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SCRAMBLES 

AMONGST    THE    ALPS    IN    THE 

YEARS  1860-69 


fCC-BOKHS-r  :  MAIIERH 


■TX    lMJtmAUXII*   TMOUOMT    THAT    IT    MAO   WM    CONNECTION   WITH    TMC    ACClOf  NT" 


SCRAMBLES 

AMONGST   THE   ALPS   IN   THE 

YEAES    1860-09 


BY 

EDWARD   WHYMPER 


WITH     MAPS    AND     ILLUSTRATIONS 


Toil  and  pleasure,  in  their  natures  opposite,  are  yet  linked  together 
in  a  kind  of  necessary  connection. — I.ivv. 


FIFTH    EDITION 

LONDON 

JOHN    MURRAY,    ALBEMARLE    STREET 

1900 


n 


PREFACE. 


In  the  year  1860,  shortly  before  leaving  England  for  a  long  conti- 
nental tour,  a  certain  eminent  London  publisher  requested  me  to 
make  for  him  some  sketches  of  the  great  Alpine  peaks.  At  that 
time  1  had  only  a  literary  acquaintance  with  mountain-climbing, 
and  had  not  even  seen — much  less  set  foot  upon — a  mountain. 
Amongst  the  peaks  which  were  upon  the  list  was  Mont  Pelvoux, 
in  Dauphine.  The  sketches  that  were  required  of  it  were  to 
celebrate  the  triumph  of  some  Englishmen  who  intended  to  make 
its  ascent.  They  came — they  saw — but  they  did  not  conquer. 
1 V v  a  mere  chance  I  fell  in  with  a  very  agreeable  Frenchman 
who  accompanied  this  party,  and  was  pressed  by  him  to  return 
to  the  assault.  In  18G1  we  did  so,  with  my  friend  Macdonald — 
and  we  conquered.  This  was  the  origin  of  my  Scrambles  amongst 
the  Alps. 

The  ascent  of  Mont  Pelvoux  (including  the  disagreeables)  was 
a  very  delightful  scramble.  The  mountain  air  did  not  act  as  an 
emetic;  the  sky  did  not  look  black,  instead  of  blue;  nor  did  I 
feel  tempted  to  throw  myself  over  precipices.  I  hastened  to 
enlarge  my  experience,  and  went  to  the  Mattel  horn.  I  was 
urged  towards  Mont  Pelvoux  by  those  mysterious  impulses 
which  cause  men  to  peer  into  the  unknown.  This  mountain  was 
reputed  to  be  the  highest  in  France,  and  on  that  account  un- 
worthy of  attention  ;  and  it  was  believed  to  be  the  culminating 
point  of  a  picturesque  district  of  great  interest,  which  was 
then  almost  entirely  unexplored  !     The  Matterhorn  attracted  me 


ii  PREFACE. 

simply  by  its  grandeur,  It  was  considered  to  be  the  most  com- 
pletely iimecvssilih'  of  all  mountains,  even  by  those  who  ought 
t<>  have  known  better.  Stimulated  to  make  fresh  exertions  by 
one  repulse  after  another,  I   returned,  year  alter  y<  I   had 

opportunity,  more  and  more  determined  to  find  a  way  up  it.  or 
to  /'/•"/•<   it  to  be  really  inaccessible. 

A  considerable  portion  of  this  volume  is  occupied  by  the 
history  of  these  attacks  on  the  Mattcrhorii.  ami  the  other 
exclusions  that  are  described  have  generally  some  connection, 
more  or  less  remote,  with  thai  mountain  or  with  Mont  Pelvoux 
All  are  new  exclusions  (that  is.  excursions  made  lor  the  first 
time),    unless    the   contrary    is    pointed    out.      Some   have    been 

paS8ed    over    Very    briefly,    and     entire    aSCentS    or    descents     have 

been  disposed  of  in  a  single  line.  If  they  had  been  worked  out 
at  lull  Length,  three  volumes,  instead  of  one.  would  have  been 
required  Generally  speaking,  the  salient  points  alone  have  been 
dwell  upon,  and  the  reel  has  heen  left  to  the  imagination.     This 

treatment    -pares   the  reader  from    much   useless   repetition. 

Ill   endeavouring   to   make   the    hook    of  some    use    to  those  who 

may  wish  to  go  mountain -scrambling,  whether  in  the  Alps  i,r 
elsewhere,  undue   prominence,  perhaps,  has   been  given   to  our 

mistakes  and   failures;  and   it   will  douhtless   he   pointed   out    that 

our  practice  must  have  1 n  had  if  the  principles  which  are  laid 

down   are   sound,   or   that   the   principle-   must   he   unsound    it'  the 

ice  was  good.     We  were  not  immaculate.     Our  blunders 

not  held  up  to  he  admired.  Or  to  he  imitated,  hut    to  he  avoided. 

These  Scrambles  amongst  the  Alps  were  holiday  exclusions, 

and  as  such  they  should  he  judged.  They  are  spoken  of  as  Bport, 
and    nothing   more.      The    pleasure    that    they   gave   me   cannot    he 

transferred  to  others.    The  ablest  pens  have  failed,  and  I  think 

must  always  fail,  to  give  a  true  idea  of  the  grandeur  of  the  Alps. 

The  most  minute  descriptions  of  the  greatest   writers  do  nothing 

mvey   impressions   that    are    entirely   erroneous  —  the 

ajures  up  visions,  it  may  !»•  magnificent  ones,  hut  they 


PREFACE.  iii 

are  infinitely  inferior  to  the  reality.  1  have  dealt  sparingly  in 
descriptions,  and  have  employed  illustrations  freely,  in  the  hope 
that  the  pencil  may  perhaps  succeed  where  the  pen  must  inevi- 
tably have  failed. 

About  fifty  of  the  subjects  were  drawn  on  the  wood  by  the 
late  Mr.  James  Mahoney,  and  I  am  much  indebted  to  that  artist 
for  the  care  and  fidelity  with  which  he  followed  my  slight 
memoranda,  and  for  the  spirit  he  put  into  his  admirable  designs. 
Most  of  his  drawings  will  be  identified,  by  his  monogram.  Twenty 
of  the  remainder  are  the  work  of  Mr.  Cyrus  Johnson. 

It  is  now  my  pleasant  duty  to  acknowledge  assistance  ren- 
dered, directly  or  indirectly,  by  friends  and  strangers,  at  home 
and  abroad.  First  of  all,  my  thanks  are  due  to  my  companions 
for  having  placed  their  journals  and  sketches  freely  at  my 
disposal.  I  am  particularly  obliged  to  Mr.  J.  Longridge,  to  Mr. 
T.  F.  Mitchell,  and  to  Mr.  W.  Cutbill,  for  the  facilities  that  they 
granted  me  when  examining  the  Fell  Railway  in  1869.  From 
Prof.  T.  G.  Bonney,  F.E.S.,  and  Mr.  Kobert  H.  Scott,  F.R.S.,  I 
have  received  many  friendly  hints  and  much  valued  criticism : 
and  aid,  in  a  variety  of  ways,  from  Mr.  Budden,  Prof.  Gastaldi. 
and  Sig.  Giordano,  in  Italy  ;  from  M.  Emile  Templier  and  the 
Marechal  Canrobert,  in  France ;  and  from  Mr.  Gosset  of  Berne. 
I  am  indebted  to  the  Messrs.  Longman  for  the  use  of  a  portion 
of  their  Map  of  the  Western  Alps.     The  other  Maps  are  original. 


London,  ./"//<.  1900. 


iv  PREFACE. 

Notks   i"  i  in.  Prepaoi  of  tin    Fifth  Edition. 

Tiik  First  Edition  of  Scrambles  amongd  the  Alps  appeared  in  tin- 
summer  of  1871,  and  the  Second  Edition  in  the  autumn  of  the 
Bams  year.  In  1879,8  Third  (condensed)  Edition  was  published, 
under  the  title  The  A*nit  of  tin  Matterhorn.  The  hook  then 
remained  <»ut  of  print  for  twelve  years.  In  the  Fourth  Edition 
(1893)  tin-  matter  which  was  omitted  in  tin-  Third  one  was 
restored ;  the  ti-xt  was  revised  generally ;  oorrections  which  had 
Ixjcoine  necessary   in  consequence  of   tin-   lapse  "!   years  were 

made;  and,  in  the  Appendix,  the  History  of  the  Matterhorn  was 
brought  down  to  date. 

Amongst  changes  and  developments  which  are  not  noted  in 
the  narrative,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  an  Inn  at  Lognan  has 
replaced  the  chalets,  and  that  there  is  another  one  at   Prerayen, 

in  addition  to  the  old  buildingE  \  OCtbatU  has  heen  opened  at 
Chanrion.  A  new  Inn  Hotel  des  Juineaux  has  heen  put  np  at 
Breuil,  and  theAlbergo  del  Monte  Cervino  at  Giomein  has  Keen 
enlarged.      The   building  <»n   the  summit  of  the  Col   Theodule, 

which   was   formerly   ten 1    'the    hut."   is    now  called    Pavilion 

dn  Col  St  Theodule 

The  Maps  have  been  re-engraved,  on  copper.  That  of  the 
Matterhorn  and  its  Glaciers  is  alter  tin-  Siegfried  Map  of  Switzer- 
land, with  such  additions  as  are  needful  to  adapt  it  to  the  text 
Tin-  Map  of  the  Chain  of  Mont  Blanc  is  based  on  the  Survey 
of  Capt.  Mieulet,  the  map  hy  Mr.  Adams- h'eilly,  and  the  Carte 
Dufour,  hut   numerous  corrections  ami   additions  have  been   made 

from  persona]  observation.  The  Ma],  of  the  Valley  of  Valpelline, 
etc.,  has  been  constructed  from  the  new  Italian  Official  Map. 
the  survey  by  Mr.  Reilly,  and  the  Carte  Dufour. 

Kaiji.v  Ascknts  of  mi:  Aii.i  ii.i.ks  o'Abve. — In  the  Anm 
of  the  Cluh  Aljiin  Francais  published  in  L899  there  is  an  article 
by    Dr.    FodeiV-    upon     the    Aiguilles    d'Atv.      Dr.    |-'..d.V-    has 


PREFACE.  v 

ascended  both  the  Southern  and  the  Central  Aiguilles,  and  says 
he  found  by  levelling  that  the  Southern  Aiguille  is  the  higher 
of  the  two.  He  also  gives  the  name  of  a  person  (Celestin 
Bellet)  who  made  an  ascent  of  the  Central  Aiguille  in  1845, 
and  the  name  of  another  person  (Elie  Savoye)  who  did  the  same 
before  1864  In  the  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  xviii,  pp.  1G5-8,  there 
is  a  reference  to  an  ascent  of  the  Central  Aiguille  which  was 
made  in  1839.  These  were  probably  the  excursions  which  were 
referred  to  by  Mons.  Ad.  Joanne,  about  which  both  I  and  my 
companions  were  perhaps  unduly  sceptical.  See  pp.  169-174. 
Dr.  Fod(Ws  article  came  under  my  notice  after  the  sheets  of 
Chap.  VIII.  were  worked  off. 

The  Death  of  Christian  Almek. — Most  of  the  characters 
mentioned  in  Scrambles  have  now  departed.  One  of  the  last  to 
go  was  my  old  Guide  and  Friend  Christian  Aimer.  This  ideal 
mountain-guide  celebrated  the  70th  anniversary  of  his  birthday 
by  making  an  ascent  of  the  "Wetterhorn  along  with  Ins  Wife,  who 
was  then  aged  72;  and  from  this  display  of  vigour  when  three- 
score and  ten  he  might  have  been  expected  to  have  lived  much 
longer.  To  my  great  regret,  he  died  on  May  17,  1898,  aged  72. 
See  p.  341,  and  the  Alpine  Journal,  vol  xviii,  pp.  185-6. 

Changes  on  the  Southern  side  of  the  Mattekhorn. — In 
August,  1895,  I  ascended  the  south-west  ridge  as  far  as  the 
base  of  the  Great  Tower,  to  photograph  places  in  which  I  was 
interested.  More  than  thirty  years  had  elapsed  since  my  last 
visit,  and  I  found  that  great  changes  had  taken  place  in  tin' 
interval.  The  summit  of  the  Col  du  Lion  was  lower  than  it 
was  formerly,  from  diminution  of  the  snow ;  and  the  passage 
across  it  was  shorter  than  it  used  to  be.  For  the  next  150  feet 
or  so  of  ascent  there  was  little  alteration,  but  thence  upwards 
the  ridge  had  tumbled  to  pieces,  and  many  familiar  plates  were 
unrecognizable.  No  spot  on  this  ridge  ifl  more  firmly  fixed  in  my 
recollection  than  'the  Chimney.'     [See  Illustration  facing  p.  LOG.] 

b 


vi  PREFACE. 

Only  ;i  remnant  of  it  was  left— more  than  half  of  the  Chimney 
had  diBappeared;   and  from  that  point   upwards  everything 
altered.     Difficult  places  had  become  easy"  and  easy  places  had 
become  difficult    The  angle  in  which  a   thick  knotted  rope  is 

now  dangling,  which  is  one  of  the  steepest  hits  of  the  ascent. 
did  not   exist   in    18G4. 

The  first  Refuge  on  the  southern  side  of  the  Matterhoin 
was  made  on  the  Ledge  called  the  '  cravate '  [p.  405].  Later  on, 
MM  was  hiiilt  close  to  the  base  of  the  Great  Tower.  Its  life 
seeming  precarious,  a  third  refuge,  another  cabanc,  was  erected 
in  189.°>  al>out  160  feet  lower  down,  and  came  into  use  in  1894. 
This  latter  hut  occupies  very  nearly  the  position  of  my  third 
tcnt-platfonn.  A  view  of  it  is  given  in  Chap.  IT.  of  my  Quid* 
to  Zermatt  and  tli>    MiUtcrhom,  after  photograp'hs  taken  in  1 895. 

Upon  ]).  103,  I  characterize  the  Great  Tower  as  'one  of  the 
most  striking  features  on  the  ridge.'  In  1864,  there  were  no 
signs  of  decay  about  the  base  of  this  huge  pinnacle.  In  1895 
it  seemed  to  me  that  it  would  not  be  long  before  it  would  collapse, 
betide  those  who  may  be  beneath  the  Great  Tower  when 
it  falls. 

Caimiki.'s  (!ai,i,khv.— By  reference  to  pp.  K>.">-4,  it  will  be 
that  Jean-Antoine  Carrel,  upon  his  de$cent  of  the  Matterhoin, 
on  July  17,  1865,  came  down  at  one  part  of  the  way  by  a  some 
what  easier  route  than  that  which  was  taken  upon  the  ascent. 
The  opinion  of  Mr.  Craufurd  Grove  about  this  'somewhat  easier 
route'  will  he  found  on  p.  407.  Mr.  Grove  was  the  first  tourist 
to  ascend  the  Matterhoin  on  the  Italian  side;  and.  BO  far  as  I 
am  aware,  no  one  again  went  that  way  until  Aug.  18!».".  when 
Mr.  W.  K.  Davidson,  with  the  guides  Daniel  Ifaquignai  and 
Christian  Stacker,  made  an  ascent  by  what  was  generally,  though 
perhaps  not  exactly,  the  route  taken  by  Mr.  Grove.  Mi. 
Davidson  strongly  endorses  Mr.  Grove's  opinion.  Traces  of 
the  two  previous  ascents  were  observed  by  Mr.  Davidson, 


PREFACE.  vii 

KXI'LORATION  OK  THE  FURGG  RlDGE.  — Ill  L899,  Si-.  Cuido 
Bey,  of  Turin,  undertook  a  very  bold  and  enterprising  explora- 
tion of  the  Furgg  Etidge — that  which  leads  from  the  Foigg  Grat 
towards  the  summit  of  the  Matterhorn.  The  information  that 
Sig.  Rey  communicated  to  me  arrived  too  late  to  be  incorporated 
in  Appendix  C. 

"I   started   from    Breuil  with  Antoine    Biaquignaz   and   a    porter  on 

Aug.  24,  1899,  at  one  o'clock  in  the  night,  and  went  to  the  Bn-uiljoch, 
and  thence  directly  up  the  Furggen  Ridge,  as  far  as  the  point  reached 
by  Mummery, — which  may  be  called  'l'Epaule  de  Furggen.'  At  this 
point  real  difficulty  begins. 

Meanwhile  Daniel  Maquignaz,  with  two  porters  and  a  large  amount 
of  rope,  had  reached  the  summit  of  the  Matterhorn  by  the  usual  way  ; 
and  descended  alxmt  85  metres"  [280  feet]  "down  the  Furggen  Ridge, 
until  he  came  to  a  place  where  the  rocks  became  overhanging.  There 
he  stopped,  and  fixed  a  rope,  and  let  the  same  down  to  the  spot  where 
we  were  standing,  which  was  al>out  10  metres  higher  than  l'Epaule  de 
Furggen.  By  means  of  this  rope,  I  and  my  men  ascended  alHitit  80 
metres,  with  great  difficulty,  the  rocks  being  smooth  and  nearly  vertical. 
After  two  hours  of  griinpade"  [scrambling]  "we  thus  arrived  at  the  lase 
of  some  overhanging  rock  upon  which  stood  Daniel  and  his  men.  We 
were  separated  12  or  15  metres  from  Daniel,  and  tried  to  pull  ourselves 
up;  but  this  was  impossible  on  account  of  the  great  oscillation  of  tin- 
rope,  and  from  there  being  no  means  of  laying  hold  of  the  rock  cither 
with  hands  or  feet.  At  5  p.m.  we  gave  up  our  attempts,  and  returned  tin- 
way  we  had  come;  and,  walking  down  the  whole  night,  arrived  at  Breuil 
on  the  morning  of  the  25th  of  August  The  point  reached  on  this  attempt 
was  distant  from  the  summit  alxmt   105   metres"  [344  feet} 

"I  again  left  Breuil  on  the  28th,  and  ascended  the  Matterhorn  by 
the  usual  Italian  route.  Daniel,  Antoine,  and  porters  were  with  me, 
carrying  a  rope  ladder  about  15  metres  long.  1  descended  from  tin-  summit 
to  the  Furggen  Ridge  as  far  as  the  point  previously  attained  by  Daniel's 
party,  and  found  meansof  getting  a  few  metres  lower.  There  1  fixed  the 
ladder,  and  let  it  down  the  overhanging  wall.  Descending  it,  1  reached 
the  point  where  we  arrived  on  the  25th  of  August  Having  completely 
explored  the  ridge,  and  touched  every  part  of  it,  1  returned  Immediately 
to  the  summit,  and  descended,  in  very  had  weather,  by  the  Hornli 
route." 


Vlll 


PREFACE. 


The   following   should    be   added    to   the    List  of  Ascents  of  the 

Matterhorn  given  in  Appendix  E. 


Date, 

Nnuiea. 

Route  taken. 

Remarks. 

1877. 

Aug.  6  .     . 

Aug.  10-11 

1879. 
Aug.  24-5  . 

w.  Martin  Oomvj   , 

Felix  0.  Schuster 
J.  K.  Bode 

Zenn.'iti. 

X.  rni.it  t . 
Zermatt 

(iui.l.s     P.  .1.  KiiiiU'l  ami   P.  .1.  TruhVr. 
l-'mni   ZiTinatt,  and   back   in  a  day; 
11  j  ba.  walking,  and  '>i  lis.  i. 
h*.  from  (breed  fraction  doe  t 
part; 

QlddM     Petal  Ratiiiianii  and  1*.  J.  Truf- 

r.T. 

tiiiiil* — J.  Petrus  and  a  Porter. 

ERRATA. 

Page    6,  in  the  6th  line  of  note,  "  belonging  to  "  should  read  "  leased  to." 
„    16,  16th  line  from  top,  "  they  ]>laced  "  should  be  "  those  placed." 
„    1*8,  in  the  note,  "  by  Mr.  Conway  "  should  be  "  by  Mr.  (now  Sir  W.  Martin)  Conway." 
.,  180,  line  -'  from  top,  "  Hincliclitl  "  should  be  "  Hinchlin."    There  is  the  same  error  in  the  Index. 
,,  40S,  last  line,  "  by  all  UmM  "  should  read  "  by  nearly  all  those." 


CONTENTS. 


I860 

CHAPTER   I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

BEACHY  HEAD — DEVIL  OF  NOTRE  DAME — MULES — SCRAMBLING  ALONE— THE  WEISS- 
HORN — ST.  BERNARD — RASCALLY  GUIDE — A  VILLAGE  CONCERT — STORM  ON  TIIK 
col  DE  lautaret  .  ......  Pages  1-13 

1861 

CHAPTER   II. 
THE  ASCENT  OF  MONT  PELVOUX. 

CBS  VALLEYS  OF  DAIPHINE —  THE  PEAKS  OK  DAIPHINE — MISTAKES  IN  THEIR 
IDENTIFICATION  —  EARLY  ATTEMPTS  TO  ASCEND  MONT  PELVOUX —  INTRODUC- 
TION TO  MONSIEUR  REYNAl  1)  —  MEETING  WITH  MACDONALD  —  CROSS  THE  COL 
DE  LAUTARET — NATIONAL  SENTIMENTS — WE  ENGAGE  A  GUIDE — START  FOR 
MONT  PELVOUX  —  PASS  THE  CAVERN  OF  THE  VAUDOIS  —  MASSACRE  OF  THE 
VAUDOIS  —  FIRST  NIGHT  OUT — WE  ARE  REPULSED — ARRIVAL  OF  MACDONALD 
— THIRD  NIGHT  OUT  —  TORRENTS  ON  FIRE  —  FALLING  ROCKS — ASCENT  OF 
MONT  PELVOUX  — THE  PYRAMID— VIEW  FROM  THE  SUMMIT  —  WE  DISCOVER 
THE  POINTE  DES  ECRINS  —  SURPRISED  BY  NIGHT — ON  FLEAS  —  EN  ROUTE 
FOR  MONTE  VISO — VALUE  OF  THE  PASSPORT  SY'STEM — DESERTERS — CAMP  ON 
AN  ANT-HILL — ST.  VERAN — PRIMITIVE  MANNERS— NATURAL  PILLARS — ARRIVE 
AT    BRIANCON         ........  14-44 

CHAPTER   III. 

THE  MONT  CENIS  PASS  AND  THE  FELL  RAILWAY— THE  GREAT 
TUNNEL  THROUGH  THE  ALPS. 

DILIGENCES— A  STEEP  RAILROAD— THE  CENTRE  RAIL— DESCRIPTION  '>K  THE  FELL 
RAILROAD —  CENTRE  RAIL  BREAK — HISTORY  OF  THE  M<>M  0011  TUNNEL — 
THE  "  1  ERFORATHICE8"  —  TEMPERATl  RE  OF  THE  TUNNEL  — THE  AI.VAS.H' 
GALLERY — SYSTEM  OF  ATTACK — THE  COST — ANNUAL  PROGRESS  COMPLETION 
AND  INAUGURATION— GERMAIN  SOMMEILLER— PRESENT  TEMPERATURE  OF  THE 
TUNNEL    ......... 


x  COKTI\ 

CHAPTER    l\ 
my  ram  boraxbleoh  the  hattsbhobv. 

amoa  oihb.  oari  i  mi  battvrb  ia  u« 

;  ill'  M  \i  I  I  (RHORB      RIDGBS  0»  mi.  MATTRRHORB      l..\i:iii-i    \  I  i  1M  lis 
TO  An'  IM'    nil    KOVXTAIS      aiitmi'T   BY    mi     KXMBB.   PARKS*-    a  item  it   81 

MESSRS.  HAWKINS  AKD  TYNDAII         \l:KI\l    Al    KITTII        I   VWII  I  »]    Mil 

(an.K.s  TO   ham.  ANvniiNi;  r with    hie  m  vmtkiD'Iin      iiii.  (  LRRX1 

LVOUR  TO  OUT  US  Om       i  M  I     -  i .  i;  I  \  I    BTAIROASX1      «i    m :   i 

H1K   i  ni.    in-    i  h.N       i;i;i  \i    i\.  hi  mini     I  imM    PALLING   BTOHRS       LIGHT   and 
BBADB      mie   •<iiimmv'      ihthiii'      \   OdOL   PRO< 

1863 

OHAPTEB   V. 

RENEWED  ATTEMPTS  TO  ASCEND  THE  MATTERHORN. 

MK.  KENNT  D\'>  W  1  N  III;  ATTEMPT — BENNEN  IM'T-TSEs  ID  START  ACAIN  III  K  III  K«  > 
DEI.E  PASS  1. 1.  MEYNET.  IIII.  II I  N<  II  l',.Y'  K  or  1:1:1  III.  OB  \I.1TNE  TENTS — 
MAODOB  \I.I>  AND  I  BTABT   1  i  >K  TH1   BATTRRHORN-     NAIlKnW   SSI    IPS  OF  KBOHIQ 

VKil.r.NT  WIND  TEENS  IS  |:  \<   K        I  ■' N  . .  A( :  I  II \  1: 1: 1  I.  A  NI  i  I'  I  >s| ,  >\    AND  >l  \  I:  I    AUAIN 

— THK  'OBRATTOWBR'      PRSSIOB  BKOOMBfl  hi.   \ndwe  ait  OBLIGBD  PO  BBTURN 
— BAD  WKATIIKK     BORAH  OS    nil    M ATTKRHORB      PIO 

iaidin    -view    PROM   tiii;  tint    -v   SOLITARY    BIVOUAC     MOH1 

HOOHLIOHTAT  NINI  TV   I'D:  II  i  Ml  its'  DISI  VN.T       OHAIDBTOI  it  mitt:-      climiunt; 
■  i  vw    -BIRD    \    nkw    PLAOl    POB  THR    iint     i    aitvin    a    OBJ  tide 

AI.mNK    MIAN   HAD    I'.EEN    I:  E  Ai   11  I  D  ITT  •.  I  l:  1  ■:.    AND    KRARLTOOMS   HmTIEE-      I    MAKE 
\  VOW— MY  rOTTKTB  AIIKMlT  TO  ASCEND  THE  MATTERHORN—  D  IGAIB 

n  WEATHER — Mil:  '    YITEI.S  00   MAKMOT-III    NUN.;,   ,\  N  D   wi;  BTABT  POB  A  FIFTH 
ATTEMPT— DEFEATED     11V     NAURU.     Dl  IT  D  I   1. 1  I  Efl   -  TVS  D  VIT.    AITIVl- 
I    VKRIES   OFF    Till,  i  IRRBLfl       A  <  ANVNADI:  "N    THK    MATTRRHORB        IVNDAIT.   I> 

i:eitt-it>     OOHTIiAORATIOB  in  DAI  itiine  .  .  ,     J 

L86S 
OHAPTEB    VI. 

THK  VAL  TOUENANCHE    THE  BEEUTLJOCB    ZBEMATT    THE  ITB8T 

THK  GRAND  T0URNAL1N. 

niEDoiANE     "BUTWHATIBTHISf"      di  it  d  t  i  i 1 1  -  v\  mi  mv  t. audit:      BZP1  IHAXTOB 
.  i  l .'-  ITITESE—  HOMAN(?)Ai>i  I  Dl.  I  in   ill  I    \  v  I  ,TOtJ  i:n  \  ffOBB       \ 
niE  OIHRB   BLAHOHM     TO    DBORXVS  A  GOA1  RHATT  (B1 

|.   <;i.v<  in:   EROBIOH — QLAOIBB   \  it:-  i  iin<. 

MOTI0B    ••■  PR]  I  I  n  i  -   i  in    ;.  i     PBOBJ 


CONTENTS.  xi 

BEING  FORCED  INTO  HOLLOWS  —  PROJECTIONS  ALONE  SUFFER — 001 
FLATTENING  OF  ROCK-SURFACES— ROCHES  NIVELEES— SITUATIONS  AM>  1 111.11: 
MEANING  —  VIOLENT  GLACIAL  ACTION  IN  ICELAND  —  KOTUNDITY  Of  101  KM 
MOUTONNEES  PROVES  A  SMALL  AMOUNT  OV  BH0UOV  -ON  1.1  KM  DEs— THE  BBOU1  1 
POWER  OF  A  GLACIER  CONSTANTLY  DIMIN  Isll  K-  CONSERVATION  OK  Ro<  Ks 
SEILER'S  DISINTERESTEDNESS  — THE  MATTERHORN  CLIFF8  —  EXTRAORDINARY 
\<  i'IDENT  TO  A  CHAMOIS — COL  DK  VAI.l'ELLINE — THE  M\-Il.l;  OF  PRERAYEN— 
ATTEMPT  TO  ASCEND  DENT  d'ERIN  (d'hERENs) — THE  VA  CORNEEE  PASS — ASCENT 
OF  THE  GRAND  Ti>!  KNAI.IN — SPLENDID  VIEW  FUOM  THE  SUMMIT — ON  PANORAMIC- 
VIEWS — GOTTFFRK  DBS  Klssi'.i;  AII.I.ES — HINTS  TO  HOSTS  .  .       Pages  118-lf>.r> 

CHAPTER   VII. 
OUR  SIXTH  ATTEMPT  TO  ASCEND  THE  MATTERHORN. 

EXTREMES  MEET — THUNDER  AND  LIGHTNING — ECHOES  OF  THUNDER — GREAT  ROCK- 
FALLS  DURING  THE  NIGHT — DEFEATED   BY  THE  WEATHER — MYSTERIOUS   MISTS 

156-165 

1864 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

FROM  ST.  MICHEL  TO  LA  BERARDE  BY  THE  COL  DES  AIGS.  D'ARVE, 
COL  DE  MARTIGNARE,  AND  THE  BRECHE  DE  LA  MEIJE. 

MICHEL  CROZ  —  COL  DE  VALLOIRES  —  THE  AIGUILLES  D'ARVE — WE  MAKE  A  PA8S 
BETWEEN  THEM — COL  DE  MARTIGNARE — ASCENT  OF  THE  AIGUILLE  DE  LA  SAUSSE 
— THE  MEIJE — BRECHE  DE  LA  MEIJE — MELCHIOR  ANDEREOG — LA  CRAVE — THE 
BRECHE    IS   WON — THE    FALLON    DES   ETANCONS  .  166-187 

CHAPTER   IX. 

THE  FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE  POINTE  DES  ECRINS. 

BIVOUAC  ON  THE  GLACIKR  DE  LA  BONNE  PIERKE — DISSOLVINU  VIEWS— DRYNESS  OF 
THE  AIR — TOPOGRAPHY  (IE  CENTKAL  DAI'PHINE  ALPS  EI  KST  ATTEMPTS  In  Am  INI' 
THE  ECRINS— A  MIGHTY  AVALANCHE — OUR  ASCENT  OF  THE  FINAL  PEAK— ON 
SPLINTERS  FROM  SUMMITS — LE  JEU  NE  VAUT  PAS  LA  CHANDELLE— sll  A  1  I  I  l:H> 
RIDGE — ALMER's   LEAP — SURPRISED    BY   NIGHT       \    WARHIKO  188-208 

CHAPTER   X. 

FROM  VAL  LOUISE  TO  LA  BKRARDE  BY  THE  COL  DE  PILATTK. 

CHALETS  OF  ENTRAIGUES — ARRIVAL  OF  KEYNAID  <>N  SMUV  COULOIRS— SUMMIT  OF 
THE  COL — EXCITING  DESCENT  KEVNAI'D  COMES  OVER  THE  M  II  1:1  N  D— THE  LAST 
OF  DAUPHINE       ........      J09-218 


xii  co.\ 

CHAPTER    XI. 

PASSAGE  OF  THE  COL  DE  TRIOLET,  AND  ASCENTS  OF  MONT  DO  I 
AIGUILLE  DE  TRELATETE,  AND  AIGUILLE  DAH'KMII  i 

MAPS  OF  MONT  BLAN)  -Mil.  ADAMS-BEII.LY— Ol'B  (  OMTAOT— TBI  I'KAKS  OK  THK  MONT 
BLANC  K.WC!        \<  BOH    mi.  OOIi   l'K  TBIOUR       kii:.-i    A80ZVT  «>k  Mom   IX 

— RE1I.I.Y  Al>\.»  ATI'S   l'AITKN.i:       HIViilAC  ON  MONT  SUC- WOSi  K  AIO. 

DKTKII    \II.IK        ITU.     MiiUIM:     01     I  II  I     MM'. I'       01     M"KAISh-     IS    I.INKHAL 

ri:i;nsi  01  s  \  ii  \\>  i;i>ii  i  i  is.,   i  in  \i      m.ikaim  mwi>      kTTKMTT  TO 

ASCEND  THE  Alorilll.   h'  \  1:1 .  KM  1 1  Kl        A   QQH<  I  A  1 . 1 : 1  >   •   \vi  KS— FIB8T   Al 

OF  thk  Aiorn.i.K  ]>' \i:<;i  sni.i:K. — mi:,    kkii.i.y's  HAP.  Pages  219-289 

CHAPTER   XII. 
FIRST  PASSAGE  OF  THK  ICOMIHG  PASS—  ZERMATT. 

SWISS  MENDICANTS — NIGHT  ON  THE  AEFITETTA  ALP  — A  PEBILOUS  PATH  — ICK- 
AVAI.AM  HE — SUMMIT  OF  THE  MOMING  PASS— OBOI  DIM  I  >>:  I  Isll  KS  HIMSELF — 
THE  CLUB-BOOM  OF  ZEBMATT— DEATH   OK  MONSIK.ri:   sk.II  I  I  .  .      210-249 

1865 

CHAPTER   XIII. 
THE  FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE  (IRANI)  CORNIHII 

ON  CHOI) 'K.  >>K  1DHTES— BEGBETS— ZINAL— AM0TOV  Till  ).  l:\SDi  oKNlEB — EFFECTS 
OF  SUN  AND   FBOST — GBEAT  BIDGE8  8UFFEB   MOST— POINTS  OF  DOT] 
TWEEN   ATMOSPHEBIC   AND   GLACIER   EROSION— ABRICOM.A  .      2.r>0-260 

CHAPTER   XIV. 
THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  DENT  BLANCHE. 

LESLIE  STEPHEN— K  I  SMI.  v'.S  ASCENT— ON  BEBOsi'HBrNDS-UN  WELCOME  ATTENTIONS 
—A   RACE  FOB  LIFE— BENIGHTED — A   NHtPBIH  '>l-267 

CHAPTER  XV. 

LOST  ON  THE  COL  D'HERENS— OUR  SEVENTH  ATTEMPT  TO  ASCEND 

THK   MATTERHOKV 

A   I.ATl  '    I  T   --V.V.W  II.DEKK.D       IIIITKN  TO  ABBH'iil  I  A       i   ROSS  COL 

D'HEKK.NSTO  ZEBMATT — ASCEND  THE  I'll  KODULHOBN—  s  I  U  I  in  A»  UMAXDUTG  I  III 
MATTEKHOBN — DECEPTIVENE8S  OF  THE  EAST  FACE — 8TBATIFICATION — DIP  ok  THE 
I'.K.DS— WE  TBY  ANOTHER  R)>I   IK      "  SAIVE  yll  I'K.I  T  "  —  BE  MEN  AGAIN      268-281 


CONTENTS.  xiii 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

ON  THE  VALLEY  OF  AOSTA  AND  THE  FIRST  ASCENT  OF 
THE  GRANDES  JORASSES. 

THE  BOUQUETIN — ON  CRETINISM  AND  GOi'l'RE — CAUSES  OF  THEIK  ORIGIN — POSSIBILITY 
OF  CHECKING  PROGRESS  OF  CRETINISM— THE  ANCIENT  GLACIER  OF  AOSTA  AND  THE 
MORAINES  OF  IVREA— RAMSAY'S  EROSION  THEORY— TYNDALL'8  THEORY — CONTRA- 
DICTIONS— CRITICISM  OF  THE  THEORIES — CONCLUSIONS — SUMMIT  OF  THEGRANDEs 
JORASSES — WE  START  AN  AVALANCHE         ....      Pages  282-332 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE  FIRST  PASSAGE  OF  THE. COL  DOLENT. 

CONFUSION  OF  IDEAS — A  MIDNIGHT  START — SUMMIT  OF  THE  PASS — EXTRAORDINARY 
ICE -WALL — MANNER  OF  ITS  DESCENT — ON  ICE-AXES  AND  THEIR  USE— ON  ICE- 
SLOPES  AND  THEIR  SAFETY — CRAMPONS — ARRIVAL  AT  CHAMOUNIX  .    333-339 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
THE  FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE  AIGUILLE  VERTE. 

CROZ  LEAVES  US — CHRISTIAN  ALMER— SUNSET  ON  THE  MER  DE  GLACE— STRUCTURE 
OF  GLACIERS — THE  "VEINED  STRUCTURE  "—ORIGIN  OF  VEINS  IN  GLACIERS — 
ASCENT  OF  THE  AIGUILLE  VERTE — ADVICE  TO  MOUNTAIN  WALKERS — VIEW  FROM 
THE  SUMMIT-, STORMS  COME  ON — A  WORTHY  PORTER — THE  NOBLE  ATTITUDE  OF 
CHAMOUNIX  ........   340-352 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  FIRST  PASSAGE  OF  THE  COL  DE  TALEFRE. 

the  col  du  geant  —  the  glacier  de  talefre  —  easy  way  from  chamounix 
to  courmayeur  — glissading  —  passes  over  the  main  chain  of  mont 
blanc        .........  353-356 

CHAPTER  XX. 
THE  FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE  RUINETTE  — THE  MATTERHORN. 

FACILITY  WITH  WHICH  THE  RUINETTE  CAN  BE  ASCENDED— NOBLE  PANORAMA — ON 
CONCEALED  CREVASSES — GUIDES*  OBJECTION  TO  1-1  G§  HIE  ROPE— ON  THE  USE 
AND  ABUSE  OF  THE  ROPE  —  ALMER  I)E<  I.INEs  THE  MATTERHORN  — ENGAGE  THE 
CARRELS— THEIR  DEFECTION — THE  ITALIANS  STEAL  A  MARCH— ARRIVAL  OF  LORD 
FRANCIS  DOUGLAS— MEETING  WITH  CROZ  AND  HUDSON  .    357-371 

C 


\n  CnM/.\ 

CHAPTEB   XXL 

THK  FlKSi    as.  knt  01  T1IK  ItATTKEHORN. 

<  II  w:i.K>  HlDSON — CAMl'   Ml    1 1 1 1    J .  \  -^  I    I  ■  \.  i.      0BO1    ttPOBXI  VAV0UBABL1 

in     i\-im;\    I  \<  i       0B08B  TO  PHI  sm:  M1KKN  USB— AKi:l\  M    u    >i  MMll 
ni>' nMH  i  mi.    OF    mi.    ETAUAMI       ASTOmSHMKNT    AT    BRKUIL       makvii.i.ui  > 
PAHOSJUU  .......      Pages  372-382 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  DESCENT  OF  THE  MATTERHOKN. 

OKDBB  OF  THE  DESCENT— A  >i:  l>  -  ill  ill.  AY.U.ANi  HK.      HAlmw  >i.n  «8-   DKATH  01 

HAi'ow,  hi  iimin,  am'  LOBD  f.  DOUGLAS—  rSRBOB  Off  mr.  rui.w  \i.i>i;i:s — thk 
BROKEN  HOPE  —  AN  APPARITION — AN  INFAMOls  PBOPOffl  I  K.N  — M  lil'KISED  BY 
Mi. ill  -i:  \  i:<  ii  Km:  ami  U0OTXK1  01  mi:  BODDV-  OfffflOLAI  i.xaminatiON 
—THK.  BSD  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .     383-398 


APPENDIX. 

A.  THE  DEATH   OK    BENM  A  ..... 

B.  STRUCK    BY    LKiHTNINC    ll'HN    THK    M  A  11  KKHoi:  N 

C.  SUBSEQUENT  HISTORY  OK  THE  MATl'EKHOUN 

D.  TABLE   OF   ATTEMPT--    I"     \-<  I.NH   THK.    MATTKlUloltN       . 

E.  TABLE  OF  ASCENTS  OF    Till.   M  a  I  ill:  IK » i:  N 

F.  GEOLOGY   OF   THE   MATTERHOKN,   1SY  BIO.    K.   QIOBOtAJTO    , 

GRATIFICATION   OF   SNOW   AND   FORMATION   OF   GLACIER 
H.    DENUDATION    IN   THK.    VAI.I.K.Y   OF   THE   DURANt  K 


iv.i 

399 
401 
402 
424 

\-:, 
434 
437 

ii:: 


INDEX 


141 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The  Drawings  were  made  on  the  \\'ch«1  bj 

H.  J.  Boot,  C.  Johnson,  W.  L\apworth,  J.  Mahoney,  J.  W.  North,  A.H.A.,  T.  I).  Scott, 

P.  Skelton,  W.  G.  Smith,  and  C.  J.  Staniland;  and  were  Engraved  by 

J.  W.  and  Edward  Whympku. 


*  From  Photographs, 


**     />(>(' </H.S. 


*  3. 

•  4. 


7. 

8. 

#*  9. 

10. 

"  11. 
••  12. 

**  13. 
**  14. 

15. 
16. 
17. 
*  18. 
19. 


FULL    PAGE    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Fog-bow,  seen  from  the  Matterhorn  ox- July  14,  1865.     Frontispiece. 

Mont  Pelvoux  and  the  Alefroide,  from  near  Mont  i 

_  }  To  face  page  34 

Dauphin J 

The  Mont  Cenis  Road  and  the  Fell  Railway,  on  the 

Italian  side ,,        "50 

The  Advanced  Gallery,  on  the  French  bedi  at  the 

Mont  Cenis  Tunnel,  with  the  "Perforatrkes"  at 

work ,,  60 

Outlines  of  the  Matterhorn  from  the  north-east  ash 

from  the  Summit  of  the  Theodule  Pass  (to  shew 

Ridges,    and    Points  attained  on   the  different 

attempts  to  ascend  the  Mountain)  ....  ,,74 

The  Matterhorn,  from  near  the  Summit  of  the  Theo- 

dule  Pass ,,  76 

'The  Chimney' ,,106 

"In  attempting  to  pass  the  corner  I  slipped  and  fell  "  ,,        108 

A  Cannonade  on  the  Matterhorn  (1862)        ...  ,,        114 

The  Crags  of  the  Matterhorn,  during  the  Storm, 

Midnight,  Aug.  10,  1863 ,,        162 

Descending  Western  Arete  of  the  1'oinie  DBA  Kc  kin.-  ,,        204 

"  We  saw  a  toe — it  seemed  to  belong  to  Moore  ;  we 

8aw  reynaud  a  flying  body  " ,,        -_'17 

The  Summit  of  the  Moming  Pass  in  1864         ...  ,,        21'i 

The  Club-Room  of  ZERMArr  in  1864  ....  ,,        -ji* 

The  Bergschrund  on  the  Dent  Blan<  he  in  1865  .        .  „        263 

The  Matterhorn  from  the  Riffeluerg  ....  ,,        -J72 

Sections  of  the  Mattkkiiokn ,, 

The  Grandes  Jorasses  from  the  Val  Kekrkt         .  ,, 

The  Summit  of  the  Col  Dolent       ....  ,,        gtt 


xvi  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

20.  Geological  Section  01    i  in  Math  kiioiln  .        .        .  To  face  page  436 

21.  Natural  1'innm  irs  (formed  out  of  an  old  Moraine) 

in  the  Valley  of  the  Durance         ....           ,,  443 

22.  VertkaiSki  iionoktheSnowontheColdeVali'i  i.i  r 

A  i« .  i  ■  i  1 866  (Folding  Plate)  .        .     At  the  ettd  of  the  Volume. 

IN    THE    TEXT. 

PAOK 

1.  Beachy  Head 1 

2.  The  Devil  of  Notre  Dame 2 

*#  8.  Mules 

•*  4.  A  Cure  in  Difficulties 7 

**  5.  "Which  is  mi:  Brute? 8 

6.  At  the  St.  Bernard \> 

7.  The  Village  of  Biona 10 

**  8.  "Garibaldi!" 12 

*  9.  Briancon 14 

10.  Mont  Pelvoux  from  above  La  Bessee 21 

11.  In  the  Val  d'Alefred 22 

12.  The  Grand  Pelvoux  de  Val  Louise 23 

13.  Buttresses  of  Mont  Pelvoux 27 

*  14.  Portrait  of  R.  J.  S.  Macdonald 30 

15.  Outline  to  shew  Route  up  Mont  Pelvoux 32 

16.  .The  Blanket  Bag 41 

17.  Natural  Pillar  near  Molines 43 

**  18.  Crossing  Mont  Cenis  (1861) 45 

*•  19.  The  Little  Postilion 46 

20.  The  Centre  Rail  on  a  Curve 48 

21.  Section  of  the  Fell  Railway 48 

*  22.  The  Covered  Ways  of  the  Fell  Railway 50 

23.  Tin  Oram  Rail  Break 51 

24.  Tubes  . ■i.nvkying  the  Compressed  Air  to  the  Mont  Cenis  Tunnel, 

and  Jam*  OF  mi.  SAME 58 

25.  Transmkm  Si. Hun  of  the  Mont  Cenis  Tunnei 59 

26.  Cross  Si  i  i  ion  ok  the  Advanced  Gali.tuy 63 

27.  LONGITT  HINAI.  SkC'THiN  Of  mi;  Knh  OF  THE  Al'V  \\.  1  D  wAI.U.KY     .  64 

*  28.  Portrait  of  Germain  Sommeiller 70 

*  29.  Portrait  of  J.  J.  Bennen 78 

*  30.  Portrait  of  Jean-Antoine  Carrel  (1869) 81 

31.  The  Col  du  Lion  :  looking  towaki's  in k  Tete  du  Lion                .  83 

32.  DlAORAM  TO  SHEW  MANNER  OF  FA8TENING  TENT-POLES     ...  92 

vr 92 

34.  Climbing  Claw 102 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  xvii 

MM 

35.  Rope  and  Ring 103 

36.  At  Breuil  (Qiomein) 109 

37.  The  Matterhobn  from  Breuil 115 

38.  "But  what  is  this  ?" 118 

39.  An  Arch  of  the  Aqueduct  in  the  Val  Tournanche        .        .  122 

40.  Water- worn  Rocks  in  the  Gorge  below  the  Gorner  Glacier  .  127 

41.  Striations  produced  by  Glacier-action 128 

42.  Sections  of  Roches  MoutonnAes  and  Roches  Nivelees     .        .  131 

43.  Diagram  of  Weathered  Rock 138 

44.  "  Carrel  lowered  me  down  " 150 

45.  Portrait  of  Monsieur  Favre 163 

46.  Crossing  the  Channel 165 

47.  Portrait  of  Michel- Auguste  Croz 167 

48.  Plan  to  shew  Route 170 

49.  The  Aiguilles  d'Arve  from  above  the  Chalets  of  Rieu  Blanc  172 

50.  Portrait  of  Melchior  Anderegg 180 

51.  Map  of  the  Breche  de  la  Meije,  etc 182 

52.  Diagram  to  shew  Angle  of  Summit  of  Meije,  as  seen  from  La  Grave  184 

53.  The  Vallon  des  ETANgoNS 186 

54.  Map  of  the  Central  Dauphine  Alps 189 

55.  The  Pointe  des  Ecrins  from  the  Col  du  Galibier   .        .        .  198 

56.  Outline  to  shew  Route  up  Pointe  des  Ecrins  ....  199 

57.  Fragment  from  the  Summit  of  the  Pointe  des  Ecrins    .        .  202 

58.  A  Night  with  Croz      .        . 207 

59.  A  Snow  Couloir 212 

60.  Portraits  of  Mr.  Reilly  on  a  wet  day 228 

61.  Our  Camp  on  Mont  Sue 229 

62.  Hotel  Couttet 239 

63.  ce-avalanche  on  the  moming  pass 245 

64.  Facsimile  of  a  Letter  from  Croz 254 

65.  Part  of  the  Southern  Ridge  of  the  Grand  Cornier      .        .  256 

66.  Part  of  the  Northern  Ridge  of  the  Grand  Cornier              .  257 

67.  Portrait  of  Leslie  Stephen 261 

68.  Portrait  of  T.  S.  Kennedy 267 

69.  Diagrams  to  shew  Dip  of  Strata  on  the  Matterhorn    .        .  274 

70.  My  Tent-bearer — The  Hunchback 279 

71.  The  Village  of  Val  Tournanche  (1892) 281 

72.  The  Bouquetin 284 

73.  A  Cretin  of  Aosta 287 

74.  Imaginary  Section  of  a  Glacier 820 

75.  Quartz-vein 828 

76.  My  Ice-axe 886 


iii  LIST  OF  H.l.rSTIiATIONS. 

::.  Known  I  ... 

mi;  r>'i:\i  <>y  [<  i  ■  wi 
79.  Crampon 

*  80.  Portrait  <u  (.'hkistian  Ai.mer    . 

*  81.  On  the  Meh  de  Glace. 

'     Vj.     1'   K    PlNNA'l  ES  ON   THE  MER  DE  ('• 

*  BS.  Wwmux  Sin k  or  the  Col  dk  Talrfre 

*  84.  GussADiNt; 

*  85.  The  Wrong  Way  to  use  a  Rope  on  Glach 

*  86.  The  Right  Way  to  use  a  Rope  on  Glacier 
B7.   Portrait  of  Lord  Francis  Douglas  . 

88.  Chapel  at  the  Lap  Noir  (Schwarzsee) 

89.  Portrait  of  Rev.  Charles  Hudson    . 

90.  "Croz!  Croz  ! !  Come  here  !  "    .... 

91.  The  Summit  of  thk  Ma  ri  iiiii'inN 

92.  The  Actual  Summit  OJ  the  Mattekhokn  in  1865 

93.  Rope  broken  on  the  Matterhorn 

94.  Diagram  of  Fog-Bow 

*  95.  Po rtra it  of  Monsieur  Seii.er    .... 

96.  Manilla  Rope  broken  on  the  Mattekhokn 

97.  Tin     Si<  und'  Rope  broken  on  the  Matterhorn 

*  98.  The  End 

99.  Portrait  of  J.  B.  Bich,  in  1892. 

100.  Portrait  of  the  late  Canon  Carrel,  of  Aosta 

101.  Portrait  of  J. -Joseph  Ma<>iii;n  a/. 

102.  The  Summit  01  the  Mattekhokn  in  1874  (Northki:- 

103.  The  Hut  on  the  1 1 . .  k  n  i  i  Rii«;e  (1892) 

104.  The  English  Chi  Kin  atZekmvh 

105.  On  the  Zekmait  Railway.  BXTW]  i.n  Si  aim  \  ani>  Km  i 

106.  The  "Sy.steme  Aht"    . 

107.  Key  to  the  Club-Room  ok  Zekma  i  i 


nam 

84] 

342 

353 

861 

362 
368 
369 
871 
378 
380 
383 
386 
388 
389 
391 
393 
396 
404 
405 
407 
408 
409 
413 
421 

iaa 

498 


MAPS. 
To  be  placed  at  the  end  of  the  Vohmt. 

1.  Gf.m.uai.  Botn  I  Mat. 

■_'.  The  Valley  or  Zermatt,  and  i  hi  < 'i  \  i  i:  \i   P]  n. 

•"..    'I'lll     \  AI  I'll. I. INI..  THE  V.M.T.iI    UNAS'   HE.   AND    III!    I'lAini     l'|S'. 

I.  The  <hain  Of  M.,n  i   BLAVi  . 

..   Tin  m  w  i  irhobs  urn  i  n  Gla<  a 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS 


BEACHY    HEAD. 


CHAPTER   I. 


Ox  the  23rd  of  July,  1860,  I  started  for  my  first  tour  in  the  Alps. 
As  we  steamed  out  into  the  Channel,  Beachy  Head  came  into 
view,  and  recalled  a  scramble  of  many  years  ago.  "With  the 
impudence  of  ignorance,  my  brother1  and  I,  schoolboys  both,  had 
tried  to  scale  that  great  chalk  cliff.  Not  the  head  itself — where 
sea-birds  circle,  and  where  the  flints  are  ranged  in  orderly  parallel 
lines — but  at  a  place  more  to  the  cast,  where  a  pinnacle  called 
the  Devil's  Chimney  had  fallen  down.  Since  then  we  have  been 
often  in  dangers  of  different  kinds,  but  never  have  we  more 
nearly  broken  our  necks  than  npon  that  occasion. 

In  Paris  I  made  two  ascents.     The  first  to  the  seventh  floor 


1  The  author  of  Tntr./s  in   Alaska. 
B 


si  it. i mi: i. /•:>■  .1  mi >x<:s r  tii /■;  .  t  /.  / •>. 


of  a  house  in  the  <t)uartk'i  Latin — to  an  artist  friend,  who  was 
engaged,  at  the  moment  of  my  entry,  in  combat  with  a  little  Jew. 
11.'  burled  him  with  great  good- will, tod  with  considerable  force, 
into  some  crockery,  ami  then  recommended  me  t<»  go  an  the 
towers  of  Notre  Dame.  Half-an-hour  later  I  Btood  on  a  parapej 
of  the  west  front,  by  the  side  of  the  leering  fiend  which  for 
centuries  has  looked  down  upon  the  great  city,  and  then  took 
rail  to  Switzerland;  saw  the  Bonlight 
lingering  on  the  giants  of  the  Ober- 
land;  heard  the  echo&s  from  the 
cow- horns  in  the  Lanterbrnnnen 
valley  and  the  avalanches  rattling 
off  the  Jungfrau ;  and  crossed  the 
Gemmi  into  the  Valais,  resting  for 
a  time  by  the  beautiful  Oeschinen 
See,  and  getting  a  forcible  illustra- 
tion of  glacier  -  motion  in  a  neigh- 
bouring valley — the  Gasteren  Thai. 
The  upper  end  of  this  valley  is 
crowned  by  the  Tschingel  Glacier,  which,  as  it  descends,  \ 
overan  abrupt  cliff  that  is  in  the  centre  of  its  course.  On  each 
side  the  continuity  of  the  glacier  is  maintained,  hut  in  the  centre 
it  is  cleft  in  twain  by  the  cliff.  Lower  down  it  is  consolidated 
again.  I  scrambled  on  to  this  lower  portion,  advanced  towards 
the  cliff,  and  then  stopped  to  admire  the  contrast  of  the  brilliant 
pinnacles  of  ice  with  the  blue  sky.  Withoul  warning,  a  huge 
slice  of  the  glacier  broke  away,  and  fell  over  the  cliff  on  to  the 
lower  portion,  with  a  thundering  crash.  Fragments  rolled  beyond 
me;  although,  fortunately,  not  in  my  direction.  I  fled,  and  did 
not  stop  until  off  the  glacier;  but  before  it  was  quitted  learned 
another  lesson  in  glacial  matters.  The  terminal  moraine,  which 
srcnied  to  1m'  a  solid  mound,  broke  away  underneath  me.  and 
shewed  that  it  was  only  a  superficial  covering  resting  upon  a  slope 
of  glassy  ice. 


THl    I'KVII.   OK    NOTKK    DAME. 


<  n.\r.   i 


uX   Ml'LKS. 


On  the  steep  path  over  the  Gemini  there  were  opportunities 

for  observing  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Swiss  nude.    Though 

it  is  not  perhaps  in  revenge  for 
generations  of  ill -treatment  that 
the  mule  grinds  one's  1<  sgs  against 
fences  and  stone -walls,  and  pre- 
tends to  stumble  in  awkward 
places  (particularly  when  coming 
round  corners  and  on  the  brinks 
of  precipices),  their  evil  habit  of 
walking  on  the  outside  edges  of 
paths  (even  in  the  most  unguarded 
positions)  is  one  that  is  distinctly 
the  result  of  association  with  man. 
The  transport  of  wood  from  the 
mountains  into  the  valleys  occu- 
pies most  of  the  mules  during  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  year. 
The  faggots  into  which  the  wood 
is  made  up  project  some  distance  on  each  side  of  the  beast,  and  it 
is  said  that  they  walk  intuitively  to  the  outside  of  paths  having 
rocks  on  the  other  side  to  avoid  the  collisions  which  would  other- 
wise occur.  When  they  carry  tourists  they  behave  in  a  similar 
manner  ;  and,  no  doubt,  when  the  good  time  for  mules  arrives,  and 
they  no  longer  carry  burdens,  they  will  still  continue  t<»  d<>  tin- 
same.  This  habit  frequently  gives  rise  to  scenes.  Two  mules 
meet;  each  wishes  to  pass  on  the  outside,  and  neither  will  give 
way.  It  requires  considerable  persuasion,  through  the  medium  of 
the  tail,  before  such  difficulties  are  arranged. 

I  visited  the  baths  of  Leuk,  and  saw  the  queer  assemblage  <>! 
men,  women,  and  children,  attired  in  bathing-gowns,  chat  tin.:. 
drinking,  and  playing  at  chess  in  the  water.  Tin-  company  did 
not  seem  to  lie  perfectly  sure  whether  it  was  decorous  for  elderly 
men  to  chase  young  females  from  one  corner  to  another,  but  it 


4  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  ohaf.  i. 

was    unanimous    in     howling    at    the    advent     of    a    stranger   who 

remained  covered,  and  literally  yelled  when  I  departed  without 
exhibiting  my  sketch. 

I  trudged  ap  the  Ethone  valley,  and  tuned  aside  al  VTisp  to  go 
up  the  Yi>i»  Thai,  where  one  would  expect  to  see  greater  traces 
of  glacial  action,  if  a  glacier  formerly  filled  it,  as  one  ia  said  to 
have  tlonc. 

I  was  bound  for  the  valley  of  Saas,  and  my  work  took  me  high 
u]>  tin-  Alps  on  cither  side:  far  beyond  the  limit  of  trees  and  the 
tracks  of  tourists.  The  view  from  the  slopes  of  the  Weiaamii 
the  eastern  Bide  of  the  valley,  5000  or  0000  feet  above  the  village 
of  Saas,  is  perhaps  the  finest  of  its  kind  in  the  Alps.  The  lull 
height  of  the  three-peaked  liischabel  (the  loftiest  mountain  in 
Switzerland)  is  seen  at  one  glance;  11,000  feet  of  dense  forests, 
green  alps,  rocky  pinnacles,  and  glittering  glaciers  The  summits 
seemed  to  me  then  to  be  hopelessly  inaccessible  from  this 
direction. 

I  descended  the  valley  to  the  village  of  Stalden,  and  then  went 
up  the  Visp  Thai  to  Zermatt,  and  stopped  there  several  days. 
Numerous  traces  of  the  formidable  earthquake-shocks  of  five  years 
before  still  remained:  particularly  at  St.  Nicholas,  where  the  in- 
habitants had  been  terrified  beyond  measure  at  the  destruction  of 
their  churches  and  houses.  At  this  place,  as  well  as  at  Visp,  8 
huge  part  of  the  population  was  obliged  to  live  under  canvas  foi 
several  months.  It  is  remarkable  that  there  was  hardly  a  life 
m  this  occasion,  although  there  were  about  fifty  shock-,  some 
of  which  were  very  severe. 

At  Zermatt  1  wandered  in  many  directions,  but  the  weather 
waa  bad,  and  my  work  was  much  retarded.  ( me  day,  after  spend- 
ing a  long  time  in  attempts  to  sketch  near  the  llornli.  and  in 
futile  endeavours  to  seize  the  forms  of  the  peaks  as  they  p 
out  for  a  few  seconds  above  the  dense  banks  of  woolly  clouds.  I 
determined  not  to  return  to  Zermatt  by  the  usual  path,  and  to 
cross  the  Gomer  Glacier  to  the   llillel   hotel.      After  a  rapid 


(nap.  i.  SCRAMBLING  ALONE.  5 

scramble  over  the  polished  rocks  and  snow-beds  which  skirt  the 
base  of  the  Theodule  Glacier,  and  wading  through  some  of  tin- 
streams  which  flow  Gram  it  (at  that  time  much  swollen  by  the 
late  rains),  the  first  difficulty  was  arrived  at,  in  the  shape  of  a 

precipice  about  three  hundred  feet  high.  It  seemed  that  it  would 
be  easy  enough  to  cross  the  glacier  if  the  cliff  could  be  descended  : 
though  higher  up,  and  lower  down,  the  ice  appeared,  to  my  inex- 
perienced eyes,  to  be  impassable  for  a  single  person.  The  general 
contour  of  the  cliff  was  nearly  perpendicular,  but  it  was  a  good 
deal  broken  up,  and  there  was  little  difficulty  in  descending  by 
zigzagging  from  one  mass  to  another.  At  length  there  was  a  long 
slab,  nearly  smooth,  fixed  at  an  angle  of  about  forty  degrees 
between  two  wall-sided  pieces  of  rock.  Nothing,  except  the 
glacier,  could  be  seen  below.  It  was  an  awkward  place,  but  being 
doubtful  if  return  were  possible,  as  I  had  been  dropping  from  one 
ledge  to  another,  I  passed  it  at  length  by  lying  across  the  slab, 
putting  the  shoulder  stiffly  against  one  side,  and  the  feet  against 
the  other,  and  gradually  wriggling  down,  by  first  moving  the  legs 
and  then  the  back.  When  the  bottom  of  the  slab  was  gained  a 
friendly  crack  was  seen,  into  which  the  point  of  the  baton  could 
be  stuck,  and  I  dropped  down  to  the  next  piece.  It  took  a  long 
time  coming  down  that  little  bit  of  cliff,  and  for  a  few  seconds  it 
was  satisfactory  to  see  the  ice  close  at  hand.  In  another  moment 
a  second  difficulty  presented  itself.  The  glacier  swept  round  an 
angle  of  the  cliff,  and  as  the  ice  was  not  of  the  nature  of  treacle  or 
thin  putty,  it  kept  away  from  the  little  bay,  on  the  edge  of  which 
I  stood.  We  were  not  widely  separated,  but  the  edge  of  the  ice 
was  higher  than  the  opposite  edge  of  rock:  and  worse,  the  rock 
was  covered  with  loose  earth  and  stones  which  had  fallen  bom 
above.  All  along  the  side  of  the  cliff,  as  far  as  could  be  seen  in 
both  directions,  the  ice  did  not  touch  it,  and  there  was  a  marginal 
crevasse,  seven  feet  wide,  and  of  unknown  depth. 

All  this  was  seen  at  a  glance,  and  almost  at  once  I  concluded 
that  I  could  not  jump  the  crevasse,  and  began  to  try  along  the 


SCRAMBLES  AM0N08T  THE  ALPS.  chap.  i. 

cliff  lower  down ;  though  without  success,  for  the  Ice  rose  higher 
and  higher,  until  si  Last  further  progress  was  stopped  by  the  cliffs 
httftnymng  perfectly  smooth.  With  ;ui  axe  it  would  have  been 
possible  to  cut  up  the  side  of  the  ice;  without  one  I  saw  there 

was  in»  alternative  but  to  return  ami   lace   the  jump. 

Nigh!  was  approaching,  ami  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  High 
Alps  was  broken  only  by  the  sound  of  rushing  water  or  of  Galling 
roeks.  If  the  jump  should  be  successful — well ;  if  not,  I  fell  into 
that  horrible  chasm,  to  be  fro/en  in,  or  drowned  in  that  gurgling, 
rushing  water.  Everything  depended  on  that  jump.  Again  I 
asked  myself,  '"('an  it  be  done?"     It  must  be.    So, finding  my 

stick  was  useless,  I  threw  it  and  the  sketch-DOOk  to  the  ice,  and 
first  retreating  as  far  as  possible,  ran  forward  with  all  my  might, 
took  the  leap,  barely  reached  the  other  side,  and  fell  awkwardly 
on  my  knees.  Almost  at  the  same  moment  a  shower  of  stones 
fell  on   the  spot   from   which    I   had    jumped. 

The  glacier  was  crossed  without  further  trouble,  but  the 
Kilfel,1  which  was  then  a  very  small  building,  was  crammed  with 
tourists,  and  could  not  take  me  in.  As  the  way  down  was  un- 
known to  me,  some  of  the  people  obligingly  suggested  getting  a 
man  at  the  chalets,  otherwise  the  path  would  be  certainly  lost  in 
the  forest.  On  arriving  at  the  chalets  no  man  could  be  found,  and 
the  lights  of  Zermatt,  shining  through  the  treea,  seemed  to  say, 
"Never  mind  a  guide,  but  come  along  down,  I'll  shew  you  the 
way;"  so  off  I  went  through  the  forest,  going  straight  towards 
them.  The  path  was  lost  in  a  moment,  and  was  never  I 
I  was  tripped  up  by  pine -roots,  tumbled  into  rhododendron 
bushes,  and  fell  over  rocks.     The  night  was  pitch  dark,  and  alter 

I  time  the  lights  Of  Zermatl  became  obscure,  QT  Went  OUt  alto- 
gether.    By  a  series  of  slides,  or  falls,  or  evolutions  more  or  leas 

disagreeable,  the  descent  through  the  forest  was  at   length  accoin- 

1  The  Kili'.l  hotel  (the  starting-point  I'm-  the  ascent  of  Monte  Rosa),  a  deservedly 
|K»|>nbr  inn,  la  placed  at  a  height  of  3100  feet  above  Zcrniatt  (8100  above  the  sea), 
and  command*  a  HUpcrh  jianoramic  view. 


chap.  i.  THE  CHURCH  IN  DIFFICULT II W  7 

plished  :  but  torrents  of  a  formidable  character  had  still  to  be 
passed  before  one  could  arrive  at  Zennatt.  I  felt  my  way  about 
for  boors,  almost  hopelessly;  by  an  exhaustive  process  at  last  dis- 
covering a  bridge,  and  about  midnight,  covered  with  dirt  and 
scratches,  re-entered  the  inn  which  I  had  quitted  in  the  morning. 
Others  besides  tourists  get  into  difficulties.  A  day  or  two 
..£,  ^  afterwards,  when  on  the  way  to  my  old 

fjW^  station,  near  the  Hornli,  I  met  a  stout 

cure  who  had  essayed  to  cross  the  Theo- 
dule  pass.  His  strength  or  his  wind  had 
foiled,  and  he  was  being  carried  down,  a 
helpless  bundle  and  a  ridiculous  spectacle, 
on  the  back  of  a  lanky  guide  ;  while  the 
peasants  stood  by,  with  folded  hands, 
their  reverence  for  the  church  almost 
overcome  by  their  sense  of  the  ludicrous. 
I  descended  the  valley,  diverging  from  the  path  at  Randa  to 
mount  the  slopes  of  the  Dom,1  in  order  to  see  the  Weisshorn  face 
to  face.  The  latter  mountain  is  the  noblest  in  Switzerland,  and 
from  this  direction  it  looks  especially  magnificent.  On  its  north 
there  is  a  large  snowy  plateau  that  feeds  the  glacier  of  which  a 
portion  is  seen  from  Bands,  and  which  on  more  than  one  occasion 
has  destroyed  that  village.  From  the  direction  of  the  Dom  (that 
is,  immediately  opposite)  this  Bies  Glacier  seems  to  descend  nearly 
vertically.  It  does  not  do  so,  although  it  is  very  steep.  Its  size 
is  much  less  than  formerly,  and  the  lower  portion,  now  divided 
into  three  tails,  clings  in  a  strange,  weird-like  manner  to  the  cliffs, 
to  which  it  seems  scarcely  possible  that  it  can  remain  attached. 

Unwillingly  I  parted  from  the  sight  of  this  glorious  mountain, 
and  went  down  to  Visp.  A  party  of  English  tourists  had  passed 
up  the  valley  a  short  time  before  with  a  nude.  The  party 
numbered  nine — eight  young  women  and  a  governess.  The  mole 
eanicd   their   luggage,   and    was   ridden    by  each   in    turn.       The 

1  The  highest  of  the  Mischabelhiirwr. 


SCRAM  HI  /'   THE  A  LI'S. 


I'M  \i\  I. 


peasants — themselves  not  unaccustomed  to  overload  their  beasts 
— were  struck  with  astonishment  al  the  unwonted  Bight;  and 
made  comments,  more  free  than  welcome  to  English  ears,  on 
tin-    nonchalance    with 

which   young  sat,  ,  ^Hb«E 

calm  and  collected,  on 
thf  miserable  beast, 
while  it  was  struggling 
under  her  weight*  com- 
bined with  that  of  the 

gage. 

Arriving  once  more 
in  the  Rhone  Valley,  I 
proceeded  to  Viesch.and 
ascended  the  Eggisch- 
horn;  on  which  nn- 
pleasanl  eminence  I  lost 
my  way  in  1 fog,  and  my 
temper  shortly  after- 
wards. Then,  after  crossing  the  Griinsel  in  a  severe  thunder- 
storm, passed  on  to  Brienz,  Interlachen,  and  Bern  ;  and  thence  to 
Fribourg  and  Morat,  Neuchatel,  Martigny,  and  the  St.  Bernard 
The  massive  walls  of  the  convent  were  a  welcome  sight  as  I 
waded  through  the  snow-beds  near  the  summit  of  the  pass,  and 
pleasant  also  was  the  courteous  salutation  of  the  brother  who 
l.ade  me  enter.  He  wondered  at  the  weight  of  my  knapsack,  and 
I  at  the  hardness  of  their  bread.  The  Baying  that  the  monks 
make  the  toast  in  the  winter  that  they  give  to  tourists  in  the 
following  season  is  not  founded  on  truth:  the  winter  is  their 
most  laisy  time  of  the  year.  But  it  is  true  they  have  exercised 
so  much  hospitality  that  at  times  they  have  not  possessed  the 
means  to  furnish  the  fuel  for  heating  their  chapel   in  the  winter.1 

1  The  tempentore  at  the  St.  Bernard  in  the  winter  is  frequently  40"  Kalir.  below 
Dg-point.     January  is  their  coldest   month.     See  Dollfus-Aiisset's  Mattriaux 
pour  Vetudf  da  Glaciers,  vols.  vi.   end  vii. 


CUM'.    !. 


AT  THE  ST    BKUXARD. 


Instead  of  descending  to  Aoeta,  I  burned  aside  into  the  Val 

Pelline,  in  order  to  obtain  views  of  the  Dent  d'Krin.  The  night 
had  come  on  before  Biona  was  gained,  and  I  had  to  knock  long 
and  loud  upon  the  door  of  the  cure's  house  before  it  was  opened 
An  old  woman,  with  querulous  voice,  and  with  a  large  goitre, 
answered  the  summons,  and  demanded  rather  sharply  what  was 
wanted  ;  but  became  pacific — almost  good-natured — when  a  five- 
tYane  piece  was  held  in  her  face,  and  she  heard  that  lodging  and 
supper  were  requested  in  exchange. 

My  directions  asserted  that  a  passage  existed  from  Prerayen, 
at  the  head  of  this  valley,  to  Breuil,  in  the  Val  Tournanche,  and 
the  old  woman,  now  convinced  of  my 
respectability,  busied  herself  to  find  a 
guide.  Presently  she  introduced  a  native, 
picturesquely  attired  in  high-peaked  hat, 
braided  jacket,  scarlet  waistcoat,  and 
indigo  pantaloons,  who  agreed  to  take 
me  to  the  village  of  Val  Tournanche. 
We  set  off  early  on  the  next  morning, 
and  got  to  the  summit  of  the  pass  with- 
out difficulty.  It  gave  me  my  first  ex- 
perience of  considerable  slopes  of  hard 
steep  snow,  and,  like  all  beginners,  I 
endeavoured  to  prop  myself  up  with 
my  stick,  and  kept  it  outside,  instead  of  holding  it  between 
myself  and  the  slope,  and  leaning  upon  it,  as  should  have  been 
done.  The  man  enlightened  me;  but  he  had,  possibly,  a  very 
small  opinion  of  his  employer,  and  it  is  probably  <»n  that  aooonnf 
that,  a  few  minutes  after  we  had  passed  the  summit,  he  said  he 
would  not  go  any  farther  and  would  return  to  Biona.  All 
argument  was  useless;  he  stood  still,  and  to  everything  that 
-aid  answered  nothing  but  that  he  would  .u'o  back.  Being 
lather  nervous  about  descending  some  long  snow-slopes,  which 
still  intervened  U;tween  us  and  the  head  of  the  valley.  I  offered 

c 


AT   THE   ST.    REKNARD. 


10 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS. 


CHAP.  I. 


more  pay,  and  he  wenl  on  a  little  way.  Presently  there  were 
some  cliffs  down  which  we  had  to  scramble.  II*-  called  to  me 
to  stop,  then  slmutcd  tint  he  would  go  luck,  and  beckoned 
to  nit-  to  come  up.     On    the  contrary,    I    waited   for  him   to 


THE  VILLAGE  OF    BIONA. 


come  down;  bat  instead  of  doing  so.  in  a  Beconcl  or  two  In- 
turned  round,  clambered  deliberately  up  the  cliff,  and  vanished 
I  supposed  it  was  only  b  rose  to  extorl  offers  of  more  money, 
and  waited  for  half-an-hour,  but  he  did  not  appear  again  This 
was  rather  embarrassing,  for  he  carried  off  my  knapsack  The 
choice  of  action  lay  between  chasing  him  and  going  on  to 
I'.reuil.  risking  the   loss  of  the   knapsack.      I    elms.-   the   latter 


chap.  i.  A    VILLAGE  CONCERT.  1 1 

course,  and  got  to  Breuil  the  same  evening.  The  landlord  <>f 
the  inn,  suspicious  of  a  person  destitute  of  luggage,  was  doubtful 
if  he  could  admit  me,  and  eventually  thrust  me  into  a  kind  of 
loft,  which  was  already  occupied  by  guides  and  by  hay.  In 
later  years  we  became  good  friends,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
give  credit  and  even  to  advance  considerable  sums. 

My  sketches  from  Breuil  were  made  under  difficulties,  for  my 
materials  had  been  carried  off.  Nothing  better  than  sugar-paper 
could  be  obtained,  and  the  pencils  seemed  to  contain  more  silica 
than  plumbago.  However,  they  were  made,  and  the  pass1  was 
again  crossed,  this  time  alone.  By  the  following  evening  the  old 
woman  of  Biona  again  produced  the  faithless  guide.  The  knapsack 
was  recovered  after  the  lapse  of  several  hours,  and  then  I  poured 
forth  all  the  terms  of  abuse  and  reproach  of  which  I  was  master. 

The  following  night  was  spent  at  Courmayeur,  and  the  day 
after  I  crossed  the  Col  Ferret  to  Orsieres,  and  on  the  next  the 
Tete  Noire  to  Chamounix.2  The  Emperor  Napoleon  arrived  on  the 
same  day,  and  access  to  the  Mer  de  Glace  was  refused  to  tourists ; 
but,  by  scrambling  along  the  Plan  des  Aiguilles,  I  managed  to 
outwit  the  guards,  and  to  arrive  at  the  Montanvert  as  the 
Imperial  party  was  leaving :  the  same  afternoon  failing  to  get  to 
the  Jardin,  and  very  nearly  succeeding  in  breaking  a  leg  by  dis- 
lodging great  rocks  on  the  moraine  of  the  glacier. 

From  Chamounix  I  went  to  Geneva,  and  thence  by  the  Mont 
Cenis  to  Turin  and  to  the  Vaudois  valleys.  A  long  and  weary 
day  had  ended  when  Paesana  was  reached.  The  inn  was  full,  and 
I  was  tired,  and  about  to  go  to  bed,  when  some  village  stragglers 
entered  and  began  to  sing.  They  sang  to  Garibaldi !  The  tenor, 
a  ragged  fellow,  whose  clothes  were  not  worth  a  shilling,  took  the 

1  This  i>ass  is  usually  called  the  Va  Cornere.  It  is  also  known  as  the  Gra 
Cornere  ;  which  is,  I  believe,  patois  for  Grand  Cornier.  It  is  mentioned  hi  Chapters 
VI.  and  XX.  of  this  volume. 

2  In  1860,  the  name  of  this  village  was  frequently,  or  usually,  written  Chamounix 
or  Chamouni.  Enquiry  has,  however,  satisfied  me  that  Chamonix  is  tin-  oAdtl 
and  correct  form.     See  my  Guide  to  Chamonix  and  Mont  Blanc,  y.  79. 


LI 


SritAMISLKS   AMoXUST   THE   ALPS. 


IIAI'.     I. 


lead  with  wonderful  expression  and  feeling.     Tl then  kepi 

their  places,  nnd  sang  in  admirable  time.  For  hours  I  sat  en- 
ohanted;  and,  long  after  I  retired,  the  sound  of  their  melody 
could  be  heard,  relieved  at  times  by  the  treble  of  the  girl  who 

belonged  to  the  inn. 


C.AKlllAI.n 


The  next  morning  I  passed  the  little  lakes,  which  arc  tin- 
sources  of  the  Po,  on  my  way  into  France.  The  weather  was 
Btormy,  and  misinterpreting  the  patois  of  some  natives — who  in 
reality  pointed  out  the  right  way — I  missed  the  track,  and  found 
myself  under  the  cliffs  of  Monte  Viso.  A  gap  that  was  occa- 
sionally seen,  in  the  ridge  connecting  it  with  the  mountains  to  the 
east,  tempted  me  up ;  and,  after  a  battle  with  a  snow -slope  of 
excessive  steepness,  I  reached  the  summit.  To  the  north  there 
was  not  a  particle  of  mist,  and  the  violent  wind  coming  from  that 
direction  blew  one  back  staggering;  while  on  the  side  of  Italy. 
the  valleys  were  completely  filled  with  dense  masses  of  cloud  to 
a  certain  level,  and  there — where  they  felt  the  influence  of  the 
wind — they  were  cut  off  as  level  as  the  top  of  a  table,  the  ridges 
appearing  above  them. 

I  raced  down  to  Abries,  and  went  on  through  the  gorge;  of  the 
Gail  to  Mont  Dauphin.  The  next  day  found  me  at  La  Bessee,  at 
the  junction  of  the  \'al  Louise  with  the  Valley  of  the  I himmr. 
in  full  view  of  liont   Pelvonx;  and   by  chance  I   walked  into  a 


OHAP.  i.  STORM  ON  THE  COL  DM  LAUTARET.  13 

cabaret  where  a  Frenchman  was  breakfasting,  who,  a  few  days 
before,  had  made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  ascend  that  mount- 
ain with  three  Englishmen  and  the  guide  Michel  Croz  <>}' 
Chamounix ; '  a  right  good  fellow,  by  name  Jean  lleynaud. 

The  same  night  I  slept  at  Briancon,  intending  to  take  the 
courier  on  the  following  day  to  Grenoble ;  but  all  places  had  been 
secured  several  days  beforehand,  so  I  set  out  at  two  p.m.  on  the 
next  day  for  a  seventy-mile  walk.  The  weather  was  again  bad ; 
and  on  the  summit  of  the  Col  de  Lautaret  I  was  forced  to  seek 
shelter  in  the  wretched  little  hospice.  It  was  filled  with  work- 
men who  were  employed  on  the  road,  and  with  noxious  vapours 
proceeding  from  them.  The  inclemency  of  the  weather  was 
preferable  to  the  inhospitality  of  the  interior.  Outside,  it  was 
disagreeable,  but  grand ;  inside,  it  was  disagreeable  and  mean.- 
The  walk  was  continued  under  a  deluge  of  rain,  and  I  felt  the 
way  down — so  intense  was  the  darkness — to  the  village  of  La 
Grave,  where  the  people  of  the  inn  detained  me  forcibly.  It  was 
perhaps  fortunate  that  they  did  so ;  for,  during  that  night,  blocks 
of  rock  fell  at  several  places  from  the  cliffs  on  to  the  road  with 
such  force  that  they  made  large  pits  in  the  macadam.  I  resumed 
the  walk  at  half-past  five  the  next  morning,  and  proceeded,  under 
steady  rain,  through  Bourg  d'Oysans  to  Grenoble,  arriving  at  the 
latter  place  soon  after  seven  p.m. 

This  was  the  end  of  the  Alpine  portion  of  my  tour  of  1860, 
on  which  I  was  introduced  to  some  of  the  great  peaks,  and 
acquired  the  passion  for  mountain -scrambling,  the  development 
of  which  is  described  in  the  following  chapters. 

1  I  had  been  sent  to  the  Val  Louise,   to  illustrate  this  ascent. 

-  Since  that  time  a  decent  house  has  been  built  on  the  summit  of  this  pass. 
The  old  vaulted  hospice  was  erected  for  the  benefit  of  the  pilgrims  who  formerly 
crossed  the  pass  en  route  for  Rome. — Joanne's  Itinera  i  r>-  <1«  l>mi{ihin£. 


KRIANfON. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE   ASCENT  OF   MONT  PELVOUX. 

''Thus  fortune  on  our  first  endeavour  smiles." 

Vikgii.. 

Thk  district  of  which  Mont  Pelvoux  and  the  neighbouring 
summits  are  the  culminating  points,1  is,  both  historically  and 
topographically,  one  of  the  most  interesting  in  the  Alps.  As  the 
nursery  and  the  home  of  the  Vaudois,  it  has  claims  to  permanent 
attention.     The  names  of  Waldo  and  of  Nell' will  he  remembered 

1  See  the  Map  in  Chap.  IX.,  and  the  General  Mi  p. 


chap.  ii.  THE  VALLEYS  OF  DAUPHIXK.  15 

when  men  more  famous  in  their  time  will  be  forgotten;  and  the 
memory  of  the  heroic  courage  and  the  simple  piety  of  their 
disciples  will  endure  as  long  as  history  lasts. 

This  district  contains  the  highest  summits  in  France,  and  some 
of  its  finest  scenery.  It  has  not  perhaps  the  beauties  of  Switzer- 
land, but  has  charms  of  its  own.  Its  cliffs,  torrents,  and  gorges 
are  unsurpassed;  its  deep  and  savage  valleys  present  pictures 
of  grandeur,  and  even  sublimity,  and  it  is  second  to  none  in  the 
boldness  of  its  mountain  forms. 

The  district  includes  a  mass  of  valleys  which  vie  with  each 
other  in  singularity  of  character  and  dissimilarity  of  climate. 
Some  the  rays  of  the  sun  can  never  reach,  they  are  so  deep  and 
narrow.1  In  others  the  very  antipodes  may  be  found ;  with 
temperature  more  like  that  of  the  plains  of  Italy  than  of  Alpine 
France.  This  great  range  of  climate  has  a  marked  effect  on  the 
flora  of  these  valleys.  Sterility  reigns  in  some ;  stones  take  the 
place  of  trees ;  debris  and  mud  replace  plants  and  flowers : 
while  in  others,  in  a  few  miles,  one  passes  vines,  apple,  pear, 
and  cherry  trees,  the  birch,  alder,  walnut,  ash,  larch,  and  pine, 
alternating  with  fields  of  rye,  barley,  oats,  beans,  and  potatoes. 

The  valleys  are  for  the  most  part  short  and  erratic.  They  are 
not,  apparently,  arranged  on  any  definite  plan.  They  are  not  dis- 
posed, as  is  frequently  the  case  elsewhere,  either  at  right  angles 
to,  or  parallel  with,  the  highest  summits ;  but  they  wander  hither 
and  thither,  take  one  direction  for  a  few  miles,  then  double  back, 
and  then  perhaps  resume  their  original  course.  Thus,  long 
perspectives  are  rarely  to  be  seen,  and  it  is  difficult  to  form  a 
general  idea  of  the  disposition  of  the  peaks. 

The  highest  summits  are  arranged  almost  in  a  horse-shoe  form. 
The  loftiest  of  all,  which  occupies  a  central  position,  is  the  Pointe 

1  The  depth  of  the  valleys  is  so  great  that  the  sun  not  only  is  not  seen  for  more 
than  a  few  hours  per  day  during  the  greater  portion  of  the  year,  hut  in  some  places 
—at  Villard  d'Arene  and  at  Andrieux  for  example— it  is  not  seen  at  all  for  one 
hundred  days. — Ladoucette's  HauUs-Alpca,  p.   599. 


16  80RAMBLB8  AMONGST  THE  ALP8.  mu:  n. 

dea  Serins ;  the  Beoond  in  height,  tin-  Meije,1  is  on  the th  ;  and 

M<»nt  Pelvuux,  wliicli  ^ives  its  name  to  the  mtire  block,  stands 
almost  ilrtai  hril  by  itself  on  the  outside. 

The  district  is  still  very  imperfectly  known;  there  are  prob- 
ably many  valleys,  and  there  are  certainly  many  summits  which 
have  never  been  trodden  by  the  feet  of  tourists  or  travellers;  but 
in  18G1  it  was  even  less  known.  Until  quite  recently  then-  was, 
practically,  no  map  of  it;  General  Bourcet's,  which  was  the  Deal 
that  was  published,  was  completely  wrong  in  its  delineation  <>! 
the  mountains,  and  was  frequently  incorrect  in  regard  to  paths 
or  roads. 

The  mountainous  regions  of  Dauphine,  moreover,  are  not  sup- 
plied, like  Switzerland,  Tyrol,  or  even  the  Italian  valleys,  with 
accommodation  for  travellers.  The  inns,  when  they  exist .  are  often 
tilthy  beyond  description,  llest  is  seldom  obtained  in  their  beds. 
or  decent  food  found  in  their  kitchens,  and  guides  there  are  none. 
The  tourist  is  thrown  very  much  on  his  own  resources,  and  it  is 
not  therefore  surprising  that  these  districts  are  less  visited  and 
less  known  than  the  rest  of  the  Alps.2 

Most  of  the  statements  current  in  1861  respecting  these 
mountains  had  been  derived  from  two  authors3 — M.  Klie  de 
Beaumont  and  the  late  Principal  J.  1).  Forbes.     Their  works, 

1  Bametbnea  called  the  Aiguille  <lu  Midi  de  In  Grays,  oi  the  AigniUe  de  la  M f.i j.-. 
the  lapse  <>f  time,  some  of  the  remarks  in  the  above  paiagraphl  have  become 
inaccurate.  Since  the  first  publication  of  Scrambles  amongst  the  Alps,  Dauphine* 
lias  Im-.h  more  frequently  visited,  and  at  several  of  the  places  that  are  mentioned  in 
this  ami  in  other  chapters  then  is  now  tolerable  accommoilation  for  travell.  • 
railway  has  l.een  opened  fn,in  Kml>ruu  to  IJiiaiuon,  with  a  station  at  La  Bessie, 
whence  a  good  carriage-road  leads  up  the  Val  Louise.  There  arc  now  two  hotels  at 
La  Ville  de  Val  Louise.  The  high  mountains  of  Dauphine  are  pretty  completely 
explored,    and   the   principal    peaks  arc   frci|Ui-ut  ly  MOOnded    DJ  tourists. 

*  "  Kaits    pov   servir   a    l'Mistoire    <lf-s    Montagues   de    l'Oi-an-."    by    Klie   de 
Beaumont  in   the   Annuls   ■  and    Norway  mul  i/.\  QJaetert,  folloioed  by 

ions  in  the  Iliyh  Alps  of  Dauphini,  by  J.  D.  Forbes, 

The  following  works  also  treat  more  or  leas  of  the  districts  referred  to  in  this 
chapter  i    OtttUm  8ketche$  in  iU-  jfiij/i  Alps  «»/'  Dampkini,  by  hot  T.  0.  Bonney  j 


CHAP. It       PREVIOUS  ATTEMPTS  <>X  MOXT  I'ELVoUX.  17 

however,  contained  numerous  errors  in  regard  to  tin*  identification 
of  the  peaks,  and,  amongst  others,  they  referred  the  supremacy  to 
thf  Mont  Pelvoux,  the  highest  point  of  which  they  termed  the 
Pitinte  des  Arcines,  or  des  Ecrins.  Principal  Forbes  erroneously 
identified  the  high  peak  seen  from  the  valley  of  St.  Christophe, 
with  that  seen  from  the  valley  of  the  Durance,  and  spoke  of  both 
as  the  Mont  Pelvoux,  and  11  de  Beaumont  committed  similar 
mistakes.  In  point  of  fact,  at  the  time  when  M.  de  Beaumont 
and  Forbes  wrote  their  respective  memoirs,  the  proper  relation  of 
the  Mont  Pelvoux  to  the  neighbouring  summits  had  been  deter- 
mined by  the  engineers  employed  on  the  survey  for  the  map  of 
France ;  but  their  observations  were  not  then  accessible  to  the 
public,  although  they  had  evidently  been  seen  by  M.  de  Beaumont. 
This  party  of  surveyors,  led  by  Captain  Durand,  made  an  ascent  of 
Mont  Pelvoux  from  the  side  of  the  Val  d'Ailefroide — that  is,  from 
the  direction  of  Val  Louise — in  1828.  According  to  the  natives 
of  the  Val  Louise,  they  got  to  the  top  of  the  second  peak  in 
height,  and  remained  upon  it,  lodged  in  a  tent  for  several  days, 
at  a  height  of  12,904  feet.  They  took  numerous  porters  to 
carry  wood  for  fires,  and  erected  a  large  cairn  on  the  summit, 
which  has  caused  the  name  of  Pic  de  la  Pyramide  to  be  given 
to  their  summit. 

In  1848,  M.  Puiseux  made  an  ascent  from  the  same  direction, 
but  his  Val  Louisan  guide  stopped  short  of  the  summit,  and 
allowed  this  courageous  astronomer  to  proceed  by  himself.1 

Histoire  des  Hautes-Alpes,  by  J.  C.  F.  Ladoucette;  Itineraire  du  Dauphint,  by 
Adolphe  Joanne  (2nd  part);  Tour  die  Monde,  1860,  edited  by  Ed.  Charton  ;  The 
Israel  of  the  Alps,  by  Alexia  Mustoii  ;  A  Memoir  of  Felix  Xrff,  by  W.  EL  Gflry. 
Engravings  of  Dauphins'  scenery  are  to  be  found  in  Voyages  Pittormfmm  dans 
'ranee,  by  Ch.  Nodier,  J.  Taylor,  and  A.  de  Cailleux,  and  in  Lord 
Monson's   Views  in,  the  Departments  of  the  1st  re  <tn<l  the  High   Alps. 

1  M.  Piiisi-nx  took  for  guide  a  man  aimed  Pierre  lUrneoud,  of  Claux  in  the  Val 
Louise,  who  had  accompanied  Captain  Duraiid  in  1828.  In  1861,  the  expedition  of 
ML  Puiseux  was  quite  forgotten  in  the  Val  Louise.  I  am  indebted  to  M.  Pnfaeni 
for  the  above  and  other  details. 

D 


18  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  ohap.  n. 

In  the  middle  of  August  18G0,  Rfessra  Bonney,  Hawkshaw, 
and  Mathews,  with  Michel  ( fcos  of  ( Ihamounix,  1 1 - i « -*  I  to  ascend  the 

lVlvmix,  likewise  from  the  same  direction.  These  gentlemen 
spent  several  days  and  nights  upon  the  mountain;  and,  encounter- 
ing bad  weather,  only  attained  a   height  of  10,4.'>0  feet. 

M.  Jean  Keynaud,  of  whom  mention  has  been  made  in  tin- 
preceding  chapter,  accompanied  the  party  of  Mr.  Mathews,  ami  1  it- 
was  of  opinion  that  the  attempt  had  l>een  made  too  late  in  the 
season.  He  said  that  the  weather  was  usually  good  enough  t«»i 
high  mountain  ascents  only  during  the  last  few  days  of  July,  and 
the  first  ones  of  August,1  and  suggested  that  we  should  attempt 
to  ascend  the  mountain  in  the  following  year  at  that  time  The 
proposition  was  a  tempting  one,  and  lieynaud's  cordial  and  modest 
manner  made  it  irresistible,  although  there  seemed  small  chance 
that  we  should  succeed  where  a  party  such  as  that  of  Mr. 
Mathews  had  been  beaten. 

At  the  beginning  of  July  1861,  I  despatched  to  Reynaud  from 
Havre,  blankets  (which  were  taxed  as  "prohibited  fabrics"),  rope, 
;ind  other  things  desirable  for  the  excursion,  and  set  out  on  the 
tour  of  France;  but,  four  weeks  later,  at  Nimes,  found  myself 
collapsed  by  the  heat,  then  94°  Faht  in  the  shade,  and  took 
train  at  once  to  Grenoble. 

I  lost  my  way  in  the  streets  of  this  picturesque  but  noisome 
town.'' ami  having  only  a  half-hour  left  in  which  to  get  a  dinner 
and  take  a  place  in  the  diligence,  was  not  well  pleased  to  hear 
that  an  Englishman  wished  to  see  me.  It  tinned  out  to  1"-  my 
friend  Kfacdonald,  who  confided  to  me  that  he  was  going  to  try 

to  jisei-nd  a   mountain  called  Mont   I'elvoux   in   the  course  of  ten 

1  This  is  a  common  saying  in   Dauphinc.     It   means  thai  than  il  usually  lees 

-now  OB  tin-  mountains  daring  these  days  than  at  any  other  ttflM  of  the  year.      The 

-   have  an   almost  childish   dread  of  Venturing  ujx.n   snow  or  glaciers,  and 

henee  the  period  of  minimum  snow  seems  to  then  to  be  the  most  reroomble  time 

for  excursion-. 

*  In  the  last  thirty  years.  QienoMe  lias  been  greatly  Improved  and  extended, 
and   it   is  now   one  of  the   lin.st    towns  in    Fran 


chap.  ii.  MONT  PEl.l'nrX   EW>U    THE   EAST.  11> 

days;  but,  on  hearing  of  my  intentions,  he  agreed  to  put  in  an  ap- 

pt -a  ranee  at  La  Bessee  on  the  3rd  of  August  In  a  few  moments 
more  I  was  perched  in  the  banquette  en  rout'  for  I'.ourg  d'Oysans, 
in  a  miserable  vehicle  which  took  nearly  eight  bonis  to  accom- 
plish less  than  thirty  miles. 

At  five  on  a  lovely  morning  I  shouldered  my  knapsack  and 
started  for  Briancon.  Gauzy  mists  clung  to  the  mountains,  but 
melted  away  when  touched  by  the  sun,  and  disappeared  by  jerks 
( in  the  manner  of  views  when  focused  in  a  magic  lantern),  reveal- 
ing tlu'  wonderfully  bent  and  folded  strata- in  the  limestone  cliffs 
behind  the  town.  Then  I  entered  the  Combe  de  Malval,  and 
heard  the  Eomanche  eating  its  way  through  that  wonderful  gorge, 
and  passed  on  to  Le  Dauphin,  where  the  first  glacier  came  into 
view,  tailing  over  the  mountain  side  on  the  right.  From  this 
place  until  the  summit  of  the  Col  de  Lautaret  was  passed,  every 
gap  in  the  mountains  shewed  a  glittering  glacier  or  a  soaring  peak. 
The  finest  view  was  at  La  Grave,  where  the  Meije  rises  by  a  series 
of  tremendous  precipices  8000  feet  above  the  road.1  The  finest 
distant  view  of  the  pass  is  seen  after  crossing  the  Col,  near 
Monetier.  A  mountain,  commonly  supposed  to  be  Monte  Viso, 
appeal's  at  the  end  of  the  vista,  shooting  into  the  sky;-  in  the 
middle  distance,  but  still  ten  miles  off,  is  Briancon,  with  its  inter- 
minable forts,  and  in  the  foreground,  leading  down  to  the  Guisane, 
and  rising  high  up  the  neighbouring  slopes,  are  fertile  fields, 
studded  with  villages  and  church  spires.  The  next  day  I  walked 
over  from  Briancon  to  La  Bessee,  to  my  worthy  friend  Jean 
Raynaud,  the  surveyor  of  roads  of  his  district. 

All  the  peaks  of  Mont  Pelvoux  are  well  seen  from  La  Best 
the  highest   point,  as  well   as  that    upon   which    the   engineers 
erected  their  cairn.     Neither  Reynaud  nor  any  one  else  knew  this. 

1  See  Chapter  VIII. 

3  Monte  Viso  is  not  seen  from  the  Lautaret  Road.  That  this  is  so  is  seen  a In n 
one  crosses  the  Col  du  Calihier,  on  the  south  side  of  which  iiaas  the  Monte  Viso  U 
visible  for  a  short  time. 


•jo  SCRAMBLES  AMONQST  THE  ALPS.  ohap.il 

The  natives  knew  only  that  t ht*  engineers  had  ascended  a  peak, 
and  had  Been  from  thai  a  still  higher  point,  which  they  called  the 
Pointe  del  Archies  or  des  Ecrins.    They  oonld  not  say  whether 

this  latter  oonld  be  seen  from  La  Bessee,  nor  could  they  tell  the 
peak  upon  which  the  cairn  had  been  erected.  They  knew  nothing 
of  the  ascent  of  Monsieur  Puiseux,  and  they  confidently  asserted 
that  the  highest  point  of  Mont  Pelvoux  had  not  been  attained  hy 
any  one.  It  was  this  point  we  wished  to  reach,  and  we  were 
under  the  impression  that  the  highesl  point  was  concealed  by  the 
peaks  we  saw,  and  would  be  gained  by  passing  over  them. 

Nothing  prevented  our  starting  at  once  but  the  absence  of 
Maodonald  and  the  want  of  a  baton.  Keynaud  suggested  a  visit  to 
the  postmaster,  who  possessed  a  weapon  of  local  celebrity.  Down 
we  went  to  the  bureau,  but  it  was  closed  :  we  halloed  through  the 
slits,  but  no  answer.  At  last  the  postmaster  was  discovered  en- 
deavouring (with  very  fair  success)  to  make  himself  intoxicated. 
He  was  just  able  to  ejaculate,  "  Prance  !  'tis  the  first  nation  in  the 
world!"  which  is  a  phrase  used  by  a  Frenchman  at  times  that 
a  Briton  begins  to  shout,  "We  won't  go  home  till  morning" — 
national  glory  l)eing  uppermost  in  the  thoughts  of  one,  and  home 
in  those  of  the  other.  The  baton  was  produced ;  it  was  a  branch 
of  a  young  oak,  about  five  feet  long,  gnarled  and  twisted  in  several 
directions.  "Sir,"  said  the  postmaster,  as  he  presented  it, 
"France!  'tis  the  first — the  first  nation  in  the  world,  by  its"  In- 
stuck.  "Batons?"  I  suggested.  "  Yes,  yes,  sir :  by  its  batons,  by 
its — its,"  and  here  he  could  not  get  on  at  all.  As  I  looked  at  this 
young  limb,  I  thought  of  my  own;  but  Keynaud.  who  knew 
everything  about  everybody  in  the  village,  said  there  was  not  a 
better  one, and  we  went  off  with  it, leaving  the  official  staggering  in 
the  road, muttering, "  Prance  1  'tis  the  first  nation  in  the  world!" 

The  3rd  of  August  came,  and  as  Maodonald  did  not  appear,  we 
started  for  the  Val  Louise  ;  our  party  consisting  of  Keynaud.  my- 
self, and  a  porter,  Jean  Casimir  Giraud,  nicknamed  "little  nails," 
the  shoemaker  of  the  place.     An  hour  and  a  half's  smart  walking 


chap.  ii.  THE  MAYOR  OF  LA  VILLI..  -1\ 

took  us  to  La  Ville  de  Val  Louise,  our  hearts  gladdened  by  the 
glorious  peaks  of  Pelvoux  shining  out  without  a  cloud  around 
them.  I  renewed  acquaintance  with  the  mayor  of  "La  Yillc." 
His  aspect  was  original,  and  his  manners  were  gracious,  but  the 


MONT    I'ELVOUX    FROM    ABOVE    LA    BESSEE. 

odour  which  proceeded  from  him  was  dreadful.     The  same  may 
be  said  of  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  these  valleys.1 

1  Their  late  prefet  shall  tell  why.  "The  men  and  women  dress  in  sheepskins, 
— which  have  been  dried  and  scoured  with  salt,  of  which  the  feet  are  used  as  clasps, 
the  fore  feet  gohig  round  the  neck,  and  the  hinder  ones  round  the  loins.  Their 
arms  are  naked,  and  the  men  are  only  distinguished  from  the  women  by  the  former 
wearing  wretched  drawers,  and  the  latter  a  sort  of  gown,  which  only  covers  them  to 
just  below  the  knees.  They  sleep  without  audi  owing  ujton  straw,  and  have  only 
sheepskins  for  coverings.  .  .  .  The  nature  of  their  food,  OOWlbfaed  with  their 
dirtiness,  makes  them  exhale  a  strong  odour  from  their  Ixidies,  whieh  is  smelt 
from  afar,  and  is  almost  insupportable  to  strangers.  .  .  .  They  live  in  a  mast 
iinlitlercut  manner,  or  rather  they  linger  in  dreadful  misery;  their  tilthy  and 
hideous  countenances  announce  their  .slovenliness  and  their  stink." — Ladoiu-ette's 
Ilisloire  des  IlauUa-Alpes,  pp.  G50-7. 


sa 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS. 


At  "La  Ville"  tlif  Val  Louise  splits  into  two  branches  the 
\'al  d'Entraigttes  on  the  Left  and  the  Vallon  d'Alefred  [or  Aile- 
froide)  on  the  right.  Our  route  was  up  the  latter, and  we  moved 
Bteadilj  forwards  to  the  village  of  Lb  Pisse,  where  a  certain  Pierre 
Semiond  lived,  who  was  reputed  to  know  more  about  Monl 
Pelvoiu  than  any  other  man.  Be  Looked  an  honesl  fellow,  bul 
unfortunately  he  was  ill  and  could  nol  come.  He 
recommended  liis  brother,  an  aged  creature,  whose 
furrowed  and  wrinkled  face  hardly  aeemed  to 
announce  the  man  we  wanted  Having  no 
choice, we  engaged  him  and  again  set  forth. 

Walnut  and  a  great  variety  of  other 
trees  gave  shadow  to  our  path  and  fresh 
vigour  to  tan-  limbs;  while  below,  in  a 
sublime  gorge,  thundered 
the      torrent, 
whose  waters 
took  their 
rise    from        .* 
the  snows 
we  hoped 

to    tread 

on      the 
morrow. 

The 
mountain 
could  nol 
be  seen  at 
Lb    Ville, 

owing  to  a  high  intervening  ridge.  We  were  now  moving  along  the 
foot  of  this  to  gel  to  the  chalets  of  Alefred  (or,  as  they  are  some- 
times called,  Ah'IVoide  ,  where  the  mountain  actually  commences. 
Prom  this  direction  the  subordinate,  but  more  proximate  peaks 
appear  considerably   higher   than    the   Loftier  ours   behind,  and 


IN    THE    VAL    D  ALEFRED. 


CHAP.  II. 


THE  GUAM*   I'KLViH'X   1>K    VAL   LOl'lSK. 


23 


sometimes  completely  conceal  them.  Hut  the  whole  height  of 
tin-  peak  which  in  these  valleys  goes  under  the  name  of  the 
"Grand  Pelvoux "  is  seen  at  one  glance  from  summit  to  base, 
six  or  seven  thousand  feet  of  nearly  perpendicular  cliffs. 


THE   GRAND    PELVOUX    DE   VAL    LOUISE. 


The  chalets  of  Alefred  are  a  cluster  of  wooden  huts  at 
the  foot  of  the  Grand  Pelvoux,  and  are  close  to  the  junction  of 
the  streams  which  descend  from  the  Glacier  de  Sapeniere  (or  du 
Sele)  on  the  left,  and  the  Glaciers  Blanc  and  Noir  on  the  right. 
"We  rested  a  minute  to  purchase  some  butter  and  milk,  and 
Seiiiionil  picked  up  a  disreputable-looking  lad  to  assist  in  trans- 
porting our  stores. 

Our  route  now  turned  sharply  to  the  left,  and  all  were  glad 
that  the  day  was  drawing  to  a  close,  so  that  we  had  shade  from 
the  mountains.  A  more  cheerless  and  desolate  valley  ;t  is 
scarcely  possible  to  imagine.  It  contains  miles  of  boulders,  debris, 
stones,  Siind,  and  nnid:  few  trees,  and  they  placed  so  high  as  to  be 
almost  out  of  sight.  Not  a  soul  inhabits  it.  The  mountains 
are  too  steep  for  the  chamois,  too  inhospitable  for  the  marmot, 
and  too  repulsive  for  the  eagle.  We  did  not  see  a  single  living 
thing  in  this  sterile  and  savage  valley  during  four  days,  except 


24  80RAMBLS8  AM0NQ8T  THE  A  LI'S.  obap.ik 

tome  few  poor  goats  which  had  been  driven  their  against  their 
will. 

It  was  a  scene  in  keeping  with  the  diabolical  deed  perpetrated 
here  about  four  hundred  years  ago — the  murder  of  the  Vaudois  of 
Val  Louise,  in  the  cavern  which  was  now  in  sight,  though  high 
above  us.  Their  story  is  very  sad.  Peaceful  and  industrious, 
for  more  than  three  centuries  they  had  inhabited  these  retired 
valleys  in  tranquil  obscurity.  The  Archbishops  of  Einbrun  en- 
deavoured, though  with  little  success,  to  get  them  within  the  pale 
of  their  church  ;  their  efforts  were  aided  by  others,  who  com- 
menced by  imprisonments  and  torture,1  and  at  last  adopted  the 
method  of  burning  them  by  hundreds  at  the  stake.2 

In  the  year  1488,  Albert  Cattanee,  Archdeacon  of  Cremona 
and  legate  of  Pope  Innocent  VIII.,  would  have  anticipated  the 
barbarities  which  at  a  later  date  roused  the  indignation  of  Milton 
ami  the  fears  of  Cromwell;3  but,  driven  everywhere  back  by  the 
Waldenses  of  Piedmont,  he  left  their  valleys  and  crossed  t la- 
Mont  Genevre  to  attack  the  weaker  and  more  thinly  populated 
valleys  of  the  Vaudois  in  Dauphine.  At  the  head  of  an  army 
which  is  said  to  have  been  composed  of  vagabonds,  robbers,  and 
assassins  (who  had  been  tempted  to  his  banner  by  promises  of 
absolution  beforehand,  of  being  set  free  from  the  obligation  of 
vows  which  they  might  have  made,  and  by  the  confirmation  of 
property  to  them  which  they  might  have  wrongfully  acquired), 
as  well  as  regular  troops,  Cattanee  poured  down  the  valley  of  the 
Durance.  The  inhabitants  of  the  Val  Louise  tied  before  a  host 
that  was  ten  times  their  number,  and  took  up  their  abode  in  this 

1  It  Imt.uiic  a  regular  business.     "  We  find  amongst  the  eiirnnt  MOOOnti  "f  the 
Bailiff  of  Kinbrun  this  singular  article — 'J/>„i.  for  ptneeutimg  Ho    Vamdois, 
sols  nml  thirty  deniers  of  gold.'" — Muston,  vol.  i.  j>. 

*  On  the  28nd  of  May  1393,  eighty  penoni  of  the  valleys  «.f  Freissinii'ies  and 
Aig'iitit're,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  persons  of  the  Val  Lotdee,  wen  burnt  at 
Kinbrun.      Muston,  vol.  i.  p,   11. 

I    Morland's    History   of   th«     Knnnj- liml    i'/i  ii rr),.  s    of    I'l.ilniuiil,    16.18  ; 
Cromwell's  AcU,  1658  ;  and   Barton*!  /""/•»/,  1828. 


OBAP.IL  MASSACllE  OF  THE    1'AriKHS.  25 

cavern,  where  they  had  collected  provisions  sufficient  for  two 
years.  But  intolerance  is  ever  painstaking;  their  retreat  was 
discovered.  Cattanee  had  a  captain  who  combined  the  resources 
of  a  Herod  with  the  cruelty  of  a  Pelissier,  and,  lowering  his  men 
by  ropes,  fired  piles  of  brushwood  at  the  entrance  to  the  cavern, 
suffocated  the  majority,  and  slew  the  remainder.  The  Vaudois 
were  relentlessly  exterminated,  without  distinction  of  age  or  sex. 
More  than  three  thousand  persons,  it  is  said,  perished  in  this 
massacre;  the  growth  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  was  de- 
stroyed at  one  blow,  and  the  valley  was  completely  depopulated. 
Louis  XII.  caused  it  to  be  re-peopled,  and  after  another  three 
centuries  and  a  half,  behold  the  result — a  race  of  monkeys.1 

We  rested  a  little  at  a  small  spring,  and  then  hastened  on- 
wards till  we  nearly  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  Sapeniere  Glacier, 
when  Semiond  said  we  must  turn  to  the  right,  up  the  slopes. 
This  we  did,  and  clambered  for  half-an-hour  through  scattered 
trees  and  fallen  boulders.  Then  evening  began  to  close  in 
rapidly,  and  it  was  time  to  look  for  a  resting-place.  There  was 
no  difficulty  in  getting  one,  for  all  around  there  was  a  chaotic 
assemblage  of  rocks.  We  selected  the  under  side  of  a  boulder 
which  was  more  than  fifty  feet  long  by  twenty  high,  cleared  out 
the  rubbish,  and  then  collected  wood  for  a  fire. 

That  camp-fire  is  a  pleasant  reminiscence.  The  wine -cask 
had  got  through  all  its  troubles ;  it  was  tapped,  and  the  French- 
men seemed  to  derive  some  consolation  from  its  execrable 
contents,      lieynaud  chanted  scraps  of  French  songs,  and   each 

1  The  commune  of  the  Val  Louise  contains  at  the  present  tinu-  butWBfl  three 
and  four  thousand  inhabitants.  Tins  cretin  imputation  was  described  by  M.  Elisee 
Keel  us  in  the  Tour  du  Monde,  1860.  He  said— "They  attain  the  highest  jiossible 
development  of  their  intelligence  in  their  infancy,  and — abundantly  provided  with 
majestic  goitres,  which  are  lengthened  and  swollen  by  age — are  in  this  resjtect 
like  ourang-outangs,  who  have  nothing  more  to  acquire  after  the  age  of  three  years. 
At  the  age  of  five  years  the  little  cretins  have  already  the  placid  vaA  mature 
expression  which  they  keep  all  their  lives.  .  .  .  They  wear  tronsers,  and 
coats  with  tails,  and  a  large  black  hat." 

E 


•j<;  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  obap.il 

contributed  his  Bhare  of  joke,  story,  or  verse.  Ihe  weather  was 
perfect,  and  our  prospects  for  the  morrow  were  good,  Mv  com- 
panions' joy  culminated  when  some  red  fire  was  thrown  into  the 
Barnes.  It  hissed  and  bubbled  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then 
broke  out  into  a  grand  Hare.  The  effect  of  the  momentary  lighl 
was  magnificent  ;  the  mountains  all  around  were  illuminated  for 
a  second,  and  then  relapsed  into  their  solemn  gloom.  <  me  by  one 
our  party  dropped  off  in  sleep, and  at  last  I  got  into  my  blanket  bag. 
It  was  hardly  necessary,  for,  although  we  were  at  a  height  of  about 
7000  feet,  the  minimum  temperature  was  above  40  Fahrenheit 
We  roused  at  three,  and  made  a  start  at  half- past  four. 
Giraud  had  been  engaged  as  far  as  this  rock  only,  hut  as  he 
wished  t<>  go  on,  we  allowed  him  to  accompany  us.  We  mounted 
tli.'  slopes  and  quickly  got  above  the  trees,  then  had  a  couple  of 
hours'  clambering  over  hits  of  precipitous  rock  and  hanks  of 
dt'hris,  and.  at  a  quarter  to  seven,  got  to  a  narrow  glacier — Clos  de 
I'Homme — which  streamed  out  of  the  plateau  on  the  summit,  and 
nearly  reached  the  Glacier  de  Sapeniere.  We  worked  as  much  as 
possible  to  the  right,  in  hopes  that  we  should  not  have  to  cross 
it.  hut  were  continually  driven  hack,  and  found  that  it  could  not 
be  avoided.  ()1«1  Semiond  had  a  strong  objection  to  travel  <>n  the 
ice,  and  made  explorations  <»n  his  own  account  to  endeavour  to 
escape   it;  but    Reynaud   and   I   preferred  to  cross,  and  Giraud 

Btuck  to  us.    This  glacier  was  narrow — in  fact. ■  could  throw 

a  stone  across  it — and  it  was  easily  mounted  on  the  side:  but  in 
the  centre  it  swelled  into  a  steep  dome,  up  which  we  were  obliged 
to  cut.  Giraud  Stepped  forward  and  said  he  should  like  to  try 
his  hand,  and  having  got  hold  of  the  axe,  would  not  give  it  up: 
and  here,  as  well  as  afterwards  when  it  was  necessary  to  i 
the  gullies  filled  with  hard  snow,  which  abound  on  the  higher 
part    of  tin-  mountain,  he  did  all   the  work,  and  did  it   efficiently. 

old  Semiond  of  course  came  after  us  when  we  got  across.  We 
then  zigzagged  up  some  snow  -  slopes,  and  shortly  afterwards 
commenced  to  ascend  the  ^terminable  array  of  buttresses  which 


CHAP.  II. 


THE  BUTTRESSES  <)E  MOST  I'El.VQUX. 


27 


arc  the  great  peculiarity  of  Mont  Pelvoux  The  rocks  were  wry 
steep  in  many  places,  yet  on  the  whole  afforded  good  hold,  and 
no  climbing  should  be  called  difficult  which  does  that.  Gullies 
abounded  among  them,  sometimes  of  great  length  and  depth. 
Thnj  were  frequently  rotten,  and  jvould  have  been  difficult  for  a 
single  man  to  pass.  The  uppermost  men  were  continually  abused 
for  dislodging  rocks  and  for  harpooning  those  below  with  their 
batons.  However,  without  these  incidents  the  climbing  would 
have  been  dull — they  helped  to  break  the  monotony. 

We  went  up  chimneys  and  gullies  by  the  hour  together,  and 
always  seemed  to  be  coming  to  something,  although  we  never  got 
to  it.  The  outline  sketch  will  help  to  explain  the 
situation.  We  stood  at  the 
tress — perhaps  about  200 
looked  up.  It  did  not  go 
in  the  diagram,  because  we 
see  the  top;  although  we 
convinced  that  behind  the 
fringe  of  pinnacles  we 
did  see  there  was  a 
top,  and  that  it  was 
the  edge  of  the  plateau  we  so  much  desired  to  attain.  Up  we 
mounted,  and  reached  the  pinnacles ;  but,  lo !  another  set  was 
seen, — and  another, — and  yet  more — till  at  last  we  reached  the 
top,  and  found  it  was  only  a  buttress,  and  that  we  had  to  descend 
40  or  50  feet  before  we  could  commence  to  mount  again.  When 
this  operation  had  been  performed  a  few  dozen  times  it  began  to 
be  wearisome,  especially  as  we  were  somewhat  in  the  dark  as  to 
our  whereabouts.  Semiond,  however  encouraged  as,  and  said  he 
knew  we  were  on  the  right  route, — so  away  we  went  once  more. 

It  was  now  nearly  mid-day,  and  we  seemed  no  nearer  the 
Summit  of  the  Pelvoux  than  when  we  started.  At  last  we  all 
joined  together  and  held  a  council.  "Semiond,  «'1<1  friend,  do  \<>ii 
know  where  we  are  now?"     "Oh  yes,  perfectly,  to  a  yard  and  a 


BUTTRESSES   OF    MONT    PEI-VOUX. 


i'm  SCRAMBLES  AM ONQBT  THE  ALPS.  ohat.u. 

halt."      ■'  Well,  thru,  Imw  linicli   arc  \vr   U-]<>\\   thifl   plateau  '"      He 

affirmed  we  were  Dot  half-an-hour  from  the  edge  of  the  mow.  Very 
good;  let  us  proceed."  Half-an-hour  passed,  and  then  another, 
but  we  were  still  in  the  same  state, — pinnacles,  buttresses,  and 
gullies  were  in  profusion,  but  thy  plateau  was  not  in  sight  Then 
we  called  him  again — for  he  had  been  staring  about  latterly,  as  if 
in  doubt — and  repeated  the  question.  "How  far  below  are  we 
now  ? "  Well,  he  thought  it  might  be  half-an-hour  more.  "  But 
you  said  that  just  now  !  Are  you  sure  we  are  going  right  ? "  Yes, 
he  believed  we  were.  Believed !  that  would  not  do.  "  Are  you  sure 
we  are  going  right  for  the  Pic  des  Arcines  ? "  "  Pic  des  Areines ! " 
he  ejaculated  in  astonishment,  as  if  he  had  heard  the  words  for 
the  first  time.  "Pic  des  Arcines;  no!  but  for  the  pyramid,  tin- 
celebrated  pyramid  he  had  helped  the  great  Capitaine  I  huand,"  etc. 

Here  was  a  fix ; — we  had  been  talking  about  it  to  him  for  a 
whole  day,  and  now  he  confessed  he  knew  nothing  about  it.  I 
turned  to  Heynaud,  who  seemed  thunderstruck.  "  What  did  la- 
suggest?"  He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Well,"  we  said,  after 
expressing  our  minds  pretty  freely  to  Semiond,  "the  sooner  we 
turn  back  the  better,  for  we  have  no  wish  to  see  your  pyramid." 

We  halted  for  an  hour,  and  then  commenced  the  descent.  1 1 
took  us  nearly  seven  hours  to  come  down  to  our  rock ;  but  1  paid 
no  heed  to  the  distance,  and  do  not  remember  anything  about 
it.  When  we  got  down  we  made  a  discovery  which  affected  us 
as  much  as  the  footprint  in  the  sand  did  Robinson  Crusoe:  a 
blue  silk  veil  lay  by  our  fireside.  There  was  but  one  explana- 
tion,— Macdonald  had  arrived  ;  but  where  was  he  ?  The  baggage 
was  soon  packed,  and  we  tramped  in  the  dusk,  through  the  stony 
desert,  to  Alefred,  where  we  arrived  about  half -pas!  nine. 
"Where  is  the  Englishman?"  was  the  first  question.  He  was 
gone  to  sleep  at  La  Ville. 

We  passed  that  night  in  a  hay-loft,  and  in  the  morning,  after 
settling  with  Semiond,  potted  down  to  catch  Macdonald.  We  had 
already  determined  on  the  plan  of  operation,  which  was  to  get 


GHAP.IL  SECOND  START  Fill!   THE  SUMMIT.  29 

him  to  join  us,  return,  and  be  independent  of  all  guides,  simply 
taking  the  best  man  we  could  get  as  a  porter.  I  set  my  heart  on 
Giraud, — a  good  fellow,  with  no  pretence,  although  well  up  to  the 
work.     We  were  disappointed ;  he  was  obliged  to  go  to  Briancon. 

The  walk  soon  became  exciting.  The  natives  inquired  the 
result  of  our  expedition,  and  common  civility  obliged  us  to  stop. 
But  I  was  afraid  of  losing  my  man,  for  it  was  said  he  would  wait 
only  till  ten  o'clock,  and  that  time  was  near  at  hand.  At  last 
I  dashed  over  the  bridge, — time  from  Alefred  an  hour  and  a 
quarter.  A  cantonnier  stopped  me,  saying  that  the  Englishman 
had  just  started  for  La  Bessee.  I  rushed  after  him,  turned  angle 
after  angle  of  the  road,  but  could  not  see  him ;  at  last,  as  I  came 
round  a  corner,  he  was  also  just  turning  another,  going  very  fast. 
I  shouted,  and  luckily  he  heard  me.  We  returned,  reprovisioned 
ourselves  at  La  Yille,  and  the  same  evening  saw  us  passing  our 
first  rock,  en  route  for  another.  1  have  said  we  determined  to 
take  no  guide ;  but,  on  passing  La  Tisse,  old  Semiond  turned  out 
and  offered  his  services.  He  went  well,  in  spite  of  his  years 
and  disregard  of  truth.  "  Why  not  take  him  ? "  said  my  friend. 
So  we  offered  him  a  fifth  of  his  previous  pay,  and  in  a  few  seconds 
he  closed  with  the  offer.  This  time  he  came  in  an  inferior 
position, — we  were  to  lead,  he  to  follow.  Our  second  porter 
was  a  youth  of  twenty-seven  years,  who  was  not  all  that  could 
be  desired.  He  drank  Keynaud's  wine,  smoked  our  cigars,  and 
quietly  secreted  the  provisions  when  we  were  nearly  starving. 
Discovery  of  his  proceedings  did  not  at  all  disconcert  him,  and 
he  finished  up  by  getting  several  items  added  to  our  bill  at  La 
Ville,  which,  not  a  little  to  his  disgust,  we  disallowed. 

This  night  we  fixed  our  camp  high  above  the  tree-line,  and 
indulged  ourselves  in  the  healthy  employment  of  carrying  our  fuel 
up  to  it.  The  present  rock  was  not  so  comfortable  as  the  first, 
and,  before  we  could  settle  down,  we  were  obliged  to  turn  out  a 
large  mass  which  was  in  the  way.  It  was  very  obstinate,  but 
moved  at  length ;  slowly  and  gently  at  first,  then  faster  and  faster, 


80 


»I:.\mi;ij-;s  AMONGST  THE  ALPS. 


(HAT.    II. 


ai  last  taking  great  jumps  in  the  air,  striking  a  stream  of  tire  at 
every  touch,  which  shone  out  brightly  as  it  entered  the  gloomy 
valley  below,  ami  bug  after  it  was  out  of  sight  we  heard  it 
bounding  downwards,  and  then  settle  with  a  subdued  crash  on 

the  glacier  beneath.  As  we  turned  back  from  this  curious  sight, 
Iieynaud  asked  if  we  had  ever  seen  a  torrent  on  fire,  and  said  that 
in  the  spring,  the  Durance,  swollen  by  the  melting  of  the  snow, 
sometimes  brings  down  so  many  rocks,  that,  where  it  passes  through 
a  narrow  gorge  at  La  I  lessee,  no  water  whatever  is  seen,  but  only 
boulder's  rolling  over  and  over,  grinding  each  other  into  powder,  and 
striking  so  many  sparks  that  the  stream  looks  as  if  it  were  on  fire. 
We  had  another  merry  evening  with  nothing  to  mar  it:  the 
weather  was  perfect,  and  we  lay  backward  in  luxurious  repose, 
looking  at  the  sky  spangled  with  its  ten  thousand  brilliant  lights. 

"The  ranges  stood 
Transfigured  in  the  silver  flood, 

Their  snows  were  Hashing  cold  and   keen, 
Dead  white,  save  where  some  sharp  ravin.- 
Took  shadow,   or  the  soinlue  green 
Of  hemlocks  turned  to  pitchy  Mack, 
Against  the  whiteness  at  their  hack."1 

Macdonald  related  his  experiences 
over  the  cafd  iwir.     He  had   travelled 

day  and  night  for  several  days  in  order 
to  join  us,  but  had  foiled  to  find  our 

first    bivouac,   and     had    eainped    a    few 

hundred  yards  from  us  under  another 
rock,  higher  up  the  mountain:  The  next 
morning  he  discerned  us  going  along  a 
ridge  at  a  great  height  above  him.  and 
as  it  was  useless  to  endeavour  to  over- 
take us,  he  lay  down  and  watched  with  a  heavy  heart  until  we 
had  turned  the  corner  of  a  buttress,  and  vanished  out  of  sight. 


1  .1.  <;.  Whitti.T,  "Snow-Boond." 


chap.  ii.  AN  ALARM.  31 

Nothing  but  the  heavy  breathing  of  our  already  sound  asleep 
comrades  broke  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  night.  It  was  a 
silence  to  be  felt.  Nothing?  Hark!  what  is  that  dull  booming 
Bound  above  us?  Is  that  nothing?  There  it  is  again,  plainer — 
on  it  comes,  nearer,  clearer;  'tis  a  crag'  escaped  from  the  heights 
above  !  What  a  fearful  crash !  We  jump  to  our  feet.  Down 
it  comes  with  awful  fury ;  what  power  can  withstand  its  violence  ? 
Dancing,  leaping,  flying ;  dashing  against  others ;  roaring  as  it 
descends.  Ah,  it  has  passed !  No ;  there  it  is  again,  and  we 
hold  our  breath,  as,  with  resistless  fore*  and  explosions  like 
artillery,  it  darts  past,  with  an  avalanche  of  shattered  fragments 
trailing  in  its  rear!  Tis  gone,  and  we  breathe  more  freely  as 
we  hear  the  finale  on  the  glacier  below.1 

We  retired  at  last,  but  I  was  too  excited  to  sleep.  At  a 
quarter-past  four  every  man  once  more  shouldered  his  pack  and 
started.  This  time  we  agreed  to  keep  more  to  the  right,  to  see 
if  it  were  not  possible  to  get  to  the  plateau  without  losing  any 
time  by  crossing  the  glacier.  To  describe  our  route  would  be  to 
repeat  what  has  been  said  before.  We  mounted  steadily  for  an 
hour  and  a  half,  sometimes  walking,  though  more  frequently 
climbing,  and  then  found,  after  all,  that  it  was  necessary  to  cross 
the  glacier.  The  part  on  which  we  struck  came  down  a  very 
steep  slope,  and  was  much  crevassed.  The  word  crevassed  hardly 
expresses  its  appearance — it  was  a  mass  of  formidable  a 
We  found,  however,  more  difficulty  in  getting  on  than  across  it ; 
and,  thanks  to  the  rope,  it  was  passed  in  safety.  Then  the  in- 
terminable buttresses  liegan  again.  Hour  after  hour  we  proceeded 
upwards,  frequently  at  fault,  and  obliged  to  descend.  The  ridge 
l>ehind  us  had  sunk  long  ago,  and  we  looked  over  it,  and  all 
others,  till  our  eyes  rested  on  the  majestic  Viso.  Hour  after  hour 
passed,  and  monotony  was  the  order  of  the  day.     When  twelve 

1  M.  Puiseux,  on  his  expedition  of  1848,  was  surprised,  when  at  break  fast 
on  thfl  ride  of  the  mountain,  bj  a  mass  of  roek  of  BMH  than  a  oobk  yard  falling 
like  a  bomb  at  his  side,  wliirh  threw  ap  splinters  in  all  direetions. 


32 


S' 7/. I. M /;/./•>'  AMONGST  THE  ALPS. 


CHAP.  II. 


o'clock  came  we  contemplated  the  scene  with  satisfaction.  All  the 
summits  in  Bight,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  Viso,  had 
in.  and  we  looked  over  an  immense  expanse  of  peaks  and  snow- 
fields.  Still  the  pinnacles  rose  above  us,  and  opinions  were  freely 
uttered  that  we  should  Bee  no  summit  of  I'elvoux  that  day.  Old 
Semiond  had  become  a  perfect  bore.  Whenever  one  rested  for  a 
moment  to  look  about,  he  would  say,  witli  a  complacent  chuckle, 
"Don't  be  afraid,  follow  ///'."     We  came  at  last  to  B   very  bad 


MONT    PELVOUX 


PIC  D£   LA  PYRAMIDC 
HIGHEST  POINT  ;  13,920 

13,973 

:    GRAND  PELVOUX 

I      DE  VAL  LOUISE 

13,343 


piece,  rotten  and  steep,  and  giving  no  hold.  Here  hVynaud  and 
Macdonald  confessed  to  being  tired,  and  talked  of  going  to  Bleep. 
A  way  was  discovered  out  of  the  difficulty;  then  some  one  called 
out,  "  Look  at  the  Viso,"  and  we  saw  that  we  almosi  looked  over 
it  We  worked  away  with  redoubled  energy,  and  at  length  caught 
sight  of  the  head  of  the  glacier  as  it  streamed  out  of  the  plateau. 
This  gave  us  fresh  hopes;  we  were  not  deceived;  and  with  a 
simultaneous  shout  we  greeted  the  appearance  of  our  long-wished- 
for  snows.  A  large  crevasse  separated  us  from  them,  but  B  bridge 
was  found,  we  tied  ourselves  in  line,  and   moved  safely  over  it. 


ohap.ii  WE  GAIN  THE  SUMMIT.  33 

Directly  we  got  across  there  rose  before  us  a  fine  snow-capped 
summit.  Old  Semiond  cried,  "The  pyramid  !  I  see  the  pyramid  '." 
•  Where,  Semiond,  where?"  "There;  on  the  top  of  that  peak." 
There,  sure  enough,  was  the  cairn  he  had  helped  to  erect  more 
than  thirty  years  before.  But  where  was  the  Pic  des  Archies 
which  we  were  to  see  ?  It  was  invisible,  and  somewhat  sadly  we 
moved  towards  the  pyramid,  sighing  that  there  was  nothing  to 
conquer.  Hardly  had  we  gone  two  hundred  paces,  before  there 
rose  a  superb  white  cone  on  the  left,  which  had  been  hidden 
before  by  a  slope  of  snow.  We  shouted — "  The  Pic  des  Archies  ! " 
and  inquired  of  Semiond  if  he  knew  whether  that  peak  had  been 
ascended.  As  for  him,  he  knew  nothing,  except  that  the  summit 
before  us  was  called  the  pyramid,  from  the  cairn  he  had,  etc.  etc., 
and  that  it  had  not  been  ascended  since.  "  All  right  then — face 
about,"  and  we  immediately  turned  at  right  angles  for  the  cone, 
the  porter  making  faint  struggles  for  his  beloved  pyramid.  Our 
progress  was  stopped,  in  the  sixth  of  a  mile,  by  the  edge  of  the 
ridge  connecting  the  two  peaks,  and  we  perceived  that  it  curled 
over  in  a  lovely  volute.  We  involuntarily  retreated.  Semiond, 
who  was  last  in  the  line,  took  the  opportunity  to  untie  himself, 
and  refused  to  come  on;  said  we  were  running  dangerous  risks, 
and  talked  vaguely  of  crevasses.  We  tied  him  up  again,  and  pro- 
ceeded. The  snow  was  very  soft ;  we  were  always  knee-deep,  and 
sometimes  floundered  in  up  to  the  waist;  but  a  simultaneous  jerk 
before  and  behind  always  released  one.  By  this  time  we  had 
arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  final  peak.  Its  left-hand  ridge  seemed 
easier  than  that  upon  which  we  stood,  so  we  curved  round  to  get 
to  it.  Some  rocks  peeped  out  150  feet  below  the  summit,  and  up 
these  we  crawled,  leaving  our  porter  behind,  as  he  said  he  was 
afraid.  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation,  as  we  went  off,  to  turn 
round  and  beckon  him  onwards,  saying,  "  Don't  be  afraid — follow 
me,"  but  he  did  not  answer  to  the  appeal,  and  never  went  to  the 
top.  The  rocks  led  to  a  short  ridge  of  ice — our  plateau  on  one 
side,  and  a  nearly  vertical  precipice  on  the  other.     Macdonald  cut 

F 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  otur.u. 

up   it.  and  at    a   quarter  t<>   two   we  Stood    shaking    hands  00    tin' 

loftiest  summit  of  the  conquered  Pelvoux. 

The  day  still  oontinued  all  that  could  l>e  desired,  and,  far 

and  near,  countless  peaks  burst  into  sight,  without  a  cloud  to 
hide  them.  The  mighty  Mont  Blanc,  lull  seventy  miles  away, 
first  caught  our  eyes,  and  then,  still  farther  oft",  the  Monte 
group;  while,  rolling  away  to  the  east,  one  unknown  range  after 
another  succeeded  in  unveiled  splendour-;  fainter  and  fainter  iii 
tone,  though  still  perfectly  defined,  till  at  last  the  eye  was  unable 
to  distinguish  sky  from  mountain,  and  they  died  away  in  the 
far-off  horizon.  Monte  Viso  rose  up  grandly,  but  it  was  less 
than  forty  miles  away,  and  we  looked  over  it  to  a  hazy  mass  we 
knew  must  be  the  plains  of  Piedmont.  Southwards  a  blue  mist 
seemed  to  indicate  the  existence  of  the  distant  Mediterranean. 
and  to  the  west  we  looked  over  to  the  mountains  of  Auvergne. 
Such  was  the  panorama;  a  view  extending  in  nearly  even 
direction  for  more  than  one  hundred  miles.  It  was  with  some 
difficulty  we  wrenched  our  eyes  from  the  more  distant  objects 
to  contemplate  the  nearer  ones.  Mont  Dauphin  was  very  con- 
spicuous, but  La  Bessee  was  not  readily  perceived.  Elsewhere 
not  a  human  habitation  could  be  seen ;  all  was  rock,  snow,  or 
ice;  and,  large  as  we  knew  were  the  snow-fields  of  Dauphin^, 
we  were  surprised  to  find  that  they  very  far  surpassed  our 
most  ardent  imagination.  Nearly  in  a  line  between  08  and 
Monte  Viso,  immediately  to  the  south  of  Chateau  Quejras,  was 
a  splendid  group  of  mountains  of  great  height  More  to  the 
south  an  unknown  peak  seemed  still  higher;  while  close  to  us 
we  were  astonished  to  discover  that  there  was  a  mountain  which 
appeared  even  loftier  than  that  on  which  we  stood.  At  least 
this  was  my  opinion.  Maedouald  thought  that  it  was  not  so 
high,  and  Rejnaud  that  it  was  much  about  the  same  elevation 
as  our  own   peak. 

This  mountain  was  distant  a  couple  of  miles  or  SO,  and   was 
separated  from  us  by  a  tremendous  abyss,  the  bottom  of  which 


chap.  ii.        DISCOVERY  OF  THE  POINTE  T)ES  ECRINS.  35 

we  could  not  see.  On  the  other  side  rose  this  mighty  wall- 
sided  peak,  too  steep  for  snow,  black  as  night,  with  sharp  ridges 
and  pointed  summit.  We  were  in  complete  ignorance  of  its 
whereabouts,  for  none  of  us  had  been  on  the  other  side.  We 
imagined  that  La  Berarde  was  in  the  abyss  at  our  feet,  while 
it  was  in  reality  beyond  the  other  mountain.1 

We  left  the  summit  at  last,  and  descended  to  the  rocks, 
where  I  boiled  some  water,  obtained  by  melting  snow.  After 
we  had  fed,  and  smoked  our  cigars  (lighted  without  difficulty 
from  a  common  match),  we  found  it  was  ten  minutes  past  three, 
and  high  time  to  be  off.  We  dashed,  waded,  and  tumbled  for 
twenty-five  minutes  through  the  snow,  and  then  began  the  long 
descent  of  the  cliffs.  It  was  then  nearly  four  o'clock,  and,  as 
it  would  be  dark  at  eight,  it  was  evident  that  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost,  and  we  pushed  on  to  the  utmost.  Nothing 
remarkable  occurred  going  down.  We  kept  rather  closer  to  the 
glacier,  and  crossed  at  the  same  point  as  in  the  morning. 
Getting  off  it  was  like  getting  on  it — rather  awkward.  Old 
S&niond  had  got  over — so  had  Reynaud ;  Macdonald  came  next, 
but,  as  he  made  a  long  stretch  to  get  on  to  a  higher  mass,  he 
slipped,  and  would  have  been  in  the  bowels  of  a  crevasse  in  a 
moment  had  he  not  been  tied. 

It  was  nearly  dark  by  the  time  we  had  crossed,  but  I  still 
hoped  that  we  should  be  able  to  pass  the  night  at  our  rock. 
Macdonald  was  not  so  sanguine,  and  he  was  right;  for  at  last 
we  found  ourselves  quite  at  fault,  and  wandered  helplessly  up 
and  down  for  an  hour,  while  Reynaud  and  the  porter  indulged 
in  a   little  mutual   abuse.     The  dreary  fact  that,  as  we  could 

1  This  mountain  is  the  culminating  j>oint  of  the  group,  and  is  named  on  the 
French  map  Pointe  des  Ecrins.  It  is  seen  from  the  Val  Christophe,  and  from  that 
direction  its  ridges  completely  conceal  Mont  Pelvoux.  But  on  the  other  side — that 
is,  from  the  direction  of  La  Bessee  or  the  Val  Louise — the  reverse  is  the  case  :  1 1 1 « - 
Pelvoux  completely  conceals  it. 

Unaware  that  this  name  was  going  to  he  applied  to  it,  we  gave  the  name  Pic  des 
Arcines,  or  del  Serins,  to  our  summit,  in  accordance  with  tin'  traditions  of  the  natives. 


36  BRAMBLE*  AMOXCST   THE  ALPS.  chaimi. 

not  get  down,  we  must  stay  where  we  were,  was  now  quite 
apparent. 

We  were  at  least  10,500  feet  high,  and  if  it  commenced  to 
rain  or  snow,  as  tin-  gathering  clouds  and  rising  wind  Beemed  t<» 
threaten,  we  might  be  In  a  sore  plight  We  were  hungry,  having 
eaten  little  since  .".  a.m.,  and  a  torrent  we  heard  close  at  hand,  hut 
could  not  discover,  aggravated  our  thirst.  Sc'miond  endeavoured 
to  get  some  water  from  it;  and,  although  he  succeeded  in  doing 
so,  he  was  wholly  unable  to  return,  and  we  had  to  solace  him  by 
shouting  at  intervals  through  the  night. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  select  a  more  detestahle  locality  for  a 
night  out  of  doors.  There  was  not  shelter  of  any  kind,  and  it  was 
too  steep  to  promenade.  Loose  ruhhly  stones  covered  the  ground, 
and  had  to  be  removed  before  we  could  sit  with  any  comfort 
This  was  an  advantage,  although  we  hardly  thought  so  at  the 
time,  as  it  gave  us  some  employment;  and,  after  an  hour's  active 
exercise  of  that  interesting  kind,  I  obtained  a  small  strip  about 
nine  feet  long,  on  which  it  was  possible  to  walk.  Reynaud  WSJ 
furious  at  first,  and  soundly  abused  the  porter,  whose  opinion 
as  to  the  route  had  been  followed  rather  than  that  of  our 
friend,  and  at  last  settled  down  to  a  dee])  dramatic  despair,  and 
wrung  his  hands  with  frantic  gesture,  as  he  exclaimed.  "Oh, 
malheur,  malheur!   Oh   miscrahles  J " 

Thunder  commenced  to  growl,  and  lightning  to  play  among 
the  peaks  above,  and  the  wind,  which  had  brought  the  tempera- 
ture down  to  nearly  freezing-point)  began  to  chill  us  to  the 
bones.  We  examined  our  resources.  They  were  six  and  a  half 
cigars,  two  boxes  of  veeuvians,  one-third  of  a  pint  of  Brandy-end- 
water,  and  half-a-pint  of  spirits  of  wine.  The  spirit-lamp  was 
lighted,  and  the  remaining  spirits  of  wine,  the  brandy  and  some 
snow  were  heated  by  it.  It  made  a  strong  liquor,  but  we  only 
wished  for  more  of  it.  When  that  was  over,  Maedonald  endea- 
voured to  dry  his  socks  by  the  lamp,  ami  then  the  three  lay  down 

under    my    plaid    to    pretend    to    sleep.       Ueynaud's    woes    were 


chap.  ii.  "AS  TO  FLEAS."  37 

aggravated  by  toothache;  Macdonald  somehow  managed  to  close 
his  eyes. 

The  longest  night  must  end,  and  ours  did  at  last.  We  got 
down  to  our  rock  in  an  hour  and  a  quarter,  and  found  the  lad  nnt 
a  little  surprised  at  our  absence.  We  feasted  at  the  cave,  and 
performed  some  very  necessary  ablutions.  The  persons  of  the 
natives  are  infested  by  certain  agile  creatures,  rapid  of  motion, 
numerous  and  voracious.  It  is  dangerous  to  approach  too  near, 
and  one  has  to  study  the  wind,  so  as  to  get  on  their  weather-side. 
In  spite  of  all  such  precautions  my  unfortunate  companion  and 
myself  were  being  rapidly  devoured  alive.  We  only  expected 
a  temporary  lull  of  our  tortures,  for  the  interiors  of  the  inns  are 
like  the  exteriors  of  the  natives,  swarming  with  this  species  of 
animated  creation. 

It  is  said  that  once,  when  these  tormentors  were  filled  with  an 
unanimous  desire,  an  unsuspecting  traveller  was  dragged  bodily 
from  his  bed!  This  needs  confirmation.  One  word  more,  and 
I  have  done  with  this  vile  subject.  We  returned  from  our 
ablutions,  and  found  the  Frenchmen  engaged  in  conversation. 
"  Ah ! "  said  old  Semiond,  "  as  to  fleas,  I  don't  pretend  to  be 
different  from  any  one  else, —  /  have  them?  This  time  he  certainly 
spoke  the  truth. 

We  got  down  to  La  Ville  in  good  time,  and  luxuriated  there 
for  several  days ;  played  many  games  of  bowls  with  the  natives, 
and  were  invariably  beaten  by  them.  At  last  it  was  necessary 
to  part,  and  I  walked  southwards  towards  Monte  Viso,  while 
Macdonald  went  to  Briancon. 

While  I  have  not  attempted  to  conceal  that  the  ascent  of 
Mont  Pelvoux  is  of  a  rather  monotonous  character,  the  view 
from  its  summit  maybe  confidently  recommended.  A  glance  at 
tin'  map  will  show  that,  with  the  single  exception  of  Monte  Viso, 
it  is  better  situated  than  any  other  mountain  of  considerable 
height  for  viewing  the  Western  Alps. 

Our  discovery  that  the  peak  which  is  now  called  the  Pointe 


38  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS  chap.  n. 

des  Ecrins  waa  a  separate  and  distincl  mountain  from  Mont   Pel 
vova    and  not   its  highest  point — gave  as  satisfaction,  although 
it   was  also  rather  of  the  nature  of  a  disappointment 

On  our  return  to  I.  we  wrongly  identified  it  with  the 

peak  which  is  Been  from  that  place  on  the  left  of  Mont  Pelvoux. 
The  two  mountains  bear  a  considerable  resemblance  to  each  other, 
s.i  the  mistake  is  not.  perhaps,  unpardonable.  The  latter  mount- 
ain is  considerably  higher  than  the  Wetterhorn  or  Monte  Viso, 
and  it  had  no  Dame.  We  called  it  the  Pic  Sans  NTom,  and  this 
name  lias  been  adopted. 

It  lias  been  observed  that  it  is  improbable  the  French 
surveyors  would  have  remained  for  several  days  upon  the  Pie  de 

la   Pyramide  without  visiting  the  loftier  and  true  summit  of  Mont 

Pelvoux.     [f  they  did,  it  is  strange  that  they  did  nol  Leave  some 

memorial  of  their  visit.  The  natives  who  accompanied  them 
asserted  thai  they  did  not  pass  from  one  to  the  other,  and  we 
therefore  claimed  to  have  made  the  .ascent  of  the  loftiest  point  for 
the  first  time.  The  claim,  however,  cannot  he  sustained,  on 
account  of  the  ascent  of  M.  Puiseux  It  is  a  matter  of  little 
moment  :  the  excursion  had  for  us  all  the  interest  of  a  first 
ascent :  and  I  look  hack  upon  this,  my  first  serious  mountain 
scramble,  with  more  satisfaction,  and  with  as  much  pleasure  as 
upon   any   that    is  recorded   in   this  volume. 

After  parting  from  my  agreeable  companions,  I  walked  by  the 
gorge  of  the  (luil  to  Ahries,  and  made  the  acquaintance  at  that 
place  of  an   exdiarhoiir-niaster  of  Marseilles, — a  genial   man.  who 

-poke  Kurdish  well.     Besides  the  ex-harbour-master  and  some  fine 

trout  in  the  neighbouring  streams,  there  was  little  to  invite  a  stay 

at  Ahries.    The  inn — l'Etoile,  chez  Richard — was  a  place  to  be 

avoided.     Richard,  it  may  1 bserved,  possessed  the  instincts  of  a 

robber.  At  a  later  date,  when  forced  to  seek  shelter  in  his  house. 
he  desired  to  see  my  passport,  and.  catching  sight  of  the  words 

John   Russell,  he  entered  that  name  instead  of  my  nun  in  a  report 

to  the  gendarmerie,  uttering  an  exclamation  of  joyful  surprise  ;)t 


OBAF.U.  I' ATo  IS.  »9 

the  same  time.  I  foolishly  allowed  the  mistake  to  pass,  and  had 
to  pay  dearly  for  it;  for  he  made  out  B  lordly  toll,  against  which 
all  protest  was  unavailing. 

His  innocent  and  not  very  extraordinary  mistake  was  eclipsed 
by  a  gendarme  of  Bourg  d'Oysans,  who  took  the  passport,  gravely 
held  it  upside  down  for  several  minutes,  pretended  to  read  it,  and 
handed  it  back,  saying  it  was  all  right. 

Kound  about  Abries  the  patois  of  the  district  is  more  or  less 
Italian  in  character,  and  the  pronunciation  of  the  natives  reminds 
one  of  a  cockney  who  attempts  to  speak  French  for  the  first  time. 
Here  bread  is  pronounced  pane,  and  cheese,  fromargee.  There  are 
a  considerable  number  of  dialects  in  use  in  this  corner  of  France ; 
and  sometimes  in  the  space  of  only  a  few  miles  one  can  find 
several,  which  are  almost  as  unintelligible  to  the  natives  of  the 
surrounding  districts  as  they  are  to  the  traveller.  In  some 
districts  the  spelling  of  the  patois  is  the  same,  but  the  pronuncia- 
tion is  different — in  this  resembling  Chinese.  It  is  not  easy  for 
the  stranger  to  understand  these  dialects,  either  written  or 
spoken ;  and  this  will  be  readily  perceived  from  the  samples 
given  below,  which  are  different  versions  of  the  parable  of  the 
prodigal  son.1 

1  "  Un  sarten  homme  aie  dous  garcous  ;  lou  pus  jouve  dissec  a  soun  pun: — 
'Moun  pure,  beila  me  la  pourtiou  d'ou  ben  que  me  reveu.'  Et  lou  paire  fee  en 
chascu  sa  part.  Et  paou  de  tens  apres,  lou  cadet,  quant  aguec  fachs  sa  pacoutilla, 
se  mettec  en  routo  et  s'en  anec  dine  un  pais  eiloigna,  ouute  maugec  tout  ce  qu'aie 
enbe  les  fumelles.  Et  quant  aguec  tout  fricassa  l'y  aguec  dine  aqueou  pais-acqui  one 
grande  famine,  et  coumensec  a  aver  fain  p." 

The  above  is  a  specimen  of  the  patois  of  the  neighbourhood  of  Gap  ;  the  follow- 
ing is  that  of  Monetier  : — 

"Un  home  avas  dou  bos.  Lou  plus  giouve  de  isou  disse  a  son  pere  : — 'Moun 
pere,  moun  pere,  douna-me  soque  me  duou  reveui  de  vatre  be.'  Et  lou  pere  lour 
faze  ou  partage  de  soun  be.  Paouc  de  giours  apres,  lou  plus  giouve  deiquelou  dou 
bos,  apres  aveira  amassa  tout  so  que  aou  lavie,  sen  ane  diens  un  jiais  etrangie  ben 
leigu,  aount  aous  dissipe  tout  soun  be  diens  la  grande  deipensa  et  en  deibaiulia. 
Apres  qu'aou  lague  tout  deipensa,  larribo  una  grand  fainina  dims  iijuaou  jiais  ilai, 
et  aou  cheiquc  diens  lou  besoign."  —  Ladoucctte's  Ilistoire  dea  Hautes-  Aljus,  pp. 
613,  618. 


40  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  Till-:  ALPS.  chap,  n. 

I  quitted  the  abominations  of  A.bries  to  seek  a  quiel  bundle  of 
it  Le  Chalp — a  village  some  miles  Dearer  to  Monte  Viso. 
(in  approaching  tin-  pl.u-i-  the  odour  »»!'  sanctity1  became  distinctly 
perceptible;  and  on  turning  a  corner  the  cause  was  manifested — 
there  was  the  priest  of  the  village,  surrounded  l>y  some  <>i'  liis 
flock.  I  advanced  humbly,  hat  in  hand,  hut  almost  before  a  word 
could  be  said,  he  broke  out  with,  "Who  are  you?"  "What  are 
you?"  "  What  do  you  want?"  I  endeavoured  to  explain.  "  You 
are  a  deserter;  I  know  you  are  a  deserter;  go  away,  you  can't 
stay  here;  go  to  Le  Monta,  down  there;  I  won't  have  you  here," 
and  he  literally  drove  me  away.  The  explanation  of  liis  strange 
behaviour  was,  that  Piedinontese  soldiers  who  were  tired  of  tin- 
service  had  not  uni'mjucntly  crossed  the  Col  de  la  Travcrsette 
into  the  valley,  and  trouble  had  arisen  from  harbouring  them: 
However,  I  did  not  know  this  at  the  time,  and  was  not  a  little 
indignant  that  I,  who  was  marching  to  the  attack,  should  be  taken 
for  a  deserter. 

So  I  walked  away,  and  shortly  afterwards,  as  it  was  getting 
dark,  encamped  in  a  lovely  hole — a  cavity  or  kind  of  basin  in  the 
earth,  with  a  stream  on. one  side,  a  rock  to  windward,  and  some 
broken  branches  close  at  hand.  Nothing  could  be  more  perfect : 
rock,  hole,  wood,  and  water.  After  making  a  roaring  fire,  I 
nestled  in  my  blanket  bag  (an  ordinary  blanket  sewn  up  double 
round  the  legs,  with  a  piece  of  elastic  riband  round  the  open  end), 
and  slept,  but  not  for  long.  I  was  troubled  with  dreams  of  the 
Iii'iuisition;  the  tortures  were  being  applied — priests  were  forcing 
fleas  down  my  nostrils  and  into  my  eyes — and  with  red-hot 
pincers  were  taking  out  hits  of  flesh,  and  then  cutting  off  my  ears 
and  tickling  the  soles  of  my  feet.  This  was  too  much  ;  I  yelled  a 
great  yell  and  awoke,  to  find  myself  covered  with  innumerable 
crawling  bodies.  They  were  ants.  I  had  camped  by  an  ant-hill, 
and,  after  mulring  its  inhabitants  mad  with  the  lire,  had  coolly 
lain  down  in  their  midst. 

1  See  p.  2\. 


DEFEATED. 


41 


The  night  was  fine,  and  as  I  settled  down  in  a  neighbouring 
hole,  a  brilliant  meteor  sailed  across  full  sixty  degrees  of  the 
cloudless   sky,  leaving  a  trail   of  light  behind  which  lasted  for 


THE    BLANKET    BAG. 


several  seconds.  It  was  the  herald  of  a  splendid  spectacle.  Stars 
fell  by  hundreds ;  and  not  dimmed  by  intervening  vapours,  they 
sparkled  with  greater  brightness  than  Sirius  in  our  damp  climate. 
The  next  morning,  after  walking  up  the  valley  to  examine 
Monte  Viso,  I  returned  to  Abries,  and  engaged  a  man  from  a 
neighbouring  hamlet,  for  whom  the  ex-harbour-master  had  sent ; 
an  inveterate  smoker,  and  thirsty  in  proportion,  whose  pipe  never 
left  his  mouth  except  to  allow  him  to  drink.  We  returned  up  the 
valley  together,  and  slept  in  a  hut  of  a  shepherd,  whose  yearly 
wage  was  almost  as  small  as  that  of  the  herdsman  spoken  of  in 
Hyperion  by  Longfellow ;  and  the  next  morning,  in  his  company, 
proceeded  to  the  summit  of  the  pass  which  I  had  crossed  in  18C0. 
We  were  baffled  in  our  attempt  to  get  closer  to  the  mountain.  A 
deep  notch l  with  precipitous  cliffs  cut  us  off  from  it.     The  snow- 

1  There  are  three  cols  or  passes  close  to  Monte  Viso  on  its  northern  side,  which 

G 


42  SCHAMllLKS   AM<>\GST  THE  ALPS.  mi.mmi. 

slope,  too,  which  existed  in  the  preceding  year  on  the  Piedmontess 

siilc  of  tin-  pass,  was  now  wanting,  ami  we  were  unable  to  descend 
the  rooks  which  lay  beneath.  A  fortnight  afterwards  the  mount- 
ain was,  however,  ascended  for  the  first  time  by  Messrs.  EafatheWS 
and  Jaoomb,  with  the  two  Croz's  of  ('hanmuiiix.  Their  attempt 
was  ninde  from  the  southern  side,  and  the  ascent,  which  was 
formerly  considered  a  tiling  totally  impossible,  has  become  one  of 
the  most  common  and  favourite  excursions  of  the  district. 

We  returned  crest-fallen  to  Abrics.  The  shepherd,  whose 
boots  were  very  much  out  of  repair,  slipped  upon  the  steep  snow- 
slopes,  and  performed  wonderful  and  alarming  gyrations,  which 
took  him  to  the  bottom  of  the  valley  more  quickly  than  he  could 
otherwise  have  descended.  He  was  not  much  hurt,  and  was  made 
happy  by  a  few  needles  and  a  little  thread  to  repair  his  abraded 
garments.  The  other  man,  however,  considered  it  wilful  waste  to 
give  him  brandy  to  rub  in  his  cuts,  when  it  could  be  disposed  of 
in  a  more  ordinary  and  pleasant  manner. 

The  night  of  the  14th  of  August  found  me  at  St.  Veran,  a 
village  made  famous  by  Neff,  but  in  no  other  respect  remarkable, 
saving  that  it  is  supposed  to  be  the  highest  in  Europe.1  The 
Protestants  now  form  only  a  miserable  minority;  in  1861  there 
were  said  to  be  120  to  780  Catholics.  The  poor  inn  was  kept  by 
one  of  the  former,  and  it  gave  the  impression  of  great  poverty. 
There  was  no  meat,  no  bread,  no  butter  or  cheese,  and  almost  t  la- 
only  things  that  could  be  obtained  were  eggs.  The  bill  Gar 
supper,  bed,  and  breakfast,  amounted  to  one  and  sevenpence. 

In    this    neighbourhood,   and    indeed    all    round    about    Monte 

lead  from  the  valley  of  the  Po  into  that  of  the  Ouil.  The  deep  notch  spoken  of 
■bont  is  the  nearest  to  the  mountain,  and  although  it  is  by  far  tin-  lower!  gap  in 
that  i>art  of  the  chain,  and  would  seem  to  be  the  true  Col  Viao,  it  doea  Dot  appear 
to  be  used  as  a  pass.  The  second,  which  I  crossed  in  1860,  has  the  name  Ool  del 
Color  del  Porco  given  to  it  upon  the  Sardinian  map!  The  third  is  the  Col  da  la 
Travcrsette  ;  and  this,  although  higher  than  at  least  one  of  thOM  mentioned  above, 
is  that  which  is  used  by  the  natives  who  pass  from  one  valley  to  the  other. 
1  Its  height  is  about  6600  feet  above  the  sea. 


CHAT.    II. 


NATURAL  PILLARS. 


13 


Viflo,  chamois  still  remain  in  considerable  numljers.  They  said  at 
St.  Yeran  that  six  had  been  seen  from  the  village  on  the  day  I 
was  there,  and  the  innkeeper  declared  that  he  had  seen  fifty 
together  in  the  previous  week!  I  myself  saw  in  this  ami  in  the 
previous  season  several  small  companies  round  alnmt  the  Yiso.  It 
is  perhaps  as  favourable  a  district  as  any  in  the  Alps  for  a  sports- 
man who  wishes  to  hunt  chamois,  as  the  ground  over  which  they 
wander  is  by  no  means  of  excessive  difficulty. 

The  next  day  I  descended  the  valley  to  Ville  Vieille,  and  passed 
near  the  village  of  Molines,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley,  a 


NATCRAl.    I'll.LAK    NKAR    MOLINES  (  WEATHER    ACTION). 

remarkable  natural  pillar,  in  form  not  unlike  a  champagne  l>ottle, 
about  seventy  feet  high,  which  had  been  produced  by  the  action  of 


44  aORAMULKS  AM"\,;ST  THE  MI'S.  OSAKA 

the  weather,  and,  in  all  probability,  chiefly  by  rain.  In  this  case 
a  "  block  of  euphotide  or  diallage  rock  protects  a  friable  lime- 
stone."1  The  contrast  of  this  dark  cap  with  the  white  base,  and 
the  singularity  of  the  form,  made  it  a  striking  object.  These 
natural  pillars  are  among  the  most  remarkable  examples  of  the 
potent  effects  which  can  be  produced  by  long-continued  action  of 
quiet-working  forces.  They  are  found  in  several  other  places  in 
the  Alps,2  as  well  as  elsewhere. 

The  village  of  Ville  Vieille  boasts  of  an  inn  with  the  sign  of 
the  Elephant ;  which,  in  the  opinion  of  local  amateurs,  is  a  proof 
that  Hannibal  passed  through  the  gorge  of  the  Guil.  I  remember 
the  place,  because  its  bread,  being  only  a  month  old,  was  un- 
usually soft;  and,  for  the  first  time  during  ten  days,  it  was 
possible  to  eat  some,  without  first  of  all  chopping  it  into  small 
pieces  and  soaking  it  in  hot  water,  which  produced  a  slimy  paste 
on  the  outside,  but  left  a  hard  untouched  kernel. 

The  same  day  I  crossed  the  Col  Isoard  to  Brianc,on.  It  was 
the  15th  of  August,  and  all  the  world  was  en  fete;  sounds  of 
revelry  proceeded  from  the  houses  of  Servieres  as  I  passed  over 
the  bridge  upon  which  the  pyrrhic  dance  is  annually  performed/ 
and  natives  in  all  degrees  of  inebriation  staggered  about  the  paths. 
It  was  late  before  the  lights  of  the  great  fortress  came  into  sight  : 
but  unchallenged  I  passed  through  its  gates,  and  once  more  sought 
shelter  under  the  roof  of  the  Hotel  de  l'Ours.4 

1  J.  D.  Forbes. 

1  In  the  gorge  of  the  Dard,  near  Aosta  ;  near  Euseigne,  in  the  Val  d'Ht-rens  ; 
near  Stalden,  in  the  Visp  Thai  ;  near  Ferden,  in  the  Lotschcn  Thai  ;  and,  on  a 
grander  scale,  near  Botzen,  in  Tyrol,  and  in  America  on  the  Colorado  flyer  <>f  the  west 

8  See  Ladoucette's  Haidcs-Alpcs,  p.  596. 

*  The  Hotel  de  l'Ours  has  ceased  to  exist.  The  Hfltel  de  la  l\ii\  in  tin-  town. 
and  another  at  the  Railway  Station,  are  now  the  two  most  frequented  places.  The 
latter  is  by  far  the  better  of  the  two. 


CROSSING    MONT   CENIS  (l86l). 


CHAPTEE   III. 

THE  MOXT  CEXIS — THE  FELL  RAILWAY — THE  GREAT 
TUXXEL  THROUGH  THE  ALPS. 


Guide-books  say  that  the  pass  of  the  Mont  Cenis  is  dull.  It  is 
long,  certainly,  yet  it  has  a  fair  proportion  of  picturesque  points, 
and  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  it  can  oe  dull  to  those  who  have 
eyes.  In  the  days  when  it  was  a  rude  mountain-track,  crossed 
by  trains  of  mules,  and  when  it  was  better  known  to  smugglers 
than  to  tourists,  it  may  have  been  somewhat  dull;  but  when 
Napoleon's  road  changed  the  rough  path  into  one  of  the  finest 
highways  in  Europe,  mounting  in  grand  curves  and  by  uniform 
grades,  and  rendered  the  trot  possible  throughout  the  entire 
distance,  the  Mont  Cenis  became  one  of  the  most  interesting 
passes  in  the  Alps.  The  diligence  service  which  was  established 
was  excellent,  and  there  was  little  or  nothing  to  be  gained  by 


46  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  ohap.iil 

travelling  in  a  more  expensive  manner.    The  hones  were  changed 

as  rapidly  as  on  the  best,  lines  in   the  best  period  of  couching   in 

England,  and  the  diligences  themselves  were  as  comfortable  as  i 
"milord"  eonld  desire.  The  most  exciting  portion  of  the  route 
was  undoubtedly  thai  between  Lanslebourg  and  Sosa.  When  the 
zigzags  began,  teams  of  mules  were  hooked  on,  and  the  driver  and 

his  helpers  marched  by  their  side  with  long  whips,  which  they 
handled  skilfully.  Passengers  dismounted,  and  stretched  their 
legs  by  cutting  the  curves.  The  pace  was  slow  hut  steady,  and 
scarcely  a  halt  was  made  during  the  rise  of  2000  feet.  Crack  1 
eiack  !  went  the  whips  as  the  corners  of  the  zigzags  were  turned 
Great  commotion  among  the  mules!  They  scrambled  and  went 
round  with  a  rush,  tossing  their  heads  and  making  music  with 
their  hells.  The  summit  was  gained,  the  mules  were  detached  and 
trotted  hack  merrily,  while  we,  with  fresh  horses,  were  di. 
at  the  gallop  over  the  plain  to  the  other  side.  The  little  postilion 
seated  on  the  leader  smacked  his  whip  lustily 
as  he  swept  round  the  corners  cut  through 
the  rock,  and  threw  his  head  back,  as  the 
echoes  returned,  expectant  of  smiles  and  of 
future  centimes. 

The  air  was  keen  and  often  chilly,  hut  the 
summit  was  soon  passed,  and  one  quickly  de- 
scended to  warmth  again.  Once  more  there  was  a  change.  The 
horses,  reduced  in  number  to  three,  or  perhaps  two,  were  t In- 
sturdiest  and  most  sure  of  foot,  and  they  raced  down  with  the  pre- 
cision of  old  stagers.  Woe  to  the  diligence  if  they  stumbled  !  So 
t bought  the  conductor,  who  screwed  down  the  breaks  as  the  corners 
were  approached.  The  horses,  held  well  in  hand,  leant  inwards 
as  the  top-heavy  vehicle,  so  suddenly  checked,  heeled  almost  over; 
bat  in  another  moment  the  break  was  released,  and  again  they  swept 
down,  urged  onwards  by  whip,  "hoi,"  and  "ha"  of  the  driver. 

All  this  was  changed.     The  Victor  Emmanuel  railway  super- 
seded a  considerable  portion  of  Napoleon's  road,  and  the  "Fell" 


cM.MMii.  THE  FELL  RAILWAY.  47 

railway  did  the  rest;  ami  when  the  great  tunnel  of  tin-  Alps  was 
opened  for  traffic,  that  brought  about  another  change. 

The  Fell  railway,  which  was  open  about  four  years,  was  a  line 
that  well  deserved  attention.  Forty  years  earlier,  Mr.  Charles 
Yignolles,  the  eminent  engineer,  and  Mr.  Ericsson,  patented  the 
idea  which  became  an  accomplished  fact  on  the  Mont  Cenis. 
Nothing  was  done  with  it  until  Mr.  Fell,  the  projector  of  the  rail- 
way which  bore  his  name,  took  it  up;  and  to  him  much  credit 
was  due  for  bringing  an  admirable  principle  into  operation. 

The  Fell  railway  followed  the  great  Cenis  road  very  closely, 
and  diverged  from  it  either  to  avoid  villages  or  houses,  or,  as  at 
the  summit  of  the  pass  on  the  Italian  side,  to  ease  the  gradients. 
The  line  ran  from  St.  Michel  to  Susa.  The  distance  between 
those  two  places  is,  as  the  crow  flies,  almost  exactly  equivalent  to 
the  distance  from  London  to  Chatham;  but  by  reason  of  the 
numerous  curves  and  detours  the  length  of  the  line  was  nearly 
brought  up  to  the  distance  of  London  from  Brighton.  From  St. 
Michel  to  the  summit  of  the  pass  it  rose  4460  feet,  or  900  feet 
more  than  the  highest  point  of  Snowdon  is  above  the  level  of  the 
sea ;  and  from  the  summit  of  the  pass  to  Susa,  a  distance  less  than 
that  from  London  to  Kew,  it  descended  no  less  than  5211  feet! 

The  railway  itself  was  a  marvel.  For  fifteen  miles  and  three- 
quarters  it  had  steeper  gradients  than  one  in  fifteen.  In  some 
places  it  rose  one  foot  in  twelve  and  a  half!  An  incline  at  this 
angle,  starting  from  the  base  of  the  Nelson  Column  in  Trafalgar 
Square,  would  reach  the  top  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  if  it  were 
placed  at  Temple  Bar !  A  straight  piece  of  railway  constructed 
on  such  a  gradient  seems  to  go  up  a  steep  hill.  One  in  eighty,  or 
even  one  in  a  hundred,  produces  a  very  sensible  diminution  in 
the  pace  of  a  light  train  drawn  by  an  ordinary  locomotive; 
how,  then,  could  a  train  be  taken  up  an  incline  six  timas  as 
steep  ?  It  was  accomplished  by  means  of  a  third  rail  placed  mid- 
way between  the  two  ordinary  ones,  and  elevated  above  them.1 

1  This  third  rail,  or,  as  it  was  termed,   "the  ceutre  rail,"  was  laid  ou  all  the 


48 


Si'HAMllLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS. 


CHAP.  III. 


The  engines  were  provided  with  two  pain  of  horizontal 
driving-wheels  as  well  as  with  the  ordinary  coupled  vertical  ones, 
and  the  power  of  the  machine  vraa  thus  much  increased.  The 
horizontal  wheels  gripped  the  centre  rail  with  great  tenacity  by 
being  hrought  together,  and  were  almost  incapable  of  slipping, 
like  the  ordinary  wheels  when  on  even  a  moderate  gradient. 

The  third  rail  was 
the  ordinary  double- 
headed  rail,  and  was 
laid  horizontally.   It 
was  bolted  down  to 
wrought-iron  chairs, 
three     feet     apart, 
which     were     fixed 
by  common  coach- 
Bcrewa  to  a  longitu- 
dinal   sleeper,    laid 
across      the     usual 
transverse  ones.     The  sleepers  were  attached  to  each  other  by 
fang-bolts.     The  dimensions  of  the  different  parts  will  be  seen  by 
reference  to  the  annexed  cross  section : — 


THE   CENTKE    KAIL   ON    A    CUKVE. 


JL 


S^" 


u     •'  -'•    *i_ 


SCALE     OF     FCCT 
3 


For  some  distance  from  St.  Michel  the  gradients  were  not  un- 
usual, and  a  good  pace  was  maintained.  The  first  severe  piece 
was  about  two  miles  up,  where  there  was  an   incline  of  one  in 


.st«<i>  jxntii.iis  of  the  line,  and  round  all  except  tin-  mildest  curves. 
in  all,  of  the  road  had  the  centre  rail. 


Thirty  miles, 


chap.  in.  A  STEEP  RAILWAY.  49 

eighteen 1  for  more  than  half-a-mile.  The  line  rose  at  one  step 
one  hundred  and  sixty-four  feet.  Thence  to  Modane  the  gradients 
were  again  moderate  (for  a  railway)  and  the  distance — about  ten 
miles  and  a  half  from  St.  Michel — was  accomplished  without 
difficulty  in  an  hour.  Modane  station  was  1128  feet  above  St. 
Michel,  so  that  on  this  easy  portion  of  the  line  there  was  an 
average  rise  of  110  feet  per  mile,  which  is  equal  to  a  gradient  of 
one  in  forty-eight;  an  inclination  sufficiently  steep  to  bring  an 
ordinary  locomotive  very  nearly  to  a  halt. 

Just  after  passing  Modane  station  there  was  one  of  the 
steepest  inclines  on  the  line,  and  it  seemed  preposterous  to 
suppose  that  any  train  could  ascend  it.  When  this  was  passed, 
the  line  mounted  by  comparatively  easy  gradients  towards  Fort 
Lesseillon.  It  was  then  at  a  great  height  above  the  Arc,  and 
wound  around  the  faces  of  the  cliff  out  of  which  the  Napoleon 
road  was  cut,  looking  down  upon  the  foaming  stream  below.  The 
next  remarkable  point  was  at  Termignon.  The  track  made  a  great 
bend,  then  doubled  back,  and  rose  in  a  little  more  than  a  mile  no 
less  than  three  hundred  and  thirty-four  feet.  This  was,  perhaps, 
the  most  striking  piece  of  the  whole  line. 

Lanslebourg  station,  25J  miles  from,  and  2220  feet  above,  St. 
Michel,  was  arrived  at  in  two  hours  and  a  quarter  from  the  latter 
place,  and  the  railway  then  rose  continuously  to  the  summit  of 
the  Mont  Cenis  pass,  accomplishing  an  ascent  of  2240  feet  in  six 
miles  and  a  third  of  distance.  It  was  curious  and  interesting  to 
watch  the  ascent  of  the  trains  from  Lanslebourg.  The  puffs  of 
steam  were  seen  rising  above  the  trees,  sometimes  going  in  one 
direction,  and  sometimes  in  directly  the  contrary,  occasionally 
concealed  by  covered  ways — for  over  two  miles  out  of  the  six  the 
line  was  enclosed  by  planked  sides  and  a  corrugated  iron  roof  to 
keep  out  the  snow — and  then  coming  out  again  into  daylight. 
The  zigzags  of  the  old  Cenis  road  are  well  known  as  one  of  the 

1  The  inclination  of  the  steepest  part  of  Old  Holborn  Hill.  RdB«y'a  fftuwWm 
'•a  Railways. 

II 


60 


Si'HAMr.l.KS   AMOXUST  THE  ALPS. 


CHAP.  HI. 


most  remarkable  pieces  of  road -engineering  in  tin-  Alps.  The 
railway  followed  them,  and  ran  ] >;n alh-l  t<.  the  road  on  the  outside 
throughout  the  whole  distance,  with  the  exception  of  the  turns 
at  thr  cuiiirrs.  where  it  was  carried  a  little  farther  out,  to  render 
the  curves  less  sharp.  Nevertheless  they  vere  sufficiently  Bharp 
L35  feet  radius),  and  would  have  been  impracticable  without  the 
centre  rail. 

The  run  across  the  top  of  the  pass,  from  the  Summit  station  to 
the  Grande  Croix  station — a  distance  of  about  five  miles — was 


THE  COVERED   WAYS   ON    THE    "fEI.I.''    RAILWAY  (ITALIAN    SIDE   OF    THE    MONT   CENIs). 

soon  accomplished,  and  then  the  tremendous  descent  to  Susa 
commenced.  This,  as  seen  from  the  engine,  was  little  less  than 
terrific.  A  large  part  of  this  section  was  covered  in,1  and  the 
curves  succeeded  one  another  in  a  manner  unknown  on  any  other 
line.  From  the  outside  the  line  looked  more  like  a  monstrous 
Serpent  than  a  railway.  Inside  one  could  see  hut  a  few  yards 
ahead,  the  curves  were  so  Bharp.  On  emerging  into  the  open  air, 
one  looked  down  some  three  or  four  thousand  feet  of  precipice 
and  steep  mountain-side.  The  next  moment  the  engine  turned 
suddenly  to  the  left,  and  driver  and  stoker  had  to  grip  firmly  to 

1  On  tin-  Italian  side  then  W8TC  about  tlircc.i|iiart<  is  of  a  niilr  of  strongly-built 
avalanilic  gaUerfoa,    :in<l   more   tlian    time   miks  <>f  OOTOfWl   way. 


CENTRE    RAIL    BREAK. 


chap.  in.  77/  S  (  /•: A  77.*  B  /.*.  i  /  /.  /;/; /•;.  1  K .  •'.  I 

avoid  being  left  behind.  The  next,  it  tinned  as  suddenly  to  tin- 
right ;  the  next  there  was  an  accession  or  diminution  of  speed, 
from  a  change  in  the  gradient.  An  ordinary  engine,  moving  at 
tifty  miles  an  hour,  with  a  train  behind  it,  is  not  usually  very 
steady,  but  its  motion  is  a  trifle  compared  with  that  of  a  Fell 
engine  when  running  down  hill. 

The  trains,  however,  ran  smoothly,  and  this  was  partly  due  to 
the  fact  that  each  carriage  was  provided  with  a  centre  rail  break. 
The  flat  face  A,  and  the  corresponding  one  on  the  opposite  side, 
were  brought  together  against 
the  two  sides  of  the  centre 
rail  by  the  shaft  B  being 
turned,  and  they  held  it  as 
in  a  vice.  This  greatly 
diminished  up  -  and  -  down 
motion,  and  rendered  oscilla- 
tion almost  impossible.  The 
steadiness  of  the  train  was  still  further  maintained  by  pairs  of 
flanged  guide -wheels  under  each  of  the  carriages,  which,  on 
straight  pieces  of  line,  barely  touched  the  centre  rail,  but 
pressed  upon  it  directly  there  was  the  least  deviation  towards 
either  side. 

The  steam  was  shut  off,  and  the  breaks  applied,  a  very  few 
minutes  after  beginning  the  descent  to  Susa.  The  trains  might 
then  have  run  down  for  the  entire  distance  by  their  own  weight. 
Iii  practice,  it  was  difficult  to  apply  the  proper  amount  of  retarda- 
tion ;  the  breaks  had  frequently  to  be  whistled  off,  and  sometimes 
it  was  necessary  to  steam  down  against  them.  Ordinarily,  they 
went  down  with  the  steam  shut  off,  and  with  the  centre  rail 
breaks  screwed  up  moderately;  and  when  a  train  composed  of 
two  or  three  carnages  and  a  luggage-van  was  running  down  at  the 
maximum  speed  allowed  (fifteen  miles  an  hour),  the  breaks  could 
pull  it  up  dead  within  seventy  yards.  Tin-  engines  were  also 
provided  with  centre  rail  breaks,  on  a  pattern  somewhat  different 


H  SCRAMllLKS  AM0NQ8T  THE  ALPS.  CHAP.  in. 

from  those  oil  the  carriages,  and  the  Bal  tidee  which  pi 
against  the  rails  were  renewed  tveryjowney.    A  Bangle  run  from 
Lanslebourg  to  Susa  made  grooves  into  them  about  three-eighths 
of  an  inch  in  depth. 

The  Fell  railway  was  an  experimental  line,  and  as  such  it  was 
a  success.  It  reduced  the  time  that  was  formerly  occupied  in 
pawing  from  St.  Michel  to  Susa  by  nearly  one-half;  it  lessened 
expense  and  gave  increased  comfort  to  travellers.  The  gangs 
(3  feet  7$  inches)  was  a  mistake,  inasmuch  as  it  lost  time  and 
caused  trouble  by  the  transference  of  the  passengers,  limited  the 
power  of  the  engines,  and  rendered  the  rolling  stock  unfit  for 
general  use,  when  the  line  was  pulled  up, — which,  according  to 
the  terms  of  the  concession  that  was  granted  to  the  promoters,  was 
done  when  the  great  tunnel  of  the  Alps  was  opened  for  traffic. 

When  M.  Medail  of  Bardonneche — more  than  half  a  century 
ago  —  pointed  out  that  a  shorter  tunnel  could  be  constructed 
beneath  the  Alps  between  his  village  and  Modane  than  at  any 
other  place  in  the  Sardinian  States  having  a  similar  elevation 
above  the  level  of  the  sea,  neither  he,  nor  any  other  person,  had 
the  least  idea  how  the  project  could  be  executed. 

The  first  step  was  taken  by  the  geologists  Sismonda  and  Klie 
de  Beaumont.  They  predicted  that  calcareous  schists  and 
ipiartzite  rocks  would  form  a  large  proportion  of  the  strata 
through  which  the  tunnel  would  pass.  It  takes  a  miner  one 
hour  and  a  half  to  two  hours  to  make  an  ordinary  hole  for  blasting 
L'S  inches  deep)  in  calcareous  schist,  and  not  less  than  eight  hours 
to  make  one  20  inches  deep  in  quartzite.1  Wfasb  would  the 
tunnel  have  been  finished  if  the  ordinary  processes  had  been  alone 
employed  ? 

The  ordinary  processes  were  clearly  unavailable.  The  tunnel 
would  be  of  prodigious  length,  and  would  have  to  be  constructed 
without  shafts.     At  no  place  where  a  shaft  would   have  been  of 

1  These  were  tin-  times  actually  occupied  in  the  tunnel. 


CHAP.iii.  THE  GREAT  TUNNEL  OF  THE  A  US.  53 

any  use  would  it  have  been  possible  to  make  one  less  than  1000 
feet  deep!  If  one  had  been  made  about  midway  between  the  t\v<» 
ends,  it  would  have  been  no  less  than  5315  feet  deep.  "  I 
estimate,"  says  M.  Conte,1  "that  the  sinking  of  a  shaft  a  mile  in 
depth  would  occupy  not  less  than  forty  years.  I  do  not  know 
that  a  depth  of  1000  feet  has  been  hitherto  passed."2 

"  Several  projects  were  presented  to  the  Sardinian  government, 
some  proposing  to  shorten  the  length  of  the  tunnel  by  raising  its 
level,  and  others  to  accelerate  the  boring  of  the  holes  for  blasting ; 
but  they  were  all  put  aside  as  impossible,  or  as  having  been 
insufficiently  studied.  The  first  one  seriously  considered  by  the 
government  was  that  of  M.  Maus,  a  Belgian  engineer.  He  pro- 
posed to  construct  a  tunnel  of  12,230  metres  between  Bardonneche 
and  Modane,  with  a  ruling  gradient  of  19  in  1000.  The  advance 
of  the  small  gallery  in  front  was  to  be  made  by  means  of  a 
machine  with  chisels,  put  in  motion  by  springs,  that  would  have 
cut  the  rock  into  blocks — leaving  them  attached  only  at  the 
back — which  were  afterwards  to  be  brought  down  by  means  of 
wedges." 

"M.  Colladon  of  Geneva  suggested  moving  the  tools  of  the 
machine  of  M.  Maus  by  means  of  compressed  air,  but  he  neither 
pointed  out  the  means  of  compressing  the  air,  nor  how  it  was  to 
be  applied  as  a  motive  power." 

"  The  government  had  constructed  the  railway  from  Turin  to 
Genoa,  and  engineers  were  studying  how  to  tug  the  trains  up  the 
incline  at  Busalla,  which  has  a  gradient  of  1  in  29.  MM.  Grandis, 
Grattoni,  and  Sommeiller  proposed  to  compress  air  by  means  of 
the  '  compresseur  a,  choc,'  and  to  employ  it  for  the  traction  of  the 
trains." 

"  Mr.  Bartlett,  an  English  engineer  on  the  Victor  Emmanuel 

1  If.  Conte,  a  well-known  French  engineer,  was  a  member  of  a  commission  ap- 
pointed to  examine  the  progress  of  this  tunnel  in  1863.  His  Report  is  one  of  the 
most  accurate  and  complete  accounts  of  it  that  have  been  published. 

2  M.  Conte  refers  to  tunnel -shafts. 


U  Si'KAMULES  AMitXUST  THE  ALPS.  OHAP.  nx 

Railway,1   had  invented  ii  machine  for  making  holes  for  blasting 
which  was  put  in  motion  by  steam.     The  machine  was  imperfect, 
ami   while   experiments   were    being   made   with    it  (by    means  of 
compressed    air;,    M.    Sommeiller    invented    the    boring  -  machine 
which  is  now  used   in   the  tunnel." 

"The  problem  then  appeared  to  be  solved.  The  inventors 
joined  themselves  to  M.  Eanco — who  had  taken  part  in  their 
experiments  on  the  Genoa  Railway  and  prepared  a  scheme,  after 
having  found  oat  that  they  could  compress  air  to  a  high  pressure, 
that  this  air  could  be  led  from  closed  reservoirs  and  transmitted 
to  great  distances  without  a  sensible  diminution  of  its  pressure, 
and  that  it  could  be  employed  to  move  the  boring-machine  which 
was  intended  to  make  the  holes  for  blasting.  A  commission  was 
appointed  to  examine  the  project,  and  its  members  satisfied  them- 
selves that  the  scheme  was  feasible.  The  Act  of  August  15,  1857, 
authorised  the  government  to  construct  the  section  of  the  Victor 
Kminaiiuel  Railway  between  Susa  and  Modane,  and  MM.  Grandis, 
Grattoni,  and  Sommeiller,  were  appointed  to  direct  the  works," 

\M.  Medail  indicated  the  general  direction  of  the  tunnel  be- 
tween Modane  and  Bardonneche.  M.  Maus  drew  his  line  a  little 
more  to  the  east,  nearer  to  Modane.  The  engineers  who  directed 
the  work  approached  the  latter  course,  and  selected  that  which 
seemed  to  them  to  be  the  shortest,  the  most  easy  to  come  out  at, 
and,  especially,  the  most  convenient  to  lay  out." 

"It  is  needless  to  insist  on  the  importance  of  the  tracing  of  the 
coarse  of  the  tunnel.  It  was  necessary — 1st,  To  establish  upon 
the  mountain  a  sullicient  number  of  marks  in  order  to  determine 
the  vertical  plane  passing  through  the  axis  of  the  gallery:  2.  To 
measure  exactly  the  distance  between  the  two  mouths;  3.  To 
determine  the  difference  of  level  between  the  two  mouths,  in  order 
to  arrange  the  gradients  of  the  tunnel.     These  delicate  operations 

1  The  Victor  Enmiainml  Railway  Comiiany  no  longer  exists.  The  section  in 
France  was  joined  to  the  Paris,  Lyons,  ami  Mediterranean  Railway,  and  that  in 
Italy  to  the  Alta  Italia  system. 


chap.  in.  ITS  LENGTH.  65 

were  entrusted  to  MM.  Borelli  and  Copello.  M.  Grandis  under- 
took the  control  of  the  work.  .  .  In  1858  the  triangulationa  and 
levellings  were  undertaken,  and  they  were  terminated  at  the  end 
of  the  year." 

On  account  of  the  peculiar  situation  of  the  ends  of  the 
tunnel,  two  small,  connecting,  curved  tunnels  had  to  be  mad.-. 
At  first,  "the  construction  of  these  terminal  curves  was 
naturally  neglected  for  the  establishment  of  the  two  false 
mouths  in  the  direction  of  the  general  line." 

"The  length  between  the  two  false  mouths  is  12,22000 metres. 
The  entry  on  the  side  of  Italy  is  at  a  height  of        1335*38       „ 

France  „  1202-82 


Difference  of  level  132-56 

This  difference  of  level  is  overcome  by  a  gradient 
of  222  in  10,000,  which  rises  from  the  French 
entry  to  the  centre1         .  .  .  =  135-64 

A  gradient  of  1  in  2000,  which  rises  from  the 

Italian  entry  to  the  centre1       .  .  =       3*06 


132-58 


If  a  single  gradient  had  ruled  throughout,  rising  from  the  French 
to  the  Italian  side,  it  would  have  been  reduced  to  217  in  20,000 ; 
but  although  this  would  have  been  of  the  greatest  advantage  in 
working  the  line,  it  would  have  added  one  more  difficulty  to  the 
construction  of  the  tunnel.  There  were  enough  difficulties 
without  adding  another." 

"  It  was,  besides,  evident  that  driving  the  tunnel  to  a  summit 
doubled  the  chances  of  the  two  ends  meeting,  and  negatived  to  a 

1  The  summit  is  a  few  feet  higher  than  M.  Conte  states,  as  the  gradients  were 
increased.  The  length  of  the  tunnel  also  is  slightly  greater  than  that  mentioned 
ahove.  The  calculated  length  was  13,364£  yards  (12,220  metres).  The  act  mil 
length,  excluding  the  small  curved  tunnels  at  its  ends,  is  13, 379 J  yards.  Its  total 
length,  including  the  curved  tunnels,  is  14,0f>lij  yards,  or  8  miles  all  hut  8f»  f«it. 


56  SCHAM11LKS  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  char  hi. 

certain  extent,  the  possibilities  of  error  from  the  two  operations 
upon  which  the  least  dependence  could  be  placed;— the  trian- 
gulation  and  the  levelling.  Provided  that  the  two  axes  were 
in  the  same  direction,  they  were  obliged  to  meet  sooner  or  later; 
whether  this  happened  a  few  yards  more  to  the  north  or  to  the 
south  was  of  no  importance."1 

At  the  commencement  of  the  tunnel,  in  1857,  there  was  no 
accommodation  at  either  end  for  those  employed  on  the  works; 
and  for  a  long  time  both  engineers  and  workmen  had  to  submit  to 
numerous  privations.  Roads  had  to  be  made,  and  barracks  to  be 
erected.  One  after  another,  houses  and  shops  were  added,  and 
at  last  the  tunnel  -buildings  alone  formed  considerable  villages 
at  the  two  ends.2 

The  situations  of  the  two  mouths  are  essentially  different  from 
each  other.  That  at  Bardonneche  comes  out  at  the  bottom  of  the 
Valley  of  Eochemolles;  that  at  Fourneaux  (Modane)  300  feet  above 
the  Mont  Cenis  road.  At  the  latter  end  the  debris  has  been  sin  it 
out  from  the  mouth  down  the  mountain -side;  and,  large  as  the 
tip  (to  use  the  language  of  navvies)  undoubtedly  is,  it  is  difficult 
to  believe  one  sees  all  the  material  that  has  been  extracted.  It 
is  interesting  as  showing  the  greatest  angle  at  which  di'bris  will 
stand.     Its  faces  have,  as  nearly  as  possible,  an  angle  of  45°. 

Dozing  four  years  the  ordinary  means  of  excavation  were 
alone  employed,  and  but  1300  yards  were  driven.  In  this  time 
the  machines  were  being  constructed   which    were   destined    to 

1  Conte.     Confirences  faites  a  VEcoh  Imjrtriah  des  ronts  et  Chaussies.     1864. 

2  At  Bardonneche  alone  there  were: — 1.  Close  to  the  tunnel-mouth — lodgings 
for  the  miners,  the  princij>al  storehouses,  stables,  forges  for  repairing  tin-  drills. 
St,  At  Bardonneche,  lialf-a-mile  distant  from  the  mouth — large  barracks  for  the 
workmen  ;  six  other  buildings  for  workmen  ;  one  house  for  other  employ  >'s  : 
rejiairing-shops  for  the  machinery  ;  storehouses  ;  a  foundry  ;  the  building  con- 
taining the  "  compresseurs  a  choc,"  and  the  reservoirs  for  feeding  the  same;  gas- 
works ;  a  building  containing  an  infirmary,  washhouses,  etc.  ;  two  building  for 
"compresseurs  a  pompe;"  one  building  for  new  reservoirs  of  compressed  air  ;  a 
eantine  and  a  jwrter's  lodge.  An  enumeration  of  the  buildings  at  Fourneaux 
(Modane)  would  l»e  nearly  a  repetition  of  the  above. 


fii  vr.  in.  THE   HORING  MACHINES.  57 

supersede  a  large  part  of  the  manual  labour.  At  the  beginning  of 
1861  they  were  sufficiently  advanced  to  be  put  to  work,  and  in 
the  summer  of  that  year  I  went  from  Briancon  to  Bardonneche 
to  see  them  in  operation.1 

The  clocks  of  Oulx  had  just  struck  twelve  on  the  night  of 
the  16th  of  August,  as  the  diligence  crawled  into  the  village  from 
1  iria  119011,  conveying  a  drunken  driver,  a  still  more  intoxicated 
conducteur,  and  myself.  The  keeper  of  the  inn  at  which  we 
stopped  declined  to  take  me  in,  so  I  sought  for  repose  in  a  neigh- 
bouring oatfield,  and  the  next  morning  mightily  astonished  a 
native  when  I  rose  enveloped  in  my  blanket  bag.  He  looked 
aghast  for  a  moment  at  the  apparition  which  seemed  to  spring  out 
of  the  ground,  and  then  turning  round  in  a  nervous,  twitching 
manner,  dropped  his  spade  and  fairly  bolted,  followed  by  hearty 
shouts  of  laughter. 

Bardonneche  was  about  an  hour  distant.  A  strange  banging 
noise  could  be  heard  a  long  way  off,  and  a  few  minutes  after  my 
arrival,  I  stood  in  one  of  the  shops  by  the  side  of  the  machine 
which  was  causing  it,  and  by  the  side  of  M.  Sommeiller,  the 
inventor  of  the  machine.  They  were  experimenting  with  one  of 
his  "  perforatrices,"  and  a  new  form  of  boring-rod,  upon  a  huge 
block  of  rock  which  was  already  riddled  by  more  than  a  hundred 
holes,  varying  from  one  inch  to  four  and  a  half  in  diameter. 
The  perforatrice — a  simple -looking  cylinder  fixed  in  a  square 
frame,  and  connected  with  a  few  pipes  and  stop-cocks — was  placed 
in  a  fresh  position  in  front  of  the  rock,  and,  at  a  sign  from  the 
engineer,  was  set  in  motion.      A  boring- rod  darted  out  like  a 

1  In  the  previous  year  I  visited  Modane,  and,  favoured  by  introductions  from 
M.  Ch.  Lafitte,  at  that  time  President  of  the  Victor  Emmanuel  Railway,  was  shown 
all  that  there  was  then  to  be  seen.  I  visited  Modane  again  in  1869,  and,  for  the 
third  time,  went  to  the  end  of  the  advanced  gallery.  I  have  to  thank  M.  Mella  and 
Sig.  Borelli,  the  directors  of  the  works  in  1861  at  Modane  and  Ilardouneche 
respectively,  for  their  attention  in  1860-1,  and  jiarticularly  Signor  Copello,  who 
latterly  became  director  at  Modane,  for  the  facilities  given  and  for  the  information 
afforded  by  him. 

I 


58 


SCRAMBLES  AMVNGST  THE  ALPS. 


CHAP.  III. 


flash  of  lightning,  chipped  out  Several  fragments  at  a  blow,  and 
withdrew  as  quickly  as  it  had  advanced.  Bang,  bang,  it  went 
again  with  the  noise  of  a  gong.  In  ten  seconds  the  head  of  the 
borer  had  eaten  itself  a  hole;  in  a  minute  it  had  all  but  dis- 
appeared; in  twelve  it  had  drilled  a  hole  nearly  a  yard  deep,  as 
cleanly  as  a  carpenter  could  in  a  piece  of  wood.  The  rod  not  only 
moved  backwards  and  forwards,  and  advanced  as  the  hole  grew 
deeper,  but  turned  gently  round  the  whole  time.  A  jet  of  water, 
projected  with  great  force,  cooled  the  chisel,  and  washed  out  the 
chips.  More  air  was  turned  on,  atld  the  sound  of  the  blows  could 
no  longer  be  distinguished  one  from  another.  They  made  a 
continuous  rattle,  and  the  rate  was  increased  from  two  hundred 
to  no  less  than  three  hundred  arid  forty  strokes  per  minute,  or 
about  half  as  fast  again  as  the  motion  of  the  piston-rod  of  an 
express  locomotive  when  going  sixty  miles  an  hour. 

On  approaching  the  tunnel-moUths,  the  pipes  were  seen  which 
conducted  the  compressed  air  for  the  working  of  these  boring- 
machines.     They  were   eight   inches   in  diameter,   supported   on 

pillars  of  masonry.  As 
"*-Hp7"-^  these  pipes  (b),  outside 
the  tunnel,  were  ex- 
posed to  constant  vari- 
ations of  temperature 
—  sometimes  to  as 
much  as  54°  Fahr.  in 
a  single  day  —  it  was 
necessary  to  guard 
against  their  expansion 
and  contraction.  They 
were  fixed  accordingly 
at  stated  intervals  by 
means  of  iron  rods,  the  lower  ends  of  which  were  carried  through 
the  masonry  and  bolted  to  plates  on  the  outside.  The  intermediate 
pipes  were  carried  on  rollers  (d)  on  the  tops  of  the  pillars,  and 


£m0 


^= 


^K 


CHAP.  III. 


GREAT  SIZE  OF  THE  TUNNEL. 


M 


between  each  of  the  fixed  points  th^re  was  one  pipe  having  an 
enlarged  mouth — terminated  by  a  ofceek — which  received  the  end 
(a)  of  the  ordinary  pipe.  A  circular  pipe  of  leather  (c)  was 
secured  to  the  cheek  by  means  of  a  metal  washer,  and,  pressed 
down  by  the  compressed  air  on  the  end  of  the  ordinary  pipe, 
made  the  joint  sufficiently  air-tight,  although  it  did  not  hinder  the 
advance  or  the  retreat  of  the  pipe.  In  the  tunnel  itself,  where 
the  temperature  was  not  subject  to  such  fluctuations,  these  pre- 
cautions were  not  necessary,  and  the  pipes  were  carried  along  the 
walls,  supported  by  brackets,  as  far  as  the  end  of  the  finished  work. 
Through  these  pipes  highly  compressed  air  was  conducted,  and 
was  delivered  at  the 
end  of  the  "advanced 
gallery "  where  the 
boring- machines  were 
at  work,  with  only  a 
slight  diminution  in 
its  pressure,  notwith- 
standing the  escapes 
which  occurred  at  the 
joints. 

On  entering  the 
tunnel  one  was  struck 
by  its  size.  The 
Italians,  with  mag- 
nificent disregard  of 
expense,  or  from  re- 
gard   to    the    future, 

constructed  it  with  two  pairs  of  rails,  and  with  a  footpath 
On  each  side.  From  the  rails  to  the  crown  of  the  arch  its 
height  is  just  20  feet,  and  its  width  is  26  feet  6  inches.  It  is 
almost  everywhere  lined  with  masonry ;  a  small  fraction  only  of 
the  rock  is  left  unsupported.  Not  observed,  though  nevertheless 
existing,  is  a  covered  way  about  3  feet  4  inches  high,  and  4  feet 


SCALE    OF    FEET 


60  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  Airs.  our. in. 

wide,  which  is  made  in  the  Hour  of  the  tunnel  between  tin-  rails. 
It  is  in  hot  a  tunnel  within  a  tunnel.  Originally  its  dimensions 
were  li'ss,  and  ii  was  intended  merely  as  a  suhway  in  which  the 
pipes  conveying  the  compressed  air  might  be  placed,  and  as  a 
drain.  It  was  found  convenient  to  enlarge  its  size,  and  after 
that  was  done — on  at  least  one  occasion — it  served  a  purpose 
for  which  it  was  not  originally  intended.  On  the  L5th  of 
September  1863,  a  sudden  fall  of  rock  occurred,  which  killed 
several  miners  and  imprisoned  about  sixty  others  who  were  at 
work  in  the  advanced  gallery.  They  were  greatly  alarmed,  and 
expected  to  be  starved;  but  at  last  one  of  them  remembered  this 
subway,  and  they  escaped  by  its  means.  After  that  occasion,  the 
miners,  knowing  they  had  this  exit,  troubled  themselves  very  little 
about  eboulements. 

During  its  construction,  the  temperature  of  the  tunnel  re- 
mained tolerably  uniform  throughout  the  year,  although  much 
higher  in  some  parts  than  in  others.  On  the  occasion  of  my  visit 
in  1869,  the  exterior  temperature  was  631<5  Fahr.  in  the  shade ;  a 
mile  from  the  entrance  it  was  65°,  and  the  mouth  looked  like  tin- 
sun  on  a  misty  November  day.  At  two  miles  the  thermometer 
showed  70°,  the  atmosphere  had  become  foul,  and  the  mouth  was 
invisible.  In  two  hundred  and  fifty  paces  more,  it  had  risen  to 
75°,  the  tunnel  was  filled  with  dense  clouds  of  smoke,  the  light  of 
an  ordinary  miner's  lamp  could  not  be  perceived  at  the  distance  of 
five  or  six  yards,  and  respiration  was  difficult,  for  the  atmosphere 
was  vile.  This  was  at  the  end  of  the  finished  work.  Hence  air 
was  drawn  by  pumping-engines  at  the  mouth,  for  it  was  here- 
abouts that  all  the  foul  vapours  naturally  accumulated.  The 
great  vault  was  no  longer  overhead,  and  the  way  was  reduced  to  a 
drift  eight  or  nine  feet  wide  and  scarcely  as  much  high,  en- 
cumbered  with  waggons  filled  with  debris,  between  which  and  the 
walls  one  could  barely  pass.  In  a  hundred  feet  or  so,  we  emerged 
— comparatively  speaking — into  a  blaze  of  light.  Two  hundred 
greasy,  smoky,  but  still  light-giving  lamps,  hung  from  the  walls. 


0HAP.  hi.  TEMPERATURE  OF  THE  TUNNEL.  CI 

Drops  of  water  Hashed  past  them  like  gems.  Two  hundred  men 
toiled  at  the  enlargement  of  the  gallery — hearded,  grimy  men, 
some  on  their  hacks,  some  on  their  sides,  some  working  overhead, 
some  half  naked,  some  quite  naked — all  tapping  laboriously  at 
their  mining-rods,  and  all  perspiring  profusely.  The  temperature 
had  risen  to  81  £°.  The  multitude  of  the  lights,  the  crowd  of  men, 
and  the  obscurity  of  the  smoke,  helped  to  make  the  tunnel  look  an 
immense  size — in  fact,  at  this  part,  in  its  rough,  unfinished  con- 
dition, it  was  sometimes  little  less  than  30  feet  high  and  35  feet 
wide.  Not  merely  was  rock  removed  at  the  top  and  sides,  to  be 
afterwards  replaced  by  masonry,  but  it  was  occasionally  excavated 
for  an  inverted  arch,  which  was  placed  wherever  it  was  necessary. 
The  temperature  was,  as  nearly  as  possible,  the  same  at  the  roof  of 
the  gallery  as  it  was  on  the  floor ;  for  jets  of  compressed  air  were 
let  off  above.  The  work  of  the  masons  would  otherwise  have  been 
unendurable. 

There  was  a  difference  then  of  18°  Fahr.  between  the  temper- 
ature outside  the  mouth  and  at  the  end  of  the  finished  work.  In 
winter  this  difference  was  trebled  or  quadrupled.  How  much  of 
the  increase  was  due  to  the  lights,  men,  and  horses,  and  how  much 
to  the  natural  temperature  of  the  rock  ?  If  the  heat  had  increased 
in  the  tunnel,  yard  by  yard,  at  the  same  rate  as  it  does  when 
descending  into  the  earth,  the  temperature  in  its  centre  should  have 
been  about  90°  higher  than  at  its  mouth.  Although  it  was  known 
that  the  rate  of  increase  was  much  less  than  this,  the  actual  rate 
was  not  known.  I  believe  it  is  correct  to  say  that  not  a  single 
observation  was  made  upon  the  natural  temperature  of  the  rock 
until  after  the  advanced  galleries  met.  Shortly  after  their 
junction  was  effected,  at  the  end  of  1870,  Signor  F.  Giordano 
(Inspector  of  Italian  Mines)  directed  his  attention  to  the  question, 
and  found  that  the  highest  reading  he  could  obtain  (near  the 
centre  of  the  tunnel)  was  85°  *1  Fahr.  The  temperature  of  the  otr 
at  the  same  part  was  slightly  al>ove  86°. 

About  2000  feet  on  the  French  side  of  the  tunnel  were  under- 


6S  S0BAMBLX8  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap,  m, 

going  tlif  processes  of  enlargement  and  completion  in  the  summer 
of  1869.  In  s<nnc  places  portions  of  tlif  advanced  gallery  re- 
mained untouched,  and  then  one  came  to  caverns,  such  as  have 
been  described  above.    This  section  was  being  completed  Caster 

than  the  advanced  gallery  was  being  driven  It  was  pleasant  to 
get  away  from  it  farther  into  the  howels  of  the  mountain:  the 
heat  became  less,  and  the  atmosphere  more  pure.  The  noise  of 
the  hammers  died  gradually  away,  and  at  last  DO  sound  could  he 
heard,  except  of  our  own  footsteps  and  of  water  running  in  the 
subway.  After  a  time  the  hanging  of  the  chisels  could  be  dis- 
tinguished which  were  at  work  on  the  front  of  the  attack.  Five 
hundred  paces  took  us  to  them.  The  ponderous  frame,  technically 
called  "l'affut,"  supported  nine  of  the  machines  known  as  fCper- 
foratrices;"  each  perforatrice  propelled  a  boring-rod,  and  each 
boring-rod  was  striking  the  rock  at  the  rate  of  200  strokes  per 
minute,  with  a  force  of  200  pounds.1  The  terrific  din  that  these 
1800  strokes  per  minute,  given  with  such  force,  made  in  a  rock- 
chamber  that  was  only  8  ft.  3  in.  high,  and  9  ft.  21  in.  wide,  can 
hardly  be  imagined;  neither  can  an  adequate  idea  be  given  of  the 
admirable  manner  in  which  the  machines  accomplished  their  work. 
In  spite  of  the  noise  and  the  cramped  position  in  which  the  men 
necessarily  toiled  on  account  of  the  limited  space,  the  work  went 
steadily  forward  day  and  night.  Each  man  knew  his  part  The 
foremen  directed  by  signs  rather  than  by  words;  the  labourers 
guided  the  chisels;  the  workmen  regulated  the  supply  of  air; 
the  machinists  were  ready  in  case  of  accident;  slim  boys,  with 
long-nosed  cans,  oiled  the  machinery.  Order  triumphed  in  the 
midst  of  apparent  confusion.  One  saw  the  results  of  years  of 
perfecting  and  of  practice.  Things  were  very  different  at  the 
beginning,  when  everything  was  new  both  to  workmen  and 
engineers. 

The  best  form  of  boring-rod  for  all  kinds  of  rock,  excepting 

1  The  perfontrioei  were  independent  machines,  rod  one  couM  be  rtoppi 
removed  without  arresting  the  progress  of  the  others 


CHAP.  III. 


SYSTEM  OF  BORING  ADOPTED. 


63 


such  as  were  homogeneous,  was  hit  upon  in  1861,  and  it  was 
always  used  afterwards.1  The  head  had  the  form  of  a  Z.  For 
homogeneous  rock,  the  ordinary  form  of  chisel  was  found  best. 
Almost  all  the  details  of  the  machinery,  the  size  of  the  gallery,  the 
dimensions  and  number  of  the  holes,  and  the  manner  of  firing 
them,  were  changed  since  the  beginning ;  the  general  principles 
alone  remained  unaltered.  The  system  latterly  adopted  was  as 
follows.     A  hole  4f  inches  in  diameter  was  made  to  a  depth  of 


CROSS   SECTION    OF    THE    ADVANCED   GALLERY. 


about  a  yard,  towards  the  centre  of  the  drift,  but  rather  nearer  to 
the  floor  than  to  the  roof.  Fifty  to  sixty  holes,  according  to 
circumstances,  of  less  diameter,  but  of  about  equal  depth,  were 
then  driven  into  the  remainder  of  the  face.  All  the  holes  were 
then  dried  and  cleaned  by  jets  of  compressed  air,  the  "aflut"  was 
withdrawn  behind  strong  iron-bound  doors,  and  six  of  the  small 
holes  nearest  to  the  large  one  were  charged  and  tired.     The  force 

1  In  1863,   on  the  French  side,  in  order  to  advance  one  metre,  103  hob 
inches  deep,   were   bored  ;    125J  lbs.   of   powder  and  200  metres  of  match    were 
consumed  ;  and  158  drills  were  used  up. 


64 


>'/;. i. 1/ /;/./•>•  AMUXCST  Till-:  .!/./'>•. 


.  II  IP.  III. 


cf  the  explosion  wi-iit   iii  the  direction  of  least   resistance,  which 

•  wauls  the  central  hole,  and  a  breach  was  made  such  as  is 
indicated  in  the  longitudinal  section,  given  below,  by  the  thick 
dotted  line.  The  remaining  holes  were  then  charged  and  fired  in 
sets  of  six  or  eight  at  a  time,  those  nearest  to  the  breach  being 
exploded  first.  This  system  was  found  more  economical  than 
firing  a  large  number  of  shots  at  one  time.  The  waggons  were 
then  advanced,  and  the  debris  was  cleared  away;  the  two  pairs  of 
rails  at  the  sides,  shown  in  the 
cross  section,  were  for  waggonets, 
whose  contents  were  afterwards 
transferred  to  large  waggons.  The 
"affut"  was  then  again  advanced. 
These  operations  were  repeated 
with  unvarying  regularity  twice 
every  day. 

The  temperature  at  the  work- 
ing face  of  the  advanced  gallery 
was  seldom  higher  than  from  75° 
to  76°,  and  the  atmosphere  was  as 
pure  as  could  be  desired,  when  the 
machines  were  at  work.1  This,  not- 
withstanding the  presence  of  more 
than  thirty  men,2  and  almost  as 
many  lamps,  in  a  space  about  nine 
feet  wide,  eight  high,  and  fifty  long.  The  comparative  lowness  of 
the  temperature  was  of  course  due  to  the  expansion  of  the  com- 
pressed air. 

At  the  distance  of  a  hundred  and  sixty  paces,  the  sound  of 
the   machines   could   not   be   distinguished,  and   the  atmosphere 

1  The  temperature  was  raised  to  80°  or  86°  after  the  mines  WWW  exploded. 

*  1  chef ;  4  machinists  :  2  master  miners,  who  determined  the  direction  of  the 
holes;  8  labourers,  who  guided  the  boring-rods;  9  workmen,  who  looked  after  the 
pcrforatriccs  ;  5  lwys  ;  8  labourers  ;  8  workmen,  who  kept  up  communication  with 
the  exterior, — in  all,  39  persons. 


LONGITUDINAL   SECTION    OF   THE   END  OF 
THE   ADVANCED  GALLERY. 


I  map.  in.  ACCIDENTS  DURING  CONSTRUCTION.  65 

again  gradually  deteriorated  as  we  returned  to  the  region  whirl) 
might,  not  improperly,  be  termed  infernal.  Once  more  we  passed 
through  the  foul  vapours  and  the  army  of  miners,  engaged  on  the 
work  of  enlargement.  Laborious  as  the  work  of  these  men  un- 
doubtedly was,  it  was  lighter  and  far  less  dangerous  than  that  of 
our  coal-cutters.  The  heat,  although  it  seemed  considerable  to 
one  coming  from  a  lower  temperature,  was  not  excessive.  The 
miners  worked  readily  enough  for  their  three  francs  a-day,1  and 
took  to  their  labours  cheerfully ;  very  few  skulkers  were  seen  in 
the  Mont  Cenis  tunnel.  The  following  table  shows  how  small 
was  the  risk  to  life. 

Fatal  Accidents  which  occurred  at  the  Great  Tunnel  op  the  Alps  from 
the  commencement  of  the  works  to  Sept.  1871  (French  side  only) : — 


Inside  the  Tunnel. 

Outside  the  Tunnel. 

From  falls  of  rock  .     .     . 

8 

Falls  from  heights  . 

2 

Accidents  from  waggons   . 

14 

From  falls  of  rock  . 

4 

Premature  explosions  . 

3—25 
Total     . 

Explosion  of  gunpowder  . 
36 

5- 

-11 

Nearly  one-half  of  the  fatal  accidents  arose  from  men  being  run 
over  by  waggons.  This  chiefly  came  from  the  impossibility  of 
making  the  miners  walk  on  the  footways  at  the  sides  of  the 
tunnel.  They  would  walk  on  the  rails.  The  result  was  that  they 
were  not  unfrequently  killed,  although  the  greatest  precautions 
were  taken  with  the  waggons  descending  with  debris.  The  total 
is  insignificant  when  one  considers  the  number  of  men  engaged 
and  the  length  of  time  over  which  it  was  spread,  and  it  compares 
favourably  with  almost  any  other  enterprise  of  similar  magnitude. 
The  waggons  laden  with  debris  ran  down,  on  the  French  side, 
by  their  own  weight,  on  account  of  the  gradient,  and  so  did  the 
truck  on  which  I  descended  with  my  guide — the  courteous 
engineer  who  directed  the  works.  Fresh  relays  of  miners  were 
entering,  and  those  whom  they  relieved  wen  coming  out  with 

1  The  workmen  in  the  advanced  gallery  received  five  francs  a-day,  and  a  small 
bonus  i»er  metre  if  they  exceeded  a  certain  tixed  distance. 

K 


SCliAMIU.KS   AM".\<;ST   THE   A  LIS. 


their  arms  around  each  others'  waists  "in  the  manner  of  school- 

.ml  lovers."    The  air  Beamed  chilly,  although  it  was  a  bright 

summer  day;  and  our  nostrils,  for  hours  after  Leaving  the  tunnel, 

yielded  such  supplies  of  carhon  as  to  suggest  that  the  manufacture 
Of  compressed  soot  might  have  Keen  profitably  added  t<>  the 
already   numerous  industries  of  the  works. 

In  18G9  about  four  thousand  men  were  employed  OS  the 
tunnel,1  and  they  completed  ten  to  eleven  feet  every  day.  The 
average  daily  progress  of  the  preceding  five  years  was  ten  feet 
one  inch.     Each  yard  of  progress  cost  latterly  about    £200.     The 


1  On  the 

French  side  they  were  employed 

is  follows  (subdivisions  are  omi 

tor  the  sake 

of  brevity) : — 

(1.) 

In  the  advanced  gallery — 

'  Ajusteurs '         .         .         . 

13 

Miners        .... 

14 

Labourers  .... 

140 

Boys            .... 

13 

180 

(2.)  Enlargement  by  manual  labour — 

Miners         .... 

510 

Labourers    .... 

180 

I'.nVS                   .... 

30 

720 

Masonry — 

Masons  and  dressers  of  stone 

58 

Labourers   .... 

170 

Boya          .... 

52 

■J  Ml 

(3.) 

Manufactories,  machinery,  stores 

(exterior  works) — 

Smiths,  joiners,  titters,  etc. 

120 

Lahourei-s   .... 

440 

Boya 

10 

570 

(4.) 

Overseers,  foremen,  clerks,  etc. 

60 

(5.)  Platelayers,  transport  of  materials 

,  etc. 

180 

Total 

1990 

Bone  power  of  macbinen — 

Hydraulic  wheels 

480 

Ventilating  machines 

300 

Sumlry                 .         .         •/ 

80 

Total  horee-|K)wcr  of  machinery  860 

Horses  employed  in  clearing  away  debris  80 


.-hap.  in.  THE  STRATA    1'IKUCKlK  67 

total  expenditure  amounted  to  about  £.'i,000,000  (£224  per  yard). 
This  sum,  however,  included  the  expense  of  the  whole  of  the 
machinery  and  of  the  exterior  works.  The  amount  does  not  seem 
extravagant  when  we  remember  that  for  every  yard  of  <nlnin<<. 
never  less — and  frequently  more — than  seventy  cubic  yards  of  rock 
had  to  be  excavated,  and  to  be  carried  away  (when  the  work  was 
approaching  completion)  a  distance  of  three  miles;  that  about 
twenty-five  cubic  yards  of  masonry  had  to  be  built,  the  stone  for 
which  was  conveyed  twelve  miles  in  a  mountainous  country ;  that 
all  the  machinery  employed  was  constructed  and  invented  ex- 
pressly for  the  tunnel,  and  that  the  creation  of  two  small  towns 
was  necessary. 

The  strata  which  were  pierced  agreed  very  satisfactorily  in 
their  nature  and  in  their  thickness  with  the  indications  of  the 
geologists.1  Remarkably  little  water  was  met  with :  the  miner's 
dreaded  enemy  seemed  to  fly  before  the  engineer  who  utilised  its 
power.  I  have  not  entered  into  a  description  of  the  manner  in 
which  this  was  accomplished,  because  it  has  been  frequently  done 
by  others ;  but  there  was  nothing  more  interesting  in  regard  to 
the  tunnel  than  the  way  in  which  the  waste  powers  of  nature 
were  applied  for  the  reduction  of  the  difficulties  of  the  under- 

1  Table  of  the  Strata,  commencing  from  the  French  Side. 


Thickness  of  tin- 

Metres. 

Metros. 

Strata  in  Mitn> 

1. 

Debris    . 

from          0              to          128 

128-00 

2. 

Anthracitic  schists 

128-00 

2095-35 

1967-35 

3. 

Quartzite 

2095-35 

2476-75 

381-40 

4. 

Anhydrite     . 

2476-75 

2696-90 

220- 15 

5. 

Compact  calcareous  rock 

2696-90 

2730-90 

34-00 

6. 

Talcose  schists 

2730-90 

2780-20 

49-30 

7. 

Compact  calcareous  rock 

2780-20 

2802-02 

21-82 

8. 

Anhydrite     . 

2802-02 

2831-75 

88*78 

9. 

Calcareous  schists 

2831-75 

2852-95 

21  -20 

10. 

Anhydrite     . 

2852-95 

2867-16 

14-20 

11. 

Calcareous  schists 

2867-15 

3264  00 

888-80 

12. 

Anhydrite     . 

3264-00 

8884*48 

70.48 

18. 

Calcareous  schists 

3334  IT. 

,      12,233-55 

8899-10 

i\< 


Si  'ii.  I  Mm  i:s  .  I  M0NG8T  Til  /•:  A  LPS. 


OH  M'.  III. 


taking.  There  was  not  a  single  steam -engine  on  the  works: 
-  \-i \ tiling  was  done  with  compressed  air.  or  by  hydraulic  power. 

Just  one  half  of  the  tunnel  was  driven  at  the  end  of  October 
1866,  after  more  than  nine  years  of  labour.  The  third  quarter 
was  finished  by  the  end  of  1868,  and  upon  the  26th  December 
1870  the  junction  of  the  advanced  galleries  was  successfully 
effected.  The  engineers  shook  hands  through  a  hole  made  in  the 
centre  of  the  drifts,  and  then  blew  away  the  narrow  wall  which 
separated  France  from  Italy.1 

Four  weeks  before  this  took  place,  the  men  who  were  employed 
in  the  advanced  gallery  on  the  French  side  heard  distant  rumbling 
sounds,  and  leaving  off  work,  could  distinctly  hear  their  comrades 
firing  blasts  in  the  other  gallery.  At  this  time  the  two  parties 
were  about  400  feet  distant  from  each  other.      As  the  interval 


1  Table  showing  the  Annual  Pkooress  of  the  Advanced  ( :.\i  i.iuy 

ON    EACH   SIDE. 


BARDONNftl  III  . 

M.ODANK. 

Total  of 
the  two 
sidea  ]n-r 
annum. 

General 

Total. 

Year. 

Advance 
in  metreti 

Total. 

Advance 

in  inrtri's 

Total. 

manual 
labour 

By 
mechanical  • 
means. 

1857 
1858 
1859 
1860 
1861 
1862 

(1861 
1862 
1863 
1864 
1865 
1866 
1867 
1868 
lxt>9 

.1870 

27-28^ 
257-57 
236-35 
203-80 

170-00' 
380-00 
426-00 
621-20 
765-30 
812-70 
824-30 
688*60 

889-45, 

■  725-00 

■  6355-25 

10-80^ 
201-95 
132-75 
139-50 
193-00 
243-00. 
> 
>)    >) 

376-00 
466-65 
458-40 
212*29 

687-81 
881-56 

603-75 

7I5-.S". 

•       921-00 
►    4232-30 

ss-os' 

459-52 

362-10 

343-30 

193-00 

248*00 

170-00< 

380-00 

802-00 

1087*86 

1228*70 

1024-99 

1612*11 

1820*16 

1481*46 

1646*00 

10,587-55 

T 

rial  advance  al  \ 
Bafdonnftehfl    j    /08°-25 

Total  ad-  \ 

ranoe  at      6158*80 

HodaxA  j 

Total     ^ 

length  of]  12, 
tunnel  J 

cha  v.  1 1 1 .  THE  IN  A  UG  URA  TION.  G9 

which  separated  them  lessened,  so  the  excitement  of  the  engineeri 
became  more  and  more  intense.  What  if  the  two  ends  should  not 
meet!  At  last  the  calculated  length  of  the  tunnel  (12,220  metres) 
was  excavated,  but  still  the  galleries  did  not  meet!  The  two 
parties  knew  from  the  sounds  of  the  shots  that  they  were  very 
close  to  each  other,  and  they  proceeded  with  the  utmost  caution. 
Several  trying  days  of  suspense  passed  before  the  happy  moment 
arrived,  and  then  it  was  discovered  that  there  was  an  error  of  44£ 
feet  in  the  calculated  length.  This  did  not,  however,  cause  any 
inconvenience.  The  work  was  pressed  forward  with  increased 
assiduity,  and  on  the  1st  of  September  1871  the  masonry  was 
completed,  the  rails  were  laid,  and  the  tunnel  was  ready  for  use. 
It  was  formally  opened  on  17th  September.  The  inaugural  train 
of  twenty  carriages,  drawn  by  two  of  the  largest  and  most  power- 
ful locomotives  ever  built,  conveying  500  gentlemen,  who  had 
assembled  together  by  invitation  from  all  parts  of  Europe,  left 
Turin  at  6.30  A.M.,  and  after  a  run  of  three  hours  and  three- 
quarters  arrived  at  Bardonneche.  A  brief  halt  was  made  here, 
and  then  the  train  proceeded  through  the  tunnel  to  Fourneaux 
(Modane).  The  passage  through  occupied  twenty -two  minutes. 
At  Modane,  a  number  of  distinguished  persons  entered  the  train, 
whose  length  became  increased  to  twenty -four  carriages.  This 
monster  train  started  from  Fourneaux  to  return  to  Bardonneche 
at  12.30  p.m.,  drawn  by  two  locomotives,  and  pushed  behind  by  a 
third  one.  The  return  passage  of  the  tunnel  occupied  forty-two 
minutes.  At  Bardonneche  a  sumptuous  banquet  was  given,  to 
which  about  700  persons  sat  down ;  and,  after  it  was  over,  the 
company  returned  to  Turin. 

From  the  first,  very  little  inconvenience  was  experienced  from 
the  imperfect  ventilation  of  the  tunnel,  and  the  temperature  at  its 
centre  was  by  no  means  oppressive.  In  the  shade  at  BardoniKVhc, 
before  the  first  run  through  was  made,  the  thermometer  registered 
69°  Fahr.  The  maximum  heat  in  my  carriage  when  passing 
through  was  78°,  and  a  quick-acting  mercurial  maximum  thermo- 


70  80RAMBLS8  AMONGST  rill-:  ALPS.  OHAP.nx 

meter,  which  I  fixed  on  the  outside  of  the  earring',  registered  only 
77°*1.  The  steep  gradient « n i  tin-  Kronen  aide  reduced  the  pace  of 
the  train  00  the  return  journey,  and  the  thermometer  outside  the 
carriage  registered  82°.  Inside,  however,  78°  was,  as  before,  the 
maximum  heat. 

It  is  difficult  to  apportion  the  credit  of  bringing  this  great 
work  to  a  successful  end  amongst  those  who  were  engaged  upon 
it.      From  the  eonnneneement  to   the   termination   Grattoni  and 


CBKM  AI  N    BOM  M  El  l.I.KK. 


Sommeiller  were  at  the  head  of  the  enterprise,  and  upon  them  its 
chief  responsibilities  rested.  They  designed  (sometimes  separately, 
but  more  usually  jointly)  the  whole  of  the  machinery  thai  was 
employed,  and  they  gained  the  chief  rewards.  Grattoni  lived  to 
receive  the  highest  honours.  His  friend  and  coadjutor  Germain 
Sommeiller,  exhausted  by  work,  retired  to  his  birth-place,  St. 
Jeoire  en  I'aucigny,  to  obtain  a  little  rest.  It  was  taken  too  late; 
he  succumbed  to  his  labours,  and  died  at  the  comparatively  early 
age  of  fifty-six  years,  on  the  11th  of  July  1871.  "If  we  may 
believe  the  companions  of  his  youth,"  said  M.  Conte,  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  pamphlet  from  which  I  have  already  quoted. 
Sommeiller  cherished   the  idea,   which   we   now   realise,  at  the 


0ttAF.nL     PRESENT  TEMPERATURE  OF  THE  TUNNEL.  71 

time  he  was  studying  at  the  University  of  Turin.  This  idea  he 
never  abandoned."  Englishmen  ought  to  be  amongst  the  first  to 
recognise  his  boldness  and  perseverance,  although  they  played  no 
part  in  the  execution  of  the  tunnel.  It  is  the  grandest  conception 
of  its  kind;  it  must  always  be  one  of  the  highways  of  Europe; 
and  it  has  become  an  important  portion  of  the  high  road  to 
India. 

Note  upon  the  present  Temperature  of  the  Mont  Cenis  Tunnel. 

The  loiccst  temperature  observed  at  the  centre  of  the  Tunnel  in  1892  was  62° '6 
Fahr.,  on  February  15,  at  1  p.m.  At  the  same  time,  the  temi)erature  at  the 
North  (or  Modane)  mouth  was  23°  Fahr.,  and  at  the  South  (or  Bardonneche)  mouth 
it  was  35° -6  Fahr. 

The  higlicst  temperature  observed  at  the  centre  of  the  Tunnel  in  1892  was  73°*4 
Fahr.,  on  October  15,  at  1  p.m.  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  temperature  at  the 
North  mouth  was  50°,  and  at  the  South  mouth  was  53° -6  Fahr. 

This  information  was  supplied  by  Signor  F.  Cornetti  (Strade  Ferrate  del 
Mediterraneo),  who  says  that  there  is  no  sensible  variation  in  temperature  at  the 
centre  of  the  tunnel  in  any  twenty-four  hours,  whatever  fluctuations  may  occur  at 
the  mouths.  Thus,  on  the  15th  December  1892,  temperature  at  the  Bardonneche 
mouth  ranged  from  26° "6  to  44°  *6  Fahr.,  and  at  the  Modane  mouth  from  24°  #8  to 
26° *6  Fahr.,  yet  in  the  centre  of  the  tunnel  it  remained  constant  at  64° *4  Fahr. 

It  would  appear  that  the  rock  at  the  centre  has  cooled  very  considerably  in  the 
twenty-one  years  which  have  elapsed  since  the  opening  of  the  tunnel. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

MY    tiaSI   BCBAMBLB  ON  THE   MATTKl;lloi;\. 

•What  power  must  have  been  raqtrfred  to  shatter  and  to  sweep  away  the 
ini»ing  parts  of  this  pyramid  ;  for  we  do  not  see  it  surrounded  by  hea.pi  of  frag- 
ments ;  one  only  sees  other  jteaks — themselves  rooted  to  the  ground — whose 
equally  rent,  indicate  an  immense  mass  of  dt-bris,  of  which  we  do  not  tee  ;my  trace 
in  the  neighbourhood.  Doubtless  this  is  that  debris  which,  in  the  form  of  pebblea, 
boidders,  and  sand,  fills  our  valleys  and  our  plains."  Id;  Su-m  i;i. 

Two  summits  amongst  those  in  the  Alps  which  yet  remained 
virgin  had  excited  my  admiration.  One  of  these  had  been 
attacked  numerous  times  by  good  mountaineers  without  success ; 
the  other,  surrounded  by  traditional  inaccessibility,  was  almost 
untouched.  These  mountains  were  the  Weisshorn  and  the 
Matterhorn. 

After  visiting  the  great  tunnel  of  the  Alps  in  1861,  I  wandered 
for  ten  days  in  the  neighbouring  valleys,  intending,  presently,  to 
attempt  the  ascent  of  these  two  peaks.  Rumours  were  floating 
about  that  the  former  had  been  conquered,  and  that  the  latter  \v;is 
shortly  to  be  assailed,  and  they  were  confirmed  upon  arrival  at 
(hatillon,  at  the  entrance  of  the  Val  Tournanche.  My  interest  in 
the  Weisshorn  abated,  but  it  was  raised  to  the  highest  pitch  on 
hearing  that  Professor  Tyndall  was  at  Breuil,  and  intending  to  try 
to  crown  his  first  victory  by  another  and  still  greater  one. 

Up  to  this  time  my  experience  with  guides  had  not  been 
fortunate,  and  I  was  inclined,  improperly,  to  rate  them  at  a  low 
value.  They  represented  to  me  pointers  out  of  paths,  and  large 
consumers  of  meat  and  drink,  but  little  more ;  and,  with  the  recol- 
lection of  Mont  Pelvoux,  I  should  have  greatly  preferred  the 
company  of  a  couple  of  my  countrymen  to  any  Dumber  of  -aides. 
In  answer  to  inquiries  at  Chatillon,  a  series  of  men  came  forward 


eii.w.  iv.  THE  MATTERHORN.  7:5 

whose  faces  expressed  malice,  pride,  envy,  hatred,  and  roguery  of 

every  description,  but  who  seemed  to  he  destitute  of  all  good 
qualities.  The  arrival  of  two  gentlemen  with  a  guide,  who  they 
represented  was  the  embodiment  of  every  virtue,  and  exactly  the 
man  for  the  Matterhorn,  rendered  it  unnecessary  to  engage  any  of 
the  others.  He  was  a  man  of  large  proportions  ;  and,  although  in 
acquiring  him  I  did  not  obtain  exactly  what  was  wanted,  his  late 
employers  did  exactly  what  they  wanted,  for  I  incurred  the  re- 
sponsibility, without  being  aware  of  it,  of  paying  his  back  fare, 
which  must  have  been  a  relief  at  once  to  their  minds  and  to 
their  purses. 

When  walking  up  towards  Breuil,1  we  inquired  for  another 
man  of  all  the  knowing  ones,  and  they,  with  one  voice,  proclaimed 
that  Jean-Antoine  Carrel,  of  the  village  of  Val  Tournanche,  was 
the  cock  of  his  valley.  We  sought,  of  course,  for  Carrel ;  and 
found  him  a  well-made,  resolute-looking  fellow,  with  a  certain 
defiant  air  which  was  rather  taking.  Yes,  he  would  go.  Twenty 
francs  a-day,  whatever  was  the  result,  was  his  price.  I  assented. 
But  I  must  take  his  comrade.  "  Why  so  ? "  Oh,  it  was  impossible 
to  get  along  without  another  man.  As  he  said  this  an  evil  counte- 
nance came  forth  out  of  the  darkness  and  proclaimed  itself  the 
comrade.  I  demurred,  the  negotiations  broke  off,  and  we  went  up 
to  Breuil.  This  place  will  be  frequently  mentioned  in  subsequent 
chapters,  and  was  in  full  view  of  the  extraordinary  peak,  the 
ascent  of  which  we  were  about  to  attempt 

It  is  unnecessary  to  enter  into  a  minute  description  of  the 
Matterhorn,  after  all  that  has  been  written  about  that  famous 
mountain.  Those  by  whom  this  book  is  likely  to  be  read  will 
know  that  the  summit  of  the  peak  is  nearly  15,000  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea,  and  that  it  rises  abruptly,  by  a  series  of  cliffs 
which  may  properly  be  termed  precipices,  a  clear  5000  feet  above 
the  glaciers  which  surround  its  base.  They  will  know  too  that  it 
was  the  last  great  Alpine  peak  which  remained  unsealed, — less  on 

1  Sometimes  spelt  Breil. 
1. 


7i  8CBAMBLB8  AMONGST  Till-;  ALPS.  ohap.it. 

account  of  the  difficulty  of  doing  so,  than  from  the  terror  inspired 
by  its  invincible  appearance.  There  seemed  to  be  a  cordon  drawn 
around  it.  up  to  which  one  might  gp,  bat  no  farther.  Within  that 
invisible  one  gins  and  directs  were  supposed  to  exist — -the 
Wandering  Jew  and  the  spirits  of  the  damned.  The  superstitious 
native-  in  the  surrounding  valleys  (many  of  whom  firmly  believed 
it  to  be  not  only  the  highest  mountain  in  the  Alps,  but  in  the 
world)  spoke  of  a  ruined  city  on  its  summit  wherein  the  spirits 
dwelt;  and  if  you  laughed,  they  gravely  shook  their  heads;  told 
you  to  look  yourself  to  see  the  castles  and  the  walls,  and  warned 
one  against  a  rash  approach,  lest  the  infuriate  demons  from  their 
impregnable  heights  might  hurl  down  vengeance  for  one's  derision 
Such  were  the  traditions  of  the  natives.  Stronger  minds  felt  the 
influence  of  the  wonderful  form,  and  men  who  ordinarily  spoke 
or  wrote  like  rational  beings,  when  they  came  under  its  power 
seemed  to  quit  their  senses,  and  ranted,  and  rhapsodised,  Losing  for 
a  time  all  common  forms  of  speech.  Even  the  sober  De  Saussure 
was  moved  to  enthusiasm  when  he  saw  the  mountain,  and — 
inspired  by  the  spectacle — he  anticipated  the  speculations  of  later 
geologists,  in  the  striking  sentences  which  are  placed  at  the  head 
of  this  chapter. 

The  Matterhorn  looks  equally  imposing  from  whatever  side  it 
is  seen.  It  never  seems  commonplace;  and  in  this  respect,  and  in 
regard  to  the  impression  it  makes  upon  spectators,  it  stands  almost 
alone  amongst  mountains.  It  has  no  rivals  in  the  Alps,  and  but 
lew  in  the  world. 

The  seven  or  eight  thousand  feet  which  compose  the  actual 
peak  have  several  well-marked  ridges  and  numerous  others.1  The 
most  continuous  is  that  which  leads  towards  tin-  north-east:  the 
summit  is  at  its  higher,  and  the  little  peak,  called  llornli, 
it-  lower  end.  Another  one  that  is  well  pronounced  descends  from 
the  summit  to  the  ridge  cal Km  1  the  Furggen  Qrat  The  slope  of 
the  mountain  that  is  between  these  two  ridges  will  be  referred  to 

1  Sm   tin.-   Man  of  llif   Matte  Thorn  and   its  Glaciers. 


SI   MM  IT  (14710) 


SOUTH  EAST  UllHiB 


MRECTIOS  Of 
TUB  rill-TT  I.I.A.*  IKK 


THE  MATTERHORN  FRQ-M  THE  NORTH-EAST. 


SUMMIT  (U7S0) 


SOUTH-WEST  RIDGE 


NORTH  EAST  RIDUB 


SHOULDER  (L'El'AL'LE) 


TBTE  DC  LIO.V 


TYNDALL    JULY    28,    1862 


WHYY.PER,    JULY    26,    1862 
WrtYMKR,    JULY    19,    1862 


TYNDALL,    Aua    BO,    18^0 
MAOOONALO    &    WHYMPCR,    JULY   8,   1862 


WHVMPER,    AUO     30.     1861 
9*"«   KCOHD  TINT  PLATFORM 


TIIR  DKNT  ni.ANCHK 


THE  MATTERHORN  FROM  THE  SUMMIT  OF  THE  THEOOULE  PASS. 


chap.  iv.  RIDGES  OF  THE  MATTE RHORN.  76 

as  the  eastern  face.  A  third,  somewhat  less  continuous  than  the 
others,  descends  in  a  south-westerly  direction,  and  the  portion  of 
the  mountain  that  is  seen  from  Breuil  is  confined  to  that  which  is 
comprised  between  this  and  the  second  ridge.  This  section  is  not 
composed,  like  that  between  the  first  and  second  ridge,  of  one 
grand  face ;  but  it  is  broken  up  into  a  series  of  huge  preci- 
pices, spotted  with  snow-slopes,  and  streaked  with  snow-gullies. 
The  other  half  of  the  mountain,  facing  the  Z'Mutt  Glacier,  is 
not  capable  of  equally  simple  definition.  There  are  precipices, 
apparent,  but  not  actual ;  there  are  precipices  absolutely  per- 
pendicular ;  there  are  precipices  overhanging ;  there  are  glaciers, 
and  there  are  hanging, glaciers;  there  are  glaciers  which  tumble 
great  siracs  over  greater  cliffs,  whose  ddbris,  subsequently  con- 
solidated, becomes  glacier  again ;  there  are  ridges  split  by  the 
frost,  and  washed  by  the  rain  and  melted  snow  into  towers  and 
spires:  while,  everywhere,  there  are  ceaseless  sounds  of  action, 
telling  that  the  causes  are  still  in  operation  which  have  been  at 
work  since  the  world  began ;  reducing  the  mighty  mass  to  atoms, 
and  effecting  its  degradation. 

Most  tourists  obtain  their  first  view  of  the  mountain  either 
from  the  valley  of  Zermatt  or  from  that  of  Tournanche.  From 
the  former  direction  the  base  of  the  mountain  is  seen  at  its 
narrowest,  and  its  ridges  and  faces  seem  to  be  of  prodigious  steep- 
ness. The  tourist  toils  up  the  valley,  looking  frequently  for  the 
great  sight  which  is  to  reward  his  pains,  without  seeing  it  (for 
the  mountain  is  first  perceived  in  that  direction  about  a  mile 
to  the  north  of  Zermatt),  when,  all  at  once,  as  he  turns  a  rocky 
corner  of  the  path,  it  comes  into  view ;  not,  however,  where  it  is 
expected;  the  face  has  to  be  raised  up  to  look  at  it — it  seems 
overhead.  Although  this  is  the  impression,  the  fact  is  that  the 
summit  of  the  Matterhorn  from  this  point  makes  an  angle  with 
the  eye  of  less  than  16°,  while  the  Dom,  from  the  same  place, 
makes  a  larger  angle,  but  is  passed  by  unobserved.  So  little 
can  dependence  be  placed  on  unaided  vision. 


7<;  Sr/;.|.U/.7./;s  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  uiaimv. 

The  view  of  the  mountain  from  Biextil,  in  the  Val  Tournanche, 

is  scarcely  less  striking  than  that  on  the  other  side  ;  but,  usually, 
it  makes,  less  impression,  because  the  spectator  has  grown 
accustomed  to  the  sight  while  coming  up  the  valley.  From  this 
direction  the  mountain  is  seen  to  be  broken  up  into  B  series  of 
l»\  raiiiiilal  wedge-shaped  masses.  On  the  other  side  it  is  remark- 
able for  the  large,  unbroken  extent  of  cliffs  that  it  presents,  and 
for  the  simplicity  of  its  outline.  It  was  natural  to  suppose  that  a 
way  would  more  readily  be  found  to  the  summit  on  a  side  thus 
broken  up  than  in  any  other  direction.  The  eastern  face,  fronting 
Zermatt,  seemed  one  smooth,  inaccessible  cliff,  from  summit  to 
base.  The  ghastly  precipices  which  face  the  Z'Mutt  Glacier 
forbade  any  attempt  in  tliat  direction.  There  remained  only  the 
side  of  Val  Tournanche;  and  it  will  be  found  that  nearly  all  the 
earliest  attempts  to  ascend  the  mountain  were  made  upon  that  side. 

The  first  efforts  to  ascend  the  Matterhorn  of  which  I  have 
heard,  were  made  by  the  guides,  or  rather  by  the  chasseurs,  of 
Val  Tournanche.1  These  attempts  were  made  in  the  years  1858-9, 
from  the  direction  of  Breuil,  and  the  highest  point  that  was 
attained  was  about  as  far  as  the  place  which  is  now  called  the 
"Chimney"  (cheminee),  a  height  of  about  12,650  feet.  Those 
who  were  concerned  in  these  expeditions  were  Jean-Antoine 
(  ai -rel,  Jean  Jacques  Carrel,  Victor  Carrel,  the  Abbe*  Gorret,  and 
QabrieDe  Maquignaz.  I  have  been  unable  to  obtain  any  furthei 
details  respecting  them. 

The  next  attempt  was  a  remarkable  one ;  and  of  it,  too,  there 
is  no  published  account.  It  was  made  by  the  Messrs.  Allied. 
<  hailes,  and  Sandbach  Parker,  of  Liverpool,  in  July  1800.  These 
gentlemen,  without  guides,  endeavoured  to  storm  the  citadel  by 
attacking  its  eastern  face2 — that  to  which  reference  was  just  now 
made  as  a  smooth,  impracticable  oliffi    Mr.   Sandbach    Parker 

1  There  were  no  guides,  prfunrri J  tTffinhing,  in  this  valley  at  tli.it  time,  with  the 
•keeption  of  one  or  two  Peariom  ami  PeliMfen. 

-  This  bee  ii  <>n  the  right  hand  <>r  the  large  engraving  lacing  this  page.     It  b 
anted,  more  prominently,  in  tin-  plate  of  the  Matterhorn  from  the  Etiflelberg. 


ciiAi-.  iv.     FIRST  ATTEMPTS  TO  ASCEND  THE  MATTERHORN.      77 

informs  me  that  he  and  his  hrothers  went  along  the  ridge  between 
the  Hornli  and  the  peak  until  they  came  to  the  point  where  the 
ascending  angle  is  considerably  increased.  This  place  is  ma  iked 
on  I)ufour'8  map  of  Switzerland  3298  metres  (10,820  feet).  They 
were  then  obliged  to  bear  a  little  to  the  left  to  get  on  to  the 
face  of  the  mountain,  and,  afterwards,  they  turned  to  the  right, 
and  ascended  about  700  feet  farther,  keeping  as  nearly  as  was 
practicable  to  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  but,  occasionally,  bearing  a 
little  to  the  left — that  is,  more  on  to  the  face  of  the  mountain. 
The  brothers  started  from  Zermatt,  and  did  not  sleep  out. 
Clouds,  a  high  wind,  and  want  of  time,  were  the  causes  which 
prevented  these  daring  gentlemen  from  going  farther.  Thus,  their 
highest  point  was  under  12,000  feet. 

The  third  attempt  to  ascend  the  mountain  was  made  towards 
the  end  of  August  1860,  by  Mr.  Vaughan  Hawkins,1  from  the  side 
of  the  Val  Tournanche.  A  vivid  account  of  his  expedition  has 
been  published  by  him  in  Vacation  Tourists;2  and  it  has  been 
referred  to  several  times  by  Professor  Tyndall  in  the  numerous 
papers  he  has  contributed  to  Alpine  literature.  I  will  dismiss  it, 
therefore,  as  briefly  as  possible. 

Mr.  Hawkins  had  inspected  the  Matterhorn  in  1859,  with  the 
guide  J.  J.  Bennen,  and  had  formed  the  opinion  that  the  south- 
west ridge 3  would  lead  to  the  summit.  He  engaged  J.  Jacques 
Carrel,  who  was  concerned  in  the  first  attempts,  and,  accompanied 
by  Bennen  (and  by  Professor  Tyndall,  whom  he  had  invited  to 
take  part  in  the  expedition),  he  started  for  the  gap  between  the 
little  and  the  great  peak.4 

1  Mr.  Hawkins  was  unaware  that  any  attempts  had  heen  made  before  his  own, 
and  spoke  of  it  as  the  first.  a  Maemiilan,  1861. 

3  This  ridge  is  seen  on  the  left  of  the  large  engraving  aceoni]«mying  this 
chapter;  and  if  the  reader  consults  tliis  view,  tho  explanatory  outlines,  and  the 
maps,  he  will  be  able  to  form  a  fair  idea  of  the  points  which  were  attained  on  this 
ami  upon  the  subsequent  attempts. 

'  Since  this  time  the  small  peak  has  received  the  mime  Tete  dn  Lion.  The  gap 
is  now  called  the  Col  du  Lion  ;  the  glacier  at  its  base,  the  <!  lacier  du  Lion  :  and  the 
gully  which  connects  the  Col  with  the  glacier,   the  Couloir  du  Lion. 


78 


*'KAMBLE8  AMONGST  THE  ALPS. 


CHAP.  IV. 


Iiennen  was  a  guide  who  was  beginning  to  be  talked  about 
During  the  chief  part  of  his  brief  career  lie  was  in  the  service  of 
Wellig,  then  landlord  of  the  inn  on  the  Kggischhorn,  and  was 
hired  out  by  him  to  tourists.  Although  his  experience  was 
limited,  he  had  acquired  a  good  reputation :  and  his  book  of 
certificates,  which  is  lying  before  me,1  shows  that  he  was  highly 
esteemed  by  his  employers.     A  good-looking  man,  with  courteous, 


J.    J.    IIKNNEN    (  1862). 

gentlemanly  manners,  skilful  and  bold,  he  might  have  taken  a 
front  place  amongst  guides  if  he  had  only  been  endowed  with 
more  prudence.  He  perished  miserably,  in  the  spring  of  18G4, 
not  far  from  his  home,  on  a  mountain  called  the  Haut  de  Cry,  in 
the  Valais.2 

Mr.    Hawkins'    party,    led    by    Bennen,    climbed    the    rocks 

abutting   against   the    Couloir    du    Lion,  on    its   south  side,   and 

attained  the  Col  du  Lion,  although  not  without  difficulty.      Tiny 

then   followed  the  south-west  ridge,  passed  the  place  at  which  the 

1  By  the  kindness  of  its  owner,  Mr.  P.  Tookett  '  Sec  Appendix  A. 


CAaf.it.  Mli.  HAWKINS' ATTEMPT  IN  1800  79 

earliest  explorers  had  turned  back  (the  Chimney),1  and  ascended 

about  300  feet  more.  Mr.  Hawkins  and  J.  A.  Carrel  then  stopped, 
but  Bennen  and  Professor  Tyndall  mounted  a  few  feet  higher. 
They  retreated,  however,  in  less  than  half-an-hour,  finding  that 
there  was  too  little  time ;  and,  descending  to  the  Col  by  the  same 
route  as  they  had  followed  on  the  ascent,  proceeded  thence  to 
Breuil,  down  the  Couloir  instead  of  by  the  rocks.  The  point  at 
wlrich  Mr.  Hawkins  stopped  is  easily  identified  from  his  descrip- 
tion. Its  height  is  12,992  feet  above  the  sea.  I  think  that 
Bennen  and  Tyndall  could  not  have  ascended  more  than  50  or  60 
feet  beyond  this  in  the  few  minutes  they  were  absent  from  the 
others,  as  they  were  upon  one  of  the  most  difficult  parts  of  the 
mountain.  This  party  therefore  accomplished  an  advance  of  about 
350  or  400  feet. 

Mr.  Hawkins  did  not,  so  far  as  I  know,  make  another  attempt ; 
and  the  next  was  made  by  the  Messrs.  Parker,  in  July  1861. 
They  again  started  from  Zermatt ;  followed  the  route  they  had 
struck  out  on  the  previous  year,  and  got  a  little  higher  than 
before ;  but  they  were  defeated  by  want  of  time,  shortly  after- 
wards left  Zermatt  on  account  of  bad  weather,  and  did  not  again 
renew  their  attempts.  Mr.  Parker  says — "  In  neither  case  did 
we  go  as  high  as  we  could.  At  the  point  where  we  turned  we 
saw  our  way  for  a  few  hundred  feet  farther ;  but,  beyond  that, 
the  difficulties  seemed  to  increase."  I  am  informed  that  both 
attempts  should  be  considered  as  excursions  undertaken  with  the 
view  of  ascertaining  whether  there  was  any  encouragement  to 
make  a  more  deliberate  attack  on  the  north-east  side. 

My  guide  and  I  arrived  at  Breuil  on  the  28th  of  August  1861, 
and  we  found  that  Professor  Tyndall  haul  been  there  a  day  or  two 
before,  but  had  done  nothing.  I  had  seen  the  mountain  from 
nearly  every  direction,  and  an  ascent  of  it  seemed,  even  to  a 
novice    like    myself,   far    too   much    for   twenty-four    hours.      1 

1  A  view  of  this  place  faces  p.  106. 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALI'S.  CHAP.  iv. 

intended  to  deep  out  upon  it,  as  high  as  possible,  and  to  attempt 
to  reach   the   summit  <>n    the   following  day.     We  endeavoured 

to  induce  another  man  to  accompany  us,  but  without  success. 
Matthias  nun  Taugwald  ami  other  well-known  guides  were  there 
at  the  time,  but  they  declined  to  go  on  any  account.  A  sturdy 
old  fellow — 1'eter  Taugwalder  by  name — said  he  would  go !  His 
price?  "Two  hundred  francs."  "What,  whether  we  ascend  or 
not?"  "Yes — nothing  less."  The  end  of  the  matter  was,  that 
all  the  men  who  were  more  or  less  capable  showed  a  strong  dis- 
inclination, or  positively  refused  to  go  (their  disinclination  being 
very  much  in  proportion  •  to  their  capacity),  or  else  asked  a  pro- 
hibitive price.  This,  it  may  be  said  once  for  all,  was  the  reason 
why  so  many  futile  attempts  were  made  upon  the  Matterhorn. 
One  first-rate  guide  after  another  was  brought  up  to  the 
mountain,  and  patted  on  the  back,  but  all  declined  the  business. 
The  men  who  went  had  no  heart  in  the  matter,  and  took  the  first 
opportunity  to  turn  back.1  For  they  were,  with  the  exception  of 
one  man,  to  whom  reference  will  be  made  presently,  universally 
impressed  with  the  belief  that  the  summit  was  entirely  inaccessible. 
We  resolved  to  go  alone,  and  anticipating  a  cold  bivouac, 
begged  the  loan  of  a  couple  of  blankets  from  the  innkeeper.  He 
refused  them;  giving  the  curious  reason,  that  we  had  bought  a 
bottle  of  brandy  at  Val  Toumanche,  and  had  not  bought  any  from 
hi  in  :  No  brandy,  no  blankets,  appeared  to  be  his  rule.  We  did 
not  require  them  that  night,  as  it  was  passed  in  the  highest  cow- 
shed in  the  valley,  which  is  about  an  hour  nearer  to  the  mountain 
than  is  the  hotel.  The  cowherds,  good  fellows,  seldom  troubled 
by  tourists,  hailed  our  company  with  delight,  and  did  their  best 
to  make  us  comfortable;  brought  out  their  little  stores  of  simple 
food,  and,  as  we  sat  with  them  round  the  great  copper  pot  which 
hung  over  the  fire,  bade  us  in  husky  voice,  though  with  honest 
intent,  to  beware  of  the  perils  of  the  haunted  cliffs.  When  night 
was  coining  on,  we  saw,  stealing  up  the.  hill-side,  the  forms  of  Jean- 

1  The  guide  lkunen  must  be  excepted. 


CUM1.    IV. 


JEAN-ANTOINE  CARREL. 


81 


Antoine  Carrel  and  the  comrade.  "  Oh  ho ! "  I  said,  "  you  have 
repented  ? "  "  Not  at  all ;  you  deceive  yourself."  "  Why  then 
have  you  come  here  ? "  "  Because  we  ourselves  are  going  on  the 
mountain  to-morrow."  "  Oh,  then  it  is  not  necessary  to  have  more 
than  three."  "Not  for  us."  I  admired  their  pluck,  and  had  a 
strong  inclination  to  engage  the  pair ;  but,  finally,  decided  against 
it.  The  comrade  turned  out  to  be  the  J.  J.  Carrel  who  had  been 
with  Mr.  Hawkins,  and  was  nearly  related  to  the  other  man. 


JEAN-ANTOINE   CAKREL   (1869). 

Both  were  bold  mountaineers ;  but  Jean-Antoine  was  incom- 
parably the  better  man  of  the  two,  and  was  the  finest  rock-climber 
I  have  ever  seen.  He  was  the  only  man  who  persistently  refused 
to  accept  defeat,  and  who  continued  to  believe,  in  spite  of  all  dis- 
couragements, that  the  great  mountain  was  not  inaccessible,  and 
that  it  could  be  ascended  from  the  side  of  his  native  valley. 

The  night  wore  away  without  any  excitement,  except  from 
some  fleas,  a  party  of  whom  executed  a  spirited  fandango  on  my 
cheek,  to  the  sound  of  music  produced  on  the  drum  of  my  ear,  by 
one  of  their  fellows  beating  with  a  wisp  of  hay.     The  two  Canvls 

M 


82  SCRAMBLES  AMOXGST  THE  ALPS.  char  iv. 

crept  noiselessly  out  before  daybreak,  and  went  off".  We  <lid  not 
leave  until  nearly  seven  o'clock,  and  followed  them  leisurely,  leav- 
ing all  our  properties  in  the  cow-shed ;  sauntered  over  the  gentian- 
studded  slopes  which  intervene  between  the  shed  and  the  Glacier 
da  Lion,  left  cows  and  their  pastures  behind,  traversed  the  stony 
wastes,  ami  arrived  at  the  ice.  Old  beds  of  hard  snow  lay  on  its 
right  bank  (our  left  hand),  and  we  mounted  over  them  on  to  the 
lower  portion  of  the  glacier  with  ease.  Hut,  as  we  ascended, 
crevasses  became  numerous,  and  we  were  at  last  brought  to  a  hall 
by  some  which  were  of  very  large  dimensions;  and,  as  our  cutting 
powers  were  limited,  we  sought  an  easier  route,  and  turned, 
naturally,  to  the  lower  rocks  of  the  Tete  du  Lion,  which  overlook 
the  glacier  on  its  west.  Some  good  scrambling  took  us  in  a  short 
time  on  to  the  crest  of  the  ridge  which  descends  towards  the 
south ;  and  thence,  up  to  the  level  of  the  Col  du  Lion,  there  was  a 
long  natural  staircase,  on  which  it  was  seldom  necessary  to  use 
the  hands.  I  dubbed  the  place  "The  Great  Staircase."  Then  the 
cliffs  of  the  Tete  du  Lion,  which  rise  above  the  Couloir,  had  to  1"' 
skirted.  This  part  varies  considerably  in  different  seasons,  and  in 
1861  we  found  it  difficult;  for  the  line  weather  of  that  year  had 
reduced  the  snow-beds  abutting  against  it  to  a  lower  level  than 
usual,  and  the  rocks  which  were  left  exposed  at  the  junction  of 
the  snow  with  the  cliffs  had  few  ledges  or  cracks  to  which  we 
could  hold.  But  by  half- past  ten  o'clock  we  stood  on  the  Col, 
and  looked  down  upon  the  magnificent  basin  out  of  which  the 
Z'Mutt  Glacier  flows.  We  decided  to  pass  the  night  upon  the 
Col,  for  we  were  charmed  with  the  capabilities  of  the  place,  al- 
though it  was  one  where  liberties  could  not  be  taken.  On  one 
side  a  sheer  wall  overhung  the  Tiefenmatten  Glacier.  ( »n  the 
other,  steep,  glassy  slopes  of  hard  snow  descended  to  the  Glacier 
du  Lion,  furrowed  by  water  and  by  falling  stones.  On  the  north 
there  was  the  great  peak  of  the  Matterhorn,1  and  on  the  south  the 

1  The  engraving  is  made  after  a  sketch  taken  from  the  rocks  of  the  Mat d  ilium. 
just  above  the  Col. 


OHAP.  iv.        MY  FIRST  CAMP  ON  THE  MATTEKHOliN. 


83 


cliffs  of  the  Tete  du  Lion.     Throw  a  bottle  down  to  the  Tiefen- 
matten — no  sound  returns  for  more  than  a  dozen  seconds. 

*  *  *  'how  fearful 

And  dizzy  'tis,  to  cast  one's  eyes  so  low  ! " 


THE   COL   DU    LION  :     LOOKING   TOWARDS   THE   THTE    DU    LION. 

But  no  harm  could  come  from  that  side.  Neither  could  it  from 
the  other.  Nor  was  it  likely  that  it  would  from  the  Tete  du 
Lion,  for  some  jutting  ledges  conveniently  overhung  our  proposed 
resting-place.     We  waited  for  a  while,  busked  in  the  sunshine, 


84  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chaimv. 

and  watched  or  listened  to  the  Carrels,  who  were  sometimes 
seen  or  heard,  high  above  us,  upon  the  ridge  leading  towards  the 
summit;  and,  leaving  at  mid-day,  we  descended  to  the  cow-shed, 
packed  up  the  tent  and  other  properties,  and  returned  to  the  Col, 
although  heavily  laden,  before  six  o'clock.  This  tent  was  con- 
structed on  a  pattern  suggested  by  Mr.  Francis  Galton,  and  it 
was  not  a  success.  It  looked  very  pretty  when  set  up  in  London, 
but  it  proved  thoroughly  useless  in  the  Alps.  It  was  made  of 
light  canvas,  and  opened  like  a  book;  had  one  end  closed  per- 
manently and  the  other  with  flaps;  it  was  supported  by  two 
alpenstocks,  and  had  the  canvas  sides  prolonged  so  as  to  turn  in 
underneath.  Numerous  cords  were  sewn  to  the  lower  edges,  to 
which  stones  were  to  be  attached ;  but  the  main  fastenings  were 
by  a  cord  which  passed  underneath  the  ridge  and  through  iron 
rings  screwed  into  the  tops  of  the  alpenstocks,  and  were  secured 
by  pegs.  The  wind,  which  playfully  careered  about  the  surround- 
ing cliffs,  was  driven  through  our  gap  as  through  a  blow-pipe ; 
the  flaps  of  the  tent  would  not  keep  down,  the  pegs  would  not  stay 
in,  and  it  exhibited  so  marked  a  desire  to  go  to  the  top  of  the 
Dent  Blanche,  that  we  thought  it  prudent  to  take  it  down  and 
sit  upon  it.  "When  night  came  on  we  wrapped  ourselves  in  it, 
and  made  our  camp  as  comfortable  as  the  circumstances  would 
allow.  The  silence  was  impressive.  No  living  thing  was  near  our 
solitary  bivouac;  the  Carrels  had  turned  back  and  were  out  of 
hearing ;  the  stones  had  ceased  to  fall,  and  the  trickling  water  to 
murmur — 

"  The  music  of  whose  liquid  lip 
Had  been  to  us  companionship, 
And,  in  our  lonely  life,  had  grown 
To  have  an  almost  human  tone."  * 

It  was  bitterly  cold.  Water  froze  hard  in  a  bottle  under  my  head 
Not  surprising,  as  we  were  actually  on  snow,  and  in  a  position 
where  the  slightest  wind  was  at  once  felt.     For  a  time  we  dozed, 

1  J.  G.  Whittier. 


chap.  iv.  LIGHT  AND  SHADE.  85 

but  about  midnight  there  came  from  high  aloft  a  tremendous 
explosion,  followed  by  a  second  of  dead  quiet.  A  great  mass  of 
rock  had  split  off,  and  was  descending  towards  us.  My  guide 
started  up,  wrung  his  hands,  and  exclaimed,  "  0  my  God,  we  are 
lost ! "  We  heard  it  coming,  mass  after  mass  pouring  over  the 
precipices,  bounding  and  rebounding  from  cliff  to  cliff,  and  the 
great  rocks  in  advance  smiting  one  another.  They  seemed  to  be 
close,  although  they  were  probably  distant,  but  some  small  frag- 
ments, which  dropped  upon  us  at  the  same  time  from  the  ledges 
just  above,  added  to  the  alarm,  and  my  demoralised  companion 
passed  the  remainder  of  the  night  in  a  state  of  shudder,  ejaculat- 
ing 'terrible,'  and  other  adjectives. 

We  put  ourselves  in  motion  at  daybreak,  and  commenced  the 
ascent  of  the  south-west  ridge.  There  was  no  more  sauntering 
with  hands  in  the  pockets, — each  step  had  to  be  earned  by  down- 
right climbing.  But  it  was  the  most  pleasant  kind  of  climbing. 
The  rocks  were  fast  and  unencumbered  with  debris;  the  cracks 
were  good,  although  not  numerous ;  and  there  was  nothing  to  fear 
except  from  one's-self.  So  we  thought,  at  least,  and  shouted  to 
awake  echoes  from  the  cliff.  Ah  !  there  is  no  response.  Not  yet ; 
wait  a  while,  everything  here  is  upon  a  superlative  scale.  Count 
a  dozen,  and  then  the  echoes  will  return  from  the  walls  of  the  Dent 
d'Herens,  miles  away,  in  waves  of  pure  and  undefiled  sound ;  soft, 
musical,  and  sweet.  Halt  a  moment  to  regard  the  view !  We 
overlook  the  Tete  du  Lion,  and  nothing  except  the  Dent  d'Herens, 
whose  summit  is  still  a  thousand  feet  above  us,  stands  in  the  way ; 
the  ranges  of  the  Graian  Alps — an  ocean  of  mountains — are  seen 
at  a  glance,  governed  by  their  three  great  peaks,  the  Grivola, 
Grand  Paradis,  and  Tour  du  Grand  St.  Pierre.  How  soft,  and  yet 
how  sharp,  they  look  in  the  early  morning !  The  mid-day  mists 
have  not  begun  to  rise ;  nothing  is  obscured ;  even  the  pointed 
Viso,  all  but  a  hundred  miles  away,  is  perfectly  denned. 

Turn  to  the  east,  and  watch  the  sun's  slanting  rays  coming 
across  the  Monte  Rosa  snow-fields.     Look  at  the  shadowed  parts, 


N  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  Till-:  ALPS.  char  iv. 

and  see  how  even  they — radiant  with  reflected  light — are  more 
brilliant  than  man  knows  how  to  depict.  See,  how — even  there — 
the  gentle  undulations  give  shadows  within  shadows;  and  how 
yet  again — where  falling  stones  or  ice  have  left  a  track,  there  are 
shadows  upon  shadows,  each  with  a  light  and  a  dark  side,  with 
in  finite  gradations  of  matchless  tenderness.  Then,  note  the  sun- 
light as  it  steals  noiselessly  along,  and  reveals  countless  unsus- 
pected forms; — the  delicate  ripple-lines  which  mark  the  concealed 
crevasse,  and  the  waves  of  drifted  snow;  producing  each  minute 
more  lights  and  fresh  shadows ;  sparkling  on  the  edges  and 
glittering  on  the  ends  of  the  icicles ;  shining  on  the  heights  and 
illuminating  the  depths,  until  all  is  aglow,  and  the  dazzled  eye 
returns  for  relief  to  the  sombre  crags. 

Hardly  an  hour  had  passed  since  we  left  the  Col  before  we 
arrived  at  the  "  Chimney."  It  proved  to  be  the  counterpart  of  the 
place  to  which  reference  has  been  made  at  p.  5  ;  a  smooth,  straight 
slab  of  rock  was  fixed,  at  a  considerable  angle,  between  two  others 
equally  smooth.1  My  companion  essayed  to  go  up,  and,  after 
crumpling  his  long  body  into  many  ridiculous  positions,  he  said 
that  he  would  not,  for  he  could  not,  manage  it.  With  some  little 
trouble  I  got  up  unassisted,  and  then  my  guide  tied  himself  on  to 
the  end  of  our  rope,  and  I  endeavoured  to  pull  him  up.  But  he 
was  so  awkward  that  he  did  little  for  himself,  and  so  heavy  that 
he  proved  too  much  for  me,  and  after  several  attempts  he  untied 
himself,  and  quietly  observed  that  he  should  go  down.  I  told 
him  he  was  a  coward,  and  he  mentioned  his  opinion  of  me.  I 
requested  him  to  go  to  Breuil,  and  to  say  that  he  had  left  his 
'monsieur' on  the  mountain,  and  he  tinned  to  go;  whereupon  I 
had  to  eat  humble  pie  and  ask  him  to  come  back;  for,  although  it 
was  not  very  difficult  to  go  up,  and  not  at  all  dangerous  with  a 
man  standing  below,  it  was  quite  another  thing  to  come  down,  as 
the  lower  edge  overhung  in  a  provoking  manner. 

1   Mr.  Hawkins  referred  to  this  place  as  one  of  excessive  difficulty.     He,  howoTMT, 
found  it  coated  with  ice  ;  we  found  it  free  from  ice. 


chap.  iv.  A  COOL  PROCEEDING.  87 

The  day  was  perfect;  the  sun  was  pouring  down  grateful 
warmth ;  the  wind  had  fallen ;  the  way  seemed  clear,  no  in- 
superable obstacle  was  in  sight ;  but  what  could  one  do  alone  ? 
I  stood  on  the  top,  chafing  under  this  unexpected  contretemps, 
and  remained  for  some  time  irresolute  ;  but  as  it  became  apparent 
that  the  Chimney  was  swept  more  frequently  than  was  necessary 
(it  was  a  natural  channel  for  falling  stones),  I  turned  at  last, 
descended  with  the  assistance  of  my  companion,  and  returned 
with  him  to  Breuil,  where  we  arrived  about  mid-day. 

The  Carrels  did  not  shew  themselves.  We  were  told  that 
they  had  not  got  to  any  great  height,1  and  that  the  'comrade,' 
who  for  convenience  had  taken  off  his  shoes  and  tied  them  round 
his  waist,  had  managed  to  let  one  of  them  slip,  and  had  come 
down  with  a  piece  of  cord  fastened  round  his  naked  foot.  Not- 
withstanding this,  they  had  boldly  glissaded  down  the  Couloir  du 
Lion,  J.  J.  Carrel  having  his  shoeless  foot  tied  up  in  a  pocket 
handkerchief. 

The  Matterhorn  was  not  assailed  again  in  1861.  I  left  Breuil 
with  the  conviction  that  it  was  little  use  for  a  single  person  to 
organise  an  attack  upon  it,  so  great  was  its  influence  on  the  morals 
of  the  guides ;  and  persuaded  that  it  was  desirable  at  least  two 
should  go,  to  back  each  other  when  required :  and  departed  with 
my  guide 2  over  the  Col  Theodule,  longing,  more  than  before,  to 
make  the  ascent,  and  determined  to  return,  if  possible,  with  a 
companion,  to  lay  siege  to  the  mountain  until  one  or  the  other 
was  vanquished. 

1  I  learned  afterwards  from  Jean-Antoine  Carrel  that  they  got  considerably 
higher  than  upon  their  previous  attempts,  and  about  250  or  300  feet  higher  than 
Professor  Tyndall  in  1860.  In  1862,  I  saw  the  initials  of  J. -A.  Carrel  cut  on  the 
rocks  at  the  place  where  he  and  his  comrade  had  turned  back. 

•  This  man  proved  to  be  both  willing  and  useful  on  lower  ground,  and  voluntarily 
accompanied  me  a  considerable  distance  out  of  his  way,  without  fee  or  reward. 


CHAPTER   V. 

RENEWED   ATTEMPTS  TO   ASCEND   THE    tUTTEBHOBN. 

"  'Tis  a  lesson  you  should  heed, 

Try,  try,  try  again. 

If  at  first  you  don't  succeed, 

Try,  try,  try  again. 
Then  your  courage  should  appear, 
For  if  you  will  persevere 
You  will  conquer,  never  fear. 
Try,   try,   try  again.'' 

HlOKSOK. 

Thk  year  1862  was  still  young,  and  the  Matterhorn,  clad  in  its 
wintry  garb,  bore  but  little  resemblance  to  the  Matterhorn  of  the 
summer,  when  a  new  force  came  to  do  battle  with  the  mountain, 
from  another  direction.  Mr.  T.  S.  Kennedy  of  Leeds  conceived  the 
extraordinary  idea  that  the  peak  might  prove  less  impracticable  in 
January  than  in  June, and  arrived  at  Zermatt  in  the  former  month 
to  put  his  conception  to  the  test.  With  stout  Peter  Perrn  and 
sturdy  Peter  Taugwalder  he  slept  in  the  little  chapel  at  the 
Schwarzsee,  and  on  the  next  morning,  like  the  Messrs.  Parker, 
followed  the  ridge  between  the  peak  called  Horn]]  and  the  great 
mountain.  But  they  found  that  snow  in  winter  obeyed  the  ordi- 
nary laws,  and  that  wind  and  frost  were  not  less  unkind  than  in 
summer.  "The  wind  whirled  up  the  snow  and  spiculie  of  ice  into 
our  faces  like  needles,  and  flat  pieces  of  ice  a  foot  in  diameter, 
carried  up  from  the  glacier  below,  went  flying  past,  still  do  one 
seemed  to  like  to  be  the  first  to  give  in,  till  a  gust  fiercer  than  usual 
forced  us  to  shelter  for  a  time  behind  a  rock.  Immediately  it  was 
tacitly  understood  that  our  expedition  must  now  end:    bul   we 


UHAP.v.  BENNEN  REFUSES  TO  START  AGAIN.  89 

determined  to  leave  some  memento  of  our  visit,  and,  after  descend- 
ing a  considerable  distance,  we  found  a  suitable  place  with  loose 
stones  of  which  to  build  a  cairn.  In  half-an-hour  a  tower  six  feet 
high  was  erected ;  a  bottle,  with  the  date,  was  placed  inside,  and 
we  retreated  as  rapidly  as  possible."  l  This  cairn  was  placed  at  the 
spot  marked  upon  Dufour's  Map  of  Switzerland  10,820  feet  (3298 
metres),  and  the  highest  point  attained  by  Mr.  Kennedy  was  not, 
1  imagine,  more  than  two  or  three  hundred  feet  above  it. 

Shortly  after  this  Professor  Tyndall  gave,  in  his  little  tract 
Mountaineering  in  1861,  an  account  of  the  reason  why  he  had 
left  Breuil,  in  August  1861,  without  doing  anything.2  It  seems 
that  he  sent  his  guide  Bennen  to  reconnoitre,  and  that  the  latter 
made  the  following  report  to  his  employer : — "  Herr,  I  have  ex- 
amined the  mountain  carefully,  and  find  it  more  difficult  and 
dangerous  than  I  had  imagined.  There  is  no  place  upon  it  where 
we  could  well  pass  the  night.  We  might  do  so  on  yonder  Col 
upon  the  snow,  but  there  we  should  be  almost  frozen  to  death,  and 
totally  unfit  for  the  work  of  the  next  day.  On  the  rocks  there  is 
no  ledge  or  cranny  which  could  give  us  proper  harbourage ;  and 
starting  from  Breuil  it  is  certainly  impossible  to  reach  the  summit 
in  a  single  day."  "  I  was  entirely  taken  aback,"  says  Tyndall, 
"  by  this  report.  I  felt  like  a  man  whose  grip  had  given  way,  and 
who  was  dropping  through  the  air.  .  .  .  Bennen  was  evidently 
dead  against  any  attempt  upon  the  mountain.  'We  can,  at  all 
events,  reach  the  lower  of  the  two  summits,'  I  remarked.  '  Even 
that  is  difficult,'  he  replied ;  '  but  when  you  have  reached  it,  what 
then  ?     The  peak  has  neither  name  nor  fame.' " 3 

1  Alpine  Journal,  1863,  p.  82.  *  See  p.  79. 

5  Mountaineering  in  1861,  pp.  86-7.  Tyndall  and  Bennen  were  mistaken  in 
supposing  that  the  mountain  has  two  summits  ;  it  lias  only  one.  They  seem  to  have 
been  deceived  by  the  api>earance  of  that  part  of  the  south-west  ridge  which  is  called 
'  the  shoulder'  (lVpaule),  as  seen  from  Breuil.  Viewed  from  that  place,  its  southern 
end  has  certainly,  through  foreshortening,  the  semblance  of  a  {teak  ;  but  when  one 
regards  it  from  the  Col  Theodule,  or  from  any  place  in  the  same  direction,  the  delu- 
sion is  at  once  apparent. 

N 


90  80RAMBLE8  AMONGST  THE  Airs.  ohap.v. 

I  was  more  surprised  than  discouraged  by  this  report  by 
Bennen.  One  half  of  his  assertions  I  knew  to  be  wrong,  The  Ool 
to  which  he  referred  was  the  ('"1  <lu  Lion,  upon  which  we  had 

passed  a  night  leaf  than  a  week  after  he  had  spoken  so  authorita- 
tively: and  I  had  seen  a  place  not  far  below  the  'Chimney/ — a 
place  about  500  feet  above  the  Col — where  it  seemed  possible  to 
construct  a  sleeping-place.  Iiennens  opinions  seem  to  have  under- 
gone a  complete  change.  In  1860  he  is  described  as  having  been 
enthusiastic  to  make  an  attempt  :  in  1861  he  was  dead  against 
one.  Nothing  dismayed  by  this,  my  friend  Mr.  Reginald 
Macdonald,  our  companion  on  Mont  Pelvoux,  to  whom  so  much 
of  our  success  had  been  due,  agreed  to  join  me  in  a  renewed 
assault  from  the  south  ;  and,  although  we  failed  to  secure  Melohior 
Anderegg  and  some  other  notable  guides,  we  obtained  two  men  of 
repute,  namely,  Johann  zum  Taugwald  and  Johann  Kronig,  of 
Zei  niatt.  We  met  at  that  place  early  in  July,  but  stormy  weather 
prevented  us  for  some  days  even  from  passing  to  the  other  side  of 
the  chain ;  and  when  we  crossed  the  Col  Theodule  on  the  5th  the 
weather  was  thoroughly  unsettled — it  was  raining  in  the  valleys, 
and  snowing  upon  the  mountains.  Shortly  before  the  summit 
was  gained  we  were  made  extremely  uncomfortable  by  hearing 
mysterious,  rushing  sounds,  which  sometimes  seemed  as  if  a  sudden 
gust  of  wind  was  sweeping  along  the  snow,  and,  at  others,  almost 
like  the  swishing  of  a  long  whip :  yet  the  snow  exhibited  no  signs 
of  motion,  and  the  air  was  perfectly  calm.  The  dense,  black  storm- 
clouds  made  us  expect  that  our  bodies  might  be  used  as  lightning- 
conductors,  and  we  were  well  satisfied  to  get  under  shelter  of  the 
inn  at  Breuil,  without  having  submitted  to  any  such  experience.1 

1  The  late  Principal  Forbes  was  similarly  situated  while  crossing  the  same  pus 
in  1842.  He  described  the  sounds  as  rustling,  fizzing,  and  hissing.  See  his  I 
in  the  Alps  of  Savoy,  second  ed.,  p.  323.  Dr.  R.  Sponce  Watson  experisneed  tin 
•viiin  upon  the  upper  part  of  the  Aletsch  Glacier  in  July  1808,  and  In-  ipoke  of  tin 
sounds  as  singing  or  hissing.  See  the  Athenccum,  Sept.  12,  1863.  The  nspeotivf 
parties  seem  to  have  been  highly  electrified  on  each  occasion.  Forbes  says  that  his 
fingers  "yielded  a  fizzing  sound  ;"  and  Watson  says  that  his  "hair  stood  on  end  in 


OTAR  v.  77J£  HUNCHBACK  OF  BREUIL.  91 

We  had  need  of  a  porter,  and,  by  the  advice  of  our  landlord, 
descended  to  the  chillets  of  Breuil  in  search  of  one  Luc  Meynet. 
We  found  his  house  a  mean  abode,  encumbered  with  cheese- 
making  apparatus,  and  tenanted  only  by  some  bright-eyed  children; 
but  as  they  said  that  uncle  Luc  would  soon  be  home,  we  waited  at 
the  door  of  the  little  chalet  and  watched  for  him.  At  last  a  speck 
was  seen  coming  round  the  corner  of  the  patch  of  pines  below 
Breuil,  and  then  the  children  clapped  their  hands,  dropped  their 
toys,  and  ran  eagerly  forward  to  meet  him.  We  saw  an  ungainly, 
wobbling  figure  stoop  down  and  catch  up  the  little  ones,  kiss  them 
on  each  cheek,  and  put  them  into  the  empty  panniers  on  each  side 
of  the  mule,  and  then  heard  it  come  on  carolling,  as  if  this  was  not 
a  world  of  woe :  and  yet  the  face  of  little  Luc  Meynet,  the  hunch- 
back of  Breuil,  bore  traces  of  trouble  and  sorrow,  and  there  was 
more  than  a  touch  of  sadness  in  his  voice  when  he  said  that  he  must 
look  after  his  brother's  children.  All  his  difficulties  were,  however, 
at  length. overcome,  and  he  agreed  to  join  us  to  carry  the  tent. 

In  the  past  winter  I  had  turned  my  attention  to  tents,  and 
that  which  we  had  brought  with  us  was  the  result  of  experiments 
to  devise  one  which  should  be  sufficiently  portable  to  be  taken 
over  the  most  difficult  ground,  whilst  combining  lightness  with 
stability.  Its  base  was  just  under  six  feet  square,  and  a  cross- 
section  perpendicular  to  its  length  was  an  equilateral  triangle,  the 
sides  of  which  were  six  feet  long.  It  was  intended  to  accommodate 
four  persons.  It  was  supported  by  four  ash-poles,  six  feet  and  a 
half  long,  and  one  inch  and  a  quarter  thick,  tapering  to  the  top  to 
an  inch  and  an  eighth ;  these  were  shod  with  iron  points.  The 
order  of  proceeding  in  the  construction  of  the  tent  was  as  follows. 
Holes  were  drilled  through  the  poles  about  five  inches  from  their 
tops,  for  the  insertion  of  two  wrought-iron  bolts,  three  inches  long 
and  one  quarter  of  an  inch  thick.     The  bolts  were  then  inserted, 

in  uncomfortable  but  very  amusing  manner,"  and  that  "the  veil  on  the  wide-awake 
of  one  of  the  party  stood  upright   in  the  air!" 


!»_' 


>■<•/;. i. w /:/./•;>•  amuxhst  Tin:  Ai.rs. 


OHAP.  v. 


and  the  two  pairs  of  poles  were  set  out  (and  fixed  op  by  a  cord),  to 
the  proper  dimensions.  The  roof  was  then 
put  on.  This  was  made  of  tin-  rough,  un- 
bleached calico  called  forfar,  which  can  be 
obtained  in  six-feet  widths,  and  it  was  con- 
tinued round  for  about  two  feet,  on  each  side, 
on  to  the  floor.  The  widtli  of  the  material 
was  the  length  of  the  tent,  and  seams  were 

thus  avoided  in  the  roof.     The  forfar  was  sewn  round  each  pole; 

particular  care  being  taken  to  avoid  wrinkles,  and  to  get  the  whole 


it  c  , 


AI.I'INK   TKNT. 


perfectly  taut.     The  flooring  was  next  put  in  and  sewn  down  to 

the  forfar.     This  was  of  the  ordinary  plaid  mackintosh,  about  nine 

quare;  the  surplus  three  feel  being  continued  up  the  sides  to 

prevent  draughts.     It  is  as  well  to  have  two  feet  of  this  surplus  on 


chap.  v.  ON  THE  BEST  FORM  OF  ALPINE  TENT.  93 

one  side,  and  only  one  foot  on  the  other ;  the  latter  amount  being 
sufficient  for  the  side  occupied  by  the  feet.  One  end  was  then 
permanentlj  closed  by  a  triangular  piece  of  forfar,  which  was  sewn 
down  to  that  which  was  already  fixed.  The  other  end  was  left 
open,  and  had  two  triangular  flaps  that  overlapped  each  other, 
and  which  were  fastened  up  when  we  were  inside  by  pieces  of 
tape.  Lastly,  the  forfar  was  nailed  down  to  the  poles  to  prevent 
the  tent  getting  out  of  shape.  The  cord  which  was  used  for 
climbing  served  for  the  tent.  It  was  passed  over  the  crossed  poles 
and  underneath  the  ridge  of  the  roof,  and  the  two  ends — one  fore 
and  the  other  aft — were  easily  secured  to  pieces  of  rock.  Such  a 
tent  cost  about  four  guineas,  and  its  weight  is  about  twenty-three 
pounds;  or,  if  the  lightest  kind  of  forfar  is  used,  it  need  not 
exceed  twenty  pounds.  When  it  was  fastened  up  for  transport  it 
presented  the  appearance  shewn  in  the  portrait  of  Meynet  at  p.  279, 
and  it  could  be  unrolled  and  set  up  by  two  persons  in  three  min- 
utes,— a  point  of  no  small  importance  during  extreme  weather. 
This  tent  is  intended  and  is  adapted  for  camping  out  at  high  alti- 
tudes, or  in  cold  climates.  It  is  not  pretended  that  it  is  perfectly 
waterproof,  but  it  can  be  made  so  by  the  addition  of  mackintosh  to 
the  roof;  and  this  increases  the  weight  by  only  two  and  a  half  pounds. 
It  is  then  fit  for  general  use.1  It  may  be  observed  that  the  pattern 
of  this  tent  is  identical  in  all  essential  points  with  that  arrived  at 
(after  great  experience)  by  Sir  Leopold  M'Clintock  for  Arctic  work, 
and  frequent  use  by  many  persons,  under  varied  conditions,  has 
shewn  that  the  pattern  is  both  practical  and  substantial.2 

1  I  have  described  this  tent  at  length,  as  applications  have  often  been  made  to 
me  for  information  on  the  subject.  I  would  strongly  recommend  any  person  who 
wishes  to  have  one  for  long-continued  use,  to  have  it  made  under  his  own  eye,  and 
to  be  particularly  careful  to  test  the  poles.  My  experience  goes  to  show  that  poles 
which  (when  sup]>orted  upon  their  extremities)  will  bear  a  dead  weight  of  100  lbs.  sus- 
]mii<1>  <1  from  their  centres,  will  stand  any  wind  to  which  they  are  likely  to  be  submit  t<  <1. 

3  It  has  been  used,  amongst  others,  by  Messrs.  Freshfield,  Moore,  and  Tucker,  in 
the  Caucasus  ;  by  the  Rev.  W.  H.  Hawker  in  Corsica  ;  by  Sir  J.  D.  Hooker  and 
Mr.  John  Iia.ll  in  Morocco;  by  Mr.  Conway  in  the  Himalayas;  and  by  myself  in 
Greenland  and  on  the  Great  Andes  of  the  Equator. 


:u  80RAMBUS8  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  ohap.v. 

Sunday,  the  6th  of  July,  was  showery,  and  snow  fell  on  the 
Matti'iliuin,  but  we  Btarted  on  the  following  morning  with  our 
three  men,  and  pursued  my  route  of  the  previous  year.  I  was 
requested  to  direol  the  way,  as  aone  Bave  myself  had  been  oil  the 
mountain  before.  I  did  not  distinguish  myself  on  this  occasion, 
nnd  led  my  companions  Dearly  to  the  top  of  the  T6te  du  Lion  be- 
fore tin'  mistake  was  discovered.  The  party  becoming  rebellious, 
a  little  exploration  was  made  towards  our  right, and  we  found  that 
we  were  upon  the  top  of  the  (lilt'  overlooking  the  Col  du  Lion. 
The  upper  part  of  the  small  peak  is  very  different  in  character  from 
the  lower  part;  the  rocks  are  not  so  firm,  and  they  are  usually 
covered,  or  intermixed,  with  snow,  and  glazed  with  ice:  the  angle 
too  is  more  severe.  While  descending  a  small  snow-slope,  I 
on  to  the  right  track,  Kronig  slipped  on  a  streak  of  ice,  and  went 
down  at  a  fearful  pace.  Fortunately  he  kept  on  his  legs,  and,  by 
a  great  effort,  succeeded  in  stopping  just  before  he  arrived  at  some 
rocks  that  jutted  through  the  snow,  which  would  infallibly  have 
knocked  him  over.  When  we  rejoined  him  a  few  minutes  later,  we 
found  that  he  was  incapable  of  standing,  much  less  of  moving,  with 
a  face  corpse-like  in  hue,  and  trembling  violently.  He  remained 
in  this  condition  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  the  day  was  conse- 
quently far  advanced  before  we  arrived  at  our  camping-place  on  the 
Col.  Profiting  by  the  experience  of  last  year,  we  did  not  pitch  the 
tent  actually  on  the  snow,  but  collected  a  quantity  of  debris  from 
the  neighbouring  ledges,  and  after  constructing  a  rough  platform 
of  the  larger  pieces,  levelled  the  whole  with  the  dirt  and  mud. 

Meynet  had  proved  invaluable  as  a  tent-bearer;  for — although 
his  legs  were  more  picturesque  than  symmetrical,  and  although  he 
seemed  to  be  built  on  principle  with  no  two  parts  alike — his  very 
deformities  proved  of  service;  and  we  quickly  found  he  had  spirit 
of  no  common  order,  and  that  few  peasants  are  more  agreeable  com- 
panions, or  better  climbers,  than  little  Luc  Meynet,  the  hunchback 
of  BreuiL    He  now  shewed  himself  not  Less  serviceable  asa  scavenger, 

and  humbly  asked  for  gristly  pieces  of  meat,  rejected  by  the  others. 


chap.  v.  DENUDATION.  95 

or  for  suspicious  eggs;  and  seemed  to  consider  it  a  peculiar  favour, 
if  not  a  treat,  to  be  permitted  to  drink  the  coffee-grounds.  With 
the  greatest  contentment  he  took  the  worst  place  at  the  door  of 
the  tent,  and  did  all  the  dirty  work  which  was  put  upon  him  by 
the  guides,  as  gratefully  as  a  dog — who  has  been  well  beaten — will 
receive  a  stroke. 

A  strong  wind  sprang  up  from  the  east  during  the  night,  and 
in  the  morning  it  was  blowing  almost  a  hurricane.  The  tent 
behaved  nobly,  and  we  remained  under  its  shelter  for  several  hours 
after  the  sun  had  risen,  uncertain  what  it  was  best  to  do.  A  lull 
tempted  us  to  move,  but  we  had  scarcely  ascended  a  hundred  feet 
before  the  storm  burst  upon  us  with  increased  fury.  Advance  or 
return  was  alike  impossible  ;  the  ridge  was  denuded  of  its  debris ; 
and  we  clutched  our  hardest  when  we  saw  stones  as  big  as  a  man's 
fist  blown  away  horizontally  into  space.  We  dared  not  attempt  to 
stand  upright,  and  remained  stationary,  on  all  fours,  glued,  as  it 
were,  to  the  rocks.  It  was  intensely  cold,  for  the  blast  had  swept 
along  the  main  chain  of  the  Pennine  Alps,  and  across  the  great 
snow-fields  around  Monte  Rosa.  Our  warmth  and  courage  rapidly 
evaporated,  and  at  the  next  lull  we  retreated  to  the  tent ;  having 
to  halt  several  times  even  in  that  short  distance.  Taugwald  and 
Kronig  then  declared  that  they  had  had  enough,  and  refused  to 
have  anything  more  to  do  with  the  mountain.  Meynet  also  in- 
formed us  that  he  would  be  required  down  below  for  important 
cheese-making  operations  on  the  following  day.  It  was  therefore 
needful  to  return  to  Breuil,  and  we  arrived  there  at  2.30  p.m., 
extremely  chagrined  at  our  complete  defeat. 

Jean-Antoine  Carrel,  attracted  by  rumours,  had  come  up  to 
the  inn  during  our  absence,  and  after  some  negotiations  agreed  to 
accompany  us,  with  one  of  his  friends  named  Pession,  on  the  first 
fine  day.  We  thought  ourselves  fortunate;  for  Carrel  clearly 
considered  the  mountain  a  kind  of  premrrr.  and  regarded  our  late 
attempt  as  an  act  of  poaching.  The  wind  blew  itself  out  during 
the  night,  and  we  started  again,  with  these  two  men  and  a  porter, 


S( '11. I  M III. i:S  A M< WIST  THE  ALPS.  .  1 1  \ i\  T. 

at  8  a.m.  on  the  9th,  with  unexceptionable  weather.  Carre] 
pleased  us  by  suggesting  that  we  should  camp  even  higher  than 
before;  and  we  accordingly  proceeded,  without  resting  at  the 
until  we  overtopped  the  Tete  <lu  Lion.  Near  the  foot  of  the 
•  Chimney,'  a  little  below  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  and  mi  its  eastern 
side,  we  found  a  protected  place;  and  by  building  up  from  Ledge 
to  ledge  (under  the  direction  of  OUT  Leader,  who  at  that  time  was  B 
working  mason),  we  at  length  constructed  a  platform  of  sufficient 
size  and  of  considerable  solidity.  Its  height  was  about  L2,550  feet 
above  the  sea ;  and  it  exists,  I  believe,  at  the  present  time.1  We 
then  pushed  on,  as  the  day  was  very  fine,  and,  after  a  short  hour's 
scramble,  got  to  the  foot  of  the  Great  Tower  upon  the  ridge  (that 
is  to  say,  to  Mr.  Hawkins'  farthest  point),  and  afterwards  returned 
to  our  bivouac.  We  turned  out  again  at  4  a.m..  and  at  5.15  started 
upwards  once  more,  with  fine  weather  and  the  thermometer  at  28°. 
Carrel  scrambled  up  the  Chimney,  and  Macdonald  and  I  after  him. 
Pession's  turn  came,  but  when  he  arrived  at  the  top  he  looked  very 
ill,  declared  himself  to  be  thoroughly  incapable,  and  stud  that  he 
must  go  back.  We  waited  some  time,  but  he  did  not  get  better, 
neither  could  we  learn  the  nature  of  his  illness.  Carrel  flatly 
refused  to  go  on  with  us  alone.  We  were  helpless.  Macdonald. 
ever  the  coolest  of  the  cool,  suggested  that  we  should  try  what  we 
could  do  without  them;  but  our  better  judgment  prevailed,  and, 
finally,  we  returned  together  to  Breuil.  On  the  next  day  my 
friend  started  for  London. 

Three  times  I  had  essayed  the  ascent  of  this  mountain,  and  on 
each  occasion  had  failed  ignominiously.  I  had  not  advanced  a 
yard  beyond  my  predecessors.  Up  to  the  height  of  nearly  1,'>,000 
feet  there  were  no  extraordinary  difficulties;  the  way  so  far  might 
even  become  "a  matter  of  amusement."    Only  1800  feet  remained; 

1  The  heights  given  on  the  outlines  of  the  Matterhorn  accomjwinying  Chap.  IV..  mi 
the  geological  section  in  the  Appendix,  and  quoted  throughout  the  hook,  air  after 
the  harometric  (mercurial)  measurements  of  Signor  F.  Giordano  in  1866  and  1868. 
I  have  ventured  t<»  cUffaf  from  him  only  in  regard  to  the  height  of  tin-  second  tent- 
platform,  and  have  assigned  to  it  a  somewhat  lower  elevation  than  his  estimate. 


i-H.vi-.  v.     .1   SCRAMBLE  ALONE  ON  THE  MATTEBHOBN.  M 

but  they  were  as  yet  untrodden,  and  might  present  the  most  for- 
midable obstacles.  No  man  could  expect  to  climb  them  by  himself. 
A  morsel  of  rock  only  seven  feet  high  might  at  any  time  defeat  him, 
if  it  were  perpendicular.    Such  a  place  might  be  possible  to  two, 

or  a  bagatelle  to  three  men.  It  was  evident  that  a  party  should 
consist  of  three  men  at  least.  But  where  could  the  other  two  men 
be  obtained  \  Carrel  was  the  only  man  who  exhibited  any  enthu- 
siasm in  the  matter;  and  he,  in  1861,  had  absolutely  refused  to  go 
unless  the  party  consisted  of  at  least  four  persons.  Want  of  men 
made  the  difficulty,  not  the  mountain. 

The  weather  became  bad  again,  so  I  went  to  Zerniatt  on  the 
chance  of  picking  up  a  man,  and  remained  there  during  a  week  of 
storms.1  Not  one  of  the  better  men,  however,  could  be  induced  to 
come,  and  I  returned  to  Breuil  on  the  17th,  hoping  to  combine  the 
skill  of  Carrel  with  the  willingness  of  Meynet  on  a  new  attempt, 
by  the  same  route  as  before ;  for  the  upper  part  of  the  north- 
eastern ridge,  which  I  had  inspected  in  the  meantime,  seemed  to  be 
entirely  impracticable.  Both  men  were  inclined  to  go,  but  their 
ordinary  occupations  prevented  them  from  starting  at  once.2 

My  tent  had  been  left  rolled  up  at  the  second  platform,  and 
whilst  waiting  for  the  men  it  occurred  to  me  that  it  might  have 
been  blown  away  during  the  late  stormy  weather ;  so  I  started  off 
on  the  18th  to  see  if  this  were  so  or  not.  The  way  was  by  this 
time  familiar,  and  I  mounted  rapidly,  astonishing  the  friendly 
herdsmen — who  nodded  recognition  as  I  flitted  past  them  and  the 
cows — for  I  was  alone,  because  no  man  was  available.  But  more 
deliberation  was  necessary  when  the  pastures  were  passed,  and 
climbing  began,  as  it  was  needful  to  mark  each  step,  in  ease  of  mist, 
or  surprise  by  night.  It  is  one  of  the  few  things  which  can  l>e  said 
in  favour  of  mountaineering  alone  (a  practice  which  has  little  be- 
sides to  commend  it),  that  it  awakens  a  man's  faculties,  and  makes 
liim  observe.    When  one  has  no  arms  to  help,  and  no  head  to  guide 

1  During  this  time  making  the  ascent  of  Monte  Rosa. 

'-'  They  were  not  guides  by  profession. 

O 


98  RAMBLES  AM0NQ8T  THE  MI'S.  chap. v. 

him  except  his  own,  he  must  needs  lake  note  even  of  small  things, 
for  he  cannot  afford  i"  throw  away  a  chance;  and  bo  it  earns  t<» 
pass,  upon  in \  solitary  scramble,  when  above  the  snow-line,  and 
beyond  tin-  ordinary  limits  <>i'  lowering  plants,  \\ hen  peering  aboos, 

noting  angles  and  landmarks,  that  my  eyes  fell  upon  the  tiny 
straggling  plants — oftentimes  a  single  Hower  on  a  single  stalk 
pioneers  of  vegetation,  atoms  of  life  in  a  world  of  desolation,  which 
had  found  their  way  up — who  can  tell  how? — from  far  below,  and 
were  obtaining  hare  sustenance  from  the  scanty  soil  in  protected 
nonks;  and  it  gave  a  new  interest  to  the  well-known  rocks  to  see 
what  a  gallant  tight  the  survivors  made  (for  many  must  have 
perished  in  the  attempt)  to  ascend  the  great  mountain.  The 
Gentian,  as  one  might  have  expected,  was  there,  but  it  was  run 
close  by  Saxifrages,  and  by  Linaria  alpina,  and  was  beaten  by 
Thkupi  rotuiulifolium,  which  latter  plant  was  the  highest  1  was. 
able  to  secure,  although  it  too  was  overtopped  by  a  little  white 
Hower  that  I  knew  not,  and  was  unable  to  reach.1 

1  Those  which  I  collected  were  as  follow: — Myosolis  alpcxtris,  (Jni.  :  Veronica 
aljiina.  L.  ;  Liimriii  o/j,i/ia,  Desf.  ;  Gcntiana  Bavarica,  L.  ;  Thlaspi  rot maH/uli urn. 
(Jaud.  ;  Silcnc  acaulis,  L.  (?)  ;  Potent  ilia  sp  ;  Saxtfraga  sp  :  So.fi/rayo  mut 
Wulf.  I  am  indebted  for  these  names  to  Mr.  William  Carruthers  of  tin-  British 
Museum.  The  plants  ranged  from  ahout  10,500  to  a  little  helow  13,000  feet,  ami 
are  the  highest  which  I  have  seen  anywhere  in  the  Alps.  Several  timet  this  number 
"1  -|x<ies  might  he  collected,  I  have  DO  doubt,  within  these  limits.  Y<  rv  few 
liohena  are  Been  0O  the  higher  parts  of  this  mountain  :  their  rarity  is  due,  doubtless, 
to  the  constant  disintegration  of  the  rocks,  and  the  consequent  exposure  i 
surfaces.  Silno  aca ulis  was  the  highest  plant  found  by  !>'•  Saus.su re  on  his  travels 
in  the  Aljw.  He  mentions  (§  2018)  that  he  found  a  tuft  "near  the  plaOB  when 
I  slept  on  my  return  (from  the  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc),  about  1780  toises  (11,388 
feet)  above  the  level  of  the  sea." 

Mr.  William  Mathews  and  Mr.  Charles  Paeke,  who  have  botanised  respectively 
for  many  years  in  the  Alps  and  Pyrenees,  have  favoured  me  with  the  names  of  the 
highest  plants  that  they  have  obtained  upon  their  excursions.  Their  lists,  although 
not  extensive,  are  interesting  as  shewing  the  extreme  limits  attained  by  some  of  the 
hardiest  of  Alpine  plants.  Those  mentioned  by  Mr.  Mathews  are — Campamtla 
•■■nisi, i,  b.  Crivola,  12,047  feet);  8axifro<ja  bryoidrs,  I.,  and  AndrostUi  y/afio/i.s. 
Stood,  tummlti  of  Meal  Kmilius,  11,677,  and  the  Kuitor,  11,480);  Bnnunculua 
y/aci'ilf,  L.,  Anuria  o/jo'na,  Willd.  and  I'yrcthrum  a/jiini'iit,  Willi).    .Monti'  Viso, 


chap.  v.     THE  PLANTS  FOUND  HIGHEST  IN  THE  A  LPS.  99 

The  tent  was  safe,  although  snowed  up ;  and  I  turned  to  con- 
template the  view,  which,  when  seen  alone  and  undisturbed,  had 
;ill  the  strength  and  charm  <>f  complete  novelty.  The  highest 
peaks  of  the  Pennine  chain  were  in  front — the  Breithorn  (13,685 
feet),  the  Lyskanmi  (14,889),  and  Monte  Kosa  (15,217);  then,  turn- 
ing to  the  right,  the  entire  block  of  mountains  which  separated  the 
Val  Tournanche  from  the  Val  d'Ayas  was  seen  at  a  glance,  with 
its  culminating  point  the  Grand  Tournalin  (11,086).  Behind 
were  the  ranges  dividing  the  Val  d'Ayas  from  the  Valley  of  Gres- 
soney,  backed  by  higher  summits.  More  still  to  the  right,  the  eye 
wandered  down  the  entire  length  of  the  Val  Tournanche,  and  then 
rested  upon  the  Graian  Alps  with  their  innumerable  peaks,  and 
upon  the  isolated  pyramid  of  Monte  Viso  (12,643)  in  the  extreme 
distance.     Next,  still  turning  to  the  right,  came  the  mountains 

from  10,000  to  10,500  feet) ;  Thlaspi  rot  undi  folium,  Gaud,  and  Saxifraga  biflora, 
All.  (Monte  Viso,  9500  feet)  ;  and  Campanula  rolundifolia,  L.  (?),  Artemisia  spica/a. 
Jacq.,  Aronicum  Doronicum,  Rehb.  and  Petrocallis  Pyrenaica,  R.  Br.  (Col  de 
Seylieres,  9247). 

Mr.  Packe  obtained,  on  or  close  to  the  summit  of  the  Pic  de  Mulhahacen,  Sierra 
Nevada  of  Granada  (11,600  to  11,700  feet),  Papain-  alpinum,  L.  (var.  Pyrenaiium). 
Art> miaia  Nevadensit  (used  for  giving  the  flavour  to  the  Manzanilla  sherry),  Viola 
Nevadensis,  Boiss.,  Galium  Pynnaicum,  Gouan,  Trisetum  glaciate,  Boiss.,  FltthtO* 
I'l'Hfiit.i,  Boiss.,  Saxifraga  Qrcmlaudica,  L.  (var.  Mixta),  Erigerou  alpinum,  L. 
(var.  glaciate),  and  Armaria  tetraquttra,  L.  On  the  Picacho  dc  Veleta  (11,440  feet), 
and  the  Alcazaba  (11,350),  the  same  plants  were  obtained,  with  the  exception  of  the 
first  named.  At  11,150  feet  on  these  mountains  he  collected  Ptilotrichuin  pur- 
pun  urn.  Lepidiwm  stylatum,  and  Biscutclla  saxatilis ;  and,  at  10,000  feet,  Alys.su i n 
sjiioi/inn  and  Sid^ritis  scordiodes.  Mr.  Packe  says  the  following  plants  occur  at 
9000  to  10,000  feet  in  the  Pyrenees: — Cerastium  latifolium,  Droit  ll'ahh  nl»  ryii. 
Hutch  insia  alpina,  Linaria  alpina,  Oxyria  reniformis,  Iltinunculus  glacia/is.  5 
fraga  nervosa,  S.  oppositi/blia,  S.  Groenlandica,  Staticc  Anncria,  Veronica  alpina. 

Information  on  the  botany  of  the  Val  Tournanche  is  contained  in  the  little  j«un- 
phlet  by  the  late  Canon  G.  Carrel,  entitled  Isi  Vallic  cb-  VaUarnmukt  m  ISG7  ;  and  a 
list  of  the  plants  which  have  hitherto  been  collected  on  the  glacier-surrounded  liil^'c 
(Furggen  Grat)  connecting  the  Matterhorn  with  the  Col  Theodulc,  will  Ik?  found  in 
Dollfus-Ausset's  Materia  us  pour  Vdtudt  tb$  Glaciers,  vol.   viii.   part  first,   IStiS. 

In  the  section  of  III  astral- J  Bmtft  upon  Zemiatt  (published  at  Zurich  l>y  Orell 
Fussli  &  Co.),  Herr  F.  O.  Wolf  states  that  he  found  several  plants  in  (lower  on  the 
northern  side  of  the  Matterhorn  nearly  as  high  as  'the  shoulder.' 


100  SCIi A  Mi: l.  EB  AMONGST  THE  A  LPS.  chav.  v. 

intervening  between  the  Val  Tonrnanche  and  the  Val  Barthelemy. 

Mont  Houss  (a  round-topped  snowy  siunniil,  which  seems  s<>  import- 
ant  from  Breuil,  lmt  which  is  in  reality  only  a  buttress  of  the  higher 
mountain,  the  Chateau  des  Dames)  had  long  ago  sunk,  and  the  • 
passed  over  it,  scarcely  heeding  its  existence,  to  the  Becca  Salle 
as  it  is  printed  on  the  map,  Bee  de  Sale), — a  miniature  Mattel  horn — 
and  to  other,  and  more  important  heights.  Then  the  grand  mass 
of  the  Dent  d'Hdrens  (13,714)  stopped  the  way ;  a  noble  mountain. 
encrusted  on  its  northern  slopes  with  enormous  hanging  glaciers, 
which  broke  away  at  mid-day  in  immense  slices)  and  thundered 
down  on  to  the  Tiefenmatten  Glacier;  and  lastly,  mosl  splendid  of 
all,  came  the  Dent  I'.lanehe  (14,.">18),  soaring  above  the  basin  of 
the  great  Z'Muttgletscher.  Such  a  view  is  hardly  to  be  matched 
in  the  Alps,  and  this  view  is  very  rarely  seen,  as  I  saw  it,  perfectly 
unclouded.1 

1  I  have  already  had  occasion  to  mention  the  rapid  change*  which  occur  in  the 
weather  at  considerable  elevations  in  the  Alps,  and  shall  have  to  do  so  again  in  subse- 
quent chapters.  No  one  can  regret  more  than  myself  the  variahle  weather  which 
afflicts  that  otherwise  delightful  chain  of  mountains,  or  the  necessity  of  speaking 
about  it.  Its  summits  appear  to  enjoy  more  than  their  fair  share  of  wind  and 
tenijx'sts.  Meteorological  disturbances,  it  would  seem,  are  by  no  means  necessary 
accompaniments  of  high  regions.  There  are  some  happy  places  which  are  said  to  be 
favoured  with  almost  perpetual  calm.  Take  the  case  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  of  Cali- 
fornia, for  example,  which  includes  numerous  summits  from  13,000  to  15,000  feet 
Mr.  Whitney,  of  San  Francisco,  says  (in  his  Quide-book  to  tin  FooemiU  Vulb  //.  uml  tin 
adjacent  region),  "At  high  altitudes,  all  through  the  mountains,  the  weather  during 
the  summer  is  almost  always  the  finest  ]>ossihlc  for  travelling.  There  are  occasional 
-tonus  in  the  Ugh  mountains  ;  but,  in  ordinary  seasons,  these  are  quite  rue.  and  one 
of  the  greatest  drawbacks  to  the  pleasure  of  travelling  in  the  Alps,  the  uncertainty  ol 
the  weather,  is  here  almost  entirely  wanting."  It  is  probable  thai  a  more  thorough 
acquaintance  with  that  region  will  modify  this  opinion  ;  for  it  must  be  admitted  that 
it  is  very  difficult  to  judge  of  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  at  great  heights  from  the 
valleys,  and  it  often  occurs  that  a  terrilic  storm  is  raging  above  when  then  is  I  dead 
calm  below,  at  a  distance  perhaps  of  not  more  than  three  Off  four  miles.  A  case  of  this 
kind  is  described  [n  Chapter  VII.. and  another  may  be  mentioned  here.  At  theverytime 
that  I  was  regarding  the  Dent  Blanche  from  a  height  of  18,650  feel  OB  the  Mattcrhora, 
Mr.  T.  S.  Kennedy  was  engaged  in  making  the  first  ascent  of  the  former  mountain. 
li  deaoribed  his  ascent  in  a  very  picturesque  paper  in  the. ///;/,«  Journal  (1868),  and 
I  learn  from  it  that  he  exjterienced  severe  weather.      "The  wind  roared  over  our  1  id 


chap.  v.  A  SOLITARY  BIVOUAC.  101 

Time  sped  away  unregarded,  and  the  little  birds  which  had  built 
their  nests  on  the  neighbouring  cliffs  had  begun  to  chirp  their 
evening  hymn  before  I  thought  of  returning.  Half  mechanically  1 
turned  to  the  tent,  unrolled  it,  and  set  it  up.  It  contained  food 
enough  for  several  days,  and  I  resolved  to  stay  over  the  night.  1 
had  started  from  Breuil  without  provisions,  or  telling  Favre — the 
innkeeper,  who  was  accustomed  to  my  erratic  ways — where  I  was 
going.  I  returned  to  the  view.  The  sun  was  setting,  and  its  rosy 
rays,  blending  with  the  snowy  blue,  had  thrown  a  pale,  pure  violet 
far  as  the  eye  coidd  see;  the  valleys  were  drowned  in  purple 
gloom,  whilst  the  summits  shone  with  unnatural  brightness :  and 
as  I  sat  in  the  door  of  the  tent,  and  watched  the  twilight  change 
to  darkness,  the  earth  seemed  to  become  less  earthy  and  almost 
sublime  ;  the  world  seemed  dead,  and  I,  its  sole  inhabitant.  By  and 
by,  the  moon  as  it  rose  brought  the  hills  again  into  sight,  and  by 
a  judicious  repression  of  detail  rendered  the  view  yet  more  magni- 
ficent. Something  in  the  south  hung  like  a  great  glow-worm  in  the 
air ;  it  was  too  large  for  a  star,  and  too  steady  for  a  meteor ;  and  it 
was  long  before  I  could  realise  the  scarcely  credible  fact  that  it  was 
the  moonlight  glittering  on  the  great  snow-slope  on  the  north  side 
of  Monte  Viso,  at  a  distance,  as  the  crow  flies,  of  98  miles.  Shiver- 
ing, at  last  I  entered  the  tent  and  made  my  coffee.  The  night  was 
passed  comfortably,  and  the  next  morning,  tempted  by  the  brilliancy 
of  the  weather,  I  proceeded  yet  higher  in  search  of  another  place  for 
a  platform. 

making  fearfully  wild  music  among  the  desolate  crags.  .  .  It  rendered  an  ordinary 
voice  inaudible,"  and  "nothing  at  a  distance  greater  than  fifty  yards  coidd  be  seen 
at  all.  .  .  Thick  mists  and  driving  clouds  of  snow  swept  over  and  past  us  ;  "  the 
thermometer  fell  to  20°  Fahr. ,  and  his  companion's  hair  became  a  mass  of  white  icicles. 
Now,  at  this  time,  Mr.  Kennedy  was  distant  from  me  only  four  and  a  half  miles. 
With  me,  and  in  my  immediate  neighbourhood,  the  air  was  perfectly  calm,  and  the 
temperature  was  agreeably  warm  ;  even  during  the  night  it  fell  only  two  or  three 
degrees  below  freezing-point.  During  most  of  the  day  the  Dent  Blanche  was  perfectly 
unclouded,  though,  for  a  time,  light  fleecy  clouds  were  hovering  about  its  upper  2000 
feet.  Still  no  one  would  have  supj>osed  from  ap]>earanccs  that  my  friend  was  . -\|>« -i  i 
■Ming  a  storm  such  as  he  has  descrilM-d. 


102 


Si  RAM  III.  /:>   .  I  Mi  >.\<:sT  THE  .  I  /  P& 


CHAP.  V. 


first  time. 


Solitary  scrambling  over  a  pretty  wide  area  had  shewn  me  thai 
a  single  individual  is  subjected  t<>  many  difficulties  which  do  not 

trouble  a  party  of  two  or  three  men. 
and  that  the  disadvantages  of  being 

alone  are  more  felt  while  descending 
than  during  the  ascent.  In  order 
to  neutralise  these  inconveniences,  I 
devised  two  little  appliances,  which 
were  now  brought  into  use  for  the 
One  was  a  claw — a  kind  of  grapnel 
— about  five  inches  long,  made  of  shear  steel, 
one-fifth  of  an  inch  thick.  This  was  of  use  in  difficult  places 
where  there  was  no  hold  within  anus  length,  but  where 
there  were  cracks  or  ledges  some  distance  higher.  The 
(law  could  be  stuck  on  the  end  of  the  alpenstock  and  dropped  into 
such  places,  or,  on  extreme  occasions,  flung  up  until  it  attached  itself 
to  something.  The  edges  that  laid  hold  of  the  rocks  were  serrated, 
which  tended  to  make  them  catch  more  readily,  and  the  other  end 

had  a  ring  to  which  a  rope  was  fastened.    It  must  not  bounders! 1 

that  this  was  employed  for  hauling  one's-self  up  for  any  great  dis- 
tance, but  that  it  was  used  in  ascending,  at  the  most,  for  only  a  few 
yards  at  a  time.  In  descending,  however,  it  could  be  prudently 
used  for  a  greater  distance  at  a  time,  as  the  claws  could  be  planted 
firmly;  but  it  was  necessary  to  keep  the  rope  taut,  and  the  pull 
constantly  in  the  direction  of  the  length  of  the  implement,  other- 
wise it  had  a  tendency  to  slip  away.  The  second  device  was 
merely  a  modification  of  a  dodge  practised  by  all  (limbers.  It  is 
often  necessary  for  a  solitary  climber(or  for  the  List  man  of  a  party 
during  a  descent)  to  make  a  loop  in  the  end  of  his  rope,  to  pass 
it  over  some  rocks,  and  to  come  down  holding  the  free  end.  Tin- 
loop  is  then  jerked  off,  and  the  process  may  he  repeated.  Bui  as 
it  sometimes  happens  that  there  are  no  rocks  at  hand  which  will 
allow  a  loose  loop  to  be  used,  a  slip-knot  has  to  he  resorted  to,  and 
the  rope  is  drawn  in  tightly.    Consequently, il  will  occur  that  it  is 


thai-,  v.  ON  AIDS  TO  0LIMBBR8.  103 

not  possible  to  jerk  the  loop  off,  and  the  rope  has  to  be  cut  ami  Left 
behind.  To  prevent  this,  I  hud  a  wrought" 
iron  ling  (two  ami  a  quarter  inches  in  dia- 
meter and  three  eighths  of  an  inch  thick 
attached  to  one  end  of  my  rope.  A  loop 
could  be  made  in  a  moment  by  passing  the 
other  end  of  the  rope  through  this  ring,  which 
of  course  slipped  up  and  held  tightly  as  I 
descended  holding  the  free  end.  A  strong 
piece  of  cord  was  also  attached  to  the  ring, 
and,  on  arriving  at  the  bottom,  this  was 
pulled;  the  ring  slid  back  again,  and  the 
loop  was  whipped  off  readily.  By  means  of 
these  two  simple  appliances  I  was  able  to 
ascend  and  descend  rocks,  which  otherwise 
would    have    been   completely   impassable. 

The  combined  weight  of  these  two  things  amounted  to  less  than 
half-a-pound. 

It  has  been  mentioned  (p.  85)  that  the  rocks  of  the  south-west 
ridge  are  by  no  means  difficult  for  some  distance  above  the  Col  du 
Lion.  This  is  true  of  them  up  to  the  level  of  the  Chimney,  but 
they  steepen  when  that  is  passed,  and  remaining  smooth  and  with 
but  few  fractures,  and  still  continuing  to  dip  outwards,  present  some 
steps  of  a  very  uncertain  kind,  particularly  when  they  are  glazed 
with  ice.  At  tliis  point  (just  above  the  Chimney)  the  climber  is 
obliged  to  follow  the  southern  (or  Breuil)  side  of  the  ridge,  but,  in  a 
few  feet  more,  one  must  turn  over  to  the  northern  (or  Z'Mutt)  side, 
where,  in  most  years,  nature  kindly  provides  a  snow-slope.  When 
this  is  surmounted,  one  can  again  return  to  the  crest  of  the  ridge, 
and  follow  it,  by  easy  rocks,  to  the  foot  of  the  Great  Tower.  This 
was  the  highest  point  attained  by  Mr.  Hawkins  in  18G0,  and  it 
was  also  our  highest  on  the  9th  of  July. 

This  Great  Tower  is  one  of  the  most  striking  features  of  the  ridge. 
It  stands  out  like  a  turret  at  the  angle  of  a  castle.     Behind  it  a 


104  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  Airs.  chap. v. 

battlemented  wall  leads  upwards  to  the  cit&deL1  Seen  from  the 
Theodole  pass  it  Looks  only  an  insignificant  pinnacle,  but  as  one 
approaches  it  (on  the  ridge) so  it  seems  to  rise,  and,  when  one  is  at 
its  base,  it  completely  conceals  the  upper  parts  of  the  mountain. 
1  found  here  a  suitable  place  for  the  tent;  which,  although  not  bo 
well  protected  as  the  second  platform,  possessed  the  advante 
being  300  feet  higher  up;  and  fascinated  by  the  wildness  of  the 
dill's,  and  enticed  by  the  perfection  of  the  weather,  1  went  on  to 
see  what  was  behind. 

The  first  step  was  a  difficult  one.  The  ridge  became  diminished 
to  the  least  possible  width — it  was  hard  to  keep  one's  balance — and 
just  where  it  was  narrowest,  a  more  than  perpendicular  mass  barred 
the  way.  Nothing  fairly  within  arm's  reach  could  be  laid  hold  of; 
it  was  necessary  to  spring  up,  and  then  to  haul  ones-sell'  over  the 
sharp  edge  by  sheer  strength.  Progression  directly  upwards  was 
then  impossible.  Enormous  and  appalling  precipices  plunged 
down  to  the  Tiefenmatten  Glacier  on  the  left,  but  round  the  right- 
hand  side  it  was  just  possible  to  go.  (  me  hindrance  then  succeeded 
another,  and  much  time  was  consumed  in  seeking  a  way.  1  have 
a  vivid  recollection  of  a  gully  of  more  than  usual  perplexity  at  the 
Bide  of  the  ( rieat  Tower,  with  minute  ledges  and  steep  walls  :  of  the 
ledges  dwindling  away  and  at  last  ceasing;  and  of  finding  myself, 
with  arms  and  legs  divergent,  fixed  as  if  crucified,  pressing  against 
the  rock,  and  feeling  each  rise  and  fall  of  my  chest  as  I  breathed  : 
Of  Screwing  my  head  pound  to  look  for  hold,  ami  not  seeing  any,  and 
of  jumping  sideways  on  to  the  other  side.  Tis  vain  to  attempt  td 
describe  such  places.  Whether  they  are  sketched  with  a  light 
hand,  or  wrought  out  in  laborious  detail,  one  stands  an  equal  chance 
of  being  misunderstood  Their  enchantment  to  the  climber  arises 
from  their  calls  on  his  faculties,  in  their  demands  on  his  strength, 
and  on  overcoming  the  impediments  which  they  oppose  to  his  skill. 
The  non-inountaincering  reader  cannot  feel  this, and  his  interest  in 
descriptions  of  such  places  is  usually  small,  unless  he  BUpposes  that 

1  See  the  engraving  "Crags  of  the  Muttrrlmni, "  being  \>.  162. 


chap.  v.  CLIMBING  ON  THE  'CRETE  DU  COQ.'  105 

the  situations  are  perilous.  They  are  not  necessarily  perilous,  but 
I  think  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  giving  such  an  impression  if  the 
difficulties  are  particularly  insisted  upon. 

There  was  a  change  in  the  quality  of  the  rock,  and  there  was  a 
change  in  the  appearance  of  the  ridge.  The  rocks  (talcose  gneiss) 
below  this  spot  were  singularly  firm ;  it  was  rarely  necessary  to 
test  one's  hold ;  the  way  led  over  the  living  rock,  and  not  up  rent- 
off  fragments.  But  here,  all  was  decay  and  ruin.  The  crest  of  the 
ridge  was  shattered  and  cleft,  and  the  feet  sank  in  the  chips  which 
had  drifted  down  ;  while  above,  huge  blocks,  hacked  and  carved  by 
the  hand  of  time,  nodded  to  the  sky,  looking  like  the  grave-stones 
of  giants.  Out  of  curiosity  I  wandered  to  a  notch  in  the  ridge, 
between  two  tottering  piles  of  immense  masses,  which  seemed  to 
need  but  a  few  pounds  on  one  or  the  other  side  to  make  them  fall : 
so  nicely  poised  that  they  would  literally  have  rocked  in  the  wind, 
for  they  were  put  in  motion  by  a  touch ;  and  based  on  support  so 
frail  that  I  wondered  they  did  not  collapse  before  my  eyes.  In  the 
whole  range  of  my  Alpine  experience  I  have  seen  nothing  more  strik- 
ing than  this  desolate,  ruined,  and  shattered  ridge  at  the  back  of  the 
Great  Tower.  I  have  seen  stranger  shapes, — rocks  which  mimic  the 
human  form,  with  monstrous  leering  faces — and  isolated  pinnacles, 
sharper  and  greater  than  any  here ;  but  I  have  never  seen  exhibited 
so  impressively  the  tremendous  effects  which  may  be  produced  by 
frost,  and  by  the  long-continued  action  of  forces  whose  individual 
effects  are  imperceptible. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  it  is  impossible  to  climb  by  the 
crest  of  the  ridge  at  this  part;  still  one  is  compelled  to  keep 
near  to  it,  for  there  is  no  other  way.  Generally  speaking,  the 
angles  on  the  Matterhorn  are  too  steep  to  allow  the  formation 
of  considerable  beds  of  snow,  but  here  there  is  a  corner  winch 
permits  it  to  accumulate,  and  it  is  turned  to  gratefully,  for, 
by  its  assistance,  one  can  ascend  four  times  as  rapidly  as  upon 
the  rocks. 

The  Tower  was  now  almost  out  of  sight,  and  I  looked  over 

p 


106  SL'liAMIiLKS  AMUNOST  THE  A  LIS.  OBAP.  v. 

the  central  Pennine  Alps  to  the  (J rand  ( '« unbin,  and  to  the  chain 
of  Mont  Blanc.    My  neighbour,  the  Dent  d'Herens,  still  rose  above 

me,  although  but  slightly,  and  the  height  which  had  been  attained 
could  be  measured  by  its  help.  So  far,  I  had  no  doubts  about  my 
capacity  to  descend  that  which  had  been  ascended;  but,  in  a  short 
time, on  looking  ahead,  1  saw  that  the  dill's  steepened,  and  1  turned 
back  (without  pushing  on  to  them,  and  getting  into  Inextricable 
difficulties),  exulting  in  the  thought  that  they  would  be  passed 
when  we  returned  together,  and  that  I  had,  without  assistance, 
got  nearly  to  the  height  of  the  Dent  d'Herens,  and  considerably 
higher  than  any  one  had  been  before.1  My  exultation  was  a 
little  premature. 

About  5  P.M.  I  left  the  tent  again,  and  thought  myself  as  good 
as  at  Breuil.  The  friendly  rope  and  claw  had  done  good  service, 
and  had  snioothened  all  the  difficulties.  I  lowered  myself  through 
the  Chimney,  however,  by  making  a  fixture  of  the  rope,  which  I 
then  cut  off,  and  left  behind,  as  there  was  enough  and  to  spare. 
My  axe  had  proved  a  great  nuisance  in  coming  down,  and  I  left  it 
in  the  tent.  It  was  not  attached  to  the  baton,  but  was  a  separate 
affair, — an  old  navy  boarding-axe  While  cutting  up  the  different 
snow-beds  on  the  ascent,  the  baton  trailed  behind  fastened  to  the 
tope  :  and,  when  climbing,  the  axe  was  carried  behind,  run  through 
the  rope  tied  round  my  waist,  and  was  sufficiently  out  of  the  way ; 
but  in  descending,  when  coming  down  face  outwards  (as  is  always 
best  where  it  is  possible),  the  head  or  the  handle  of  the  weapon 
(aught  frequently  against  the  rocks,  and  several  times  nearly  upset 
me.  So,  out  of  laziness  if  you  will,  it  was  left  in  the  tent.  1  paid 
dearly  for  the  imprudence. 

The  Col  du  Lion  was  passed,  and  fifty  yards  more  would  have 
placed  me  on  the  "  Great  Staircase,"  down  which  one  can  run.    But 

1  A  remarkable  streak  of  snow  (marked  "eravate"  in  the  outline  of  tin  Mutt,  t- 
horn,  as  seen  from  the  Theodule)  runs  across  the  cliir  at  this  jwut  of  the  mountain. 
My  highest  point  was  somewhat  higher  than  the  lowest  part  of  this  snow,  and  was 
consequently  nearly  13,500  feet  above  the  sea. 


"  THE  CHIMNEY.  " 
(on  the  sooth-west  ridge  of  the  matterhorn). 


chap.  v.  THE  CAUSE.  107 

on  arriving  at  an  angle  of  the  cliffs  of  the  Tete  du  Lion,  while 
skirting  the  upper  edge  of  the  snow  which  abuts  against  them,  I 
found  that  the  heat  of  the  two  past  days  had  nearly  obliterated  the 
steps  which  had  been  cut  when  coming  up.  The  rocks  happened 
to  be  impracticable  just  at  this  corner,  and  it  was  necessary 
to  make  the  steps  afresh.  The  snow  was  too  hard  to  beat  or 
tread  down,  and  at  the  angle  it  was  all  but  ice ;  half-a-dozen 
steps  only  were  required,  and  then  the  ledges  could  be  followed 
again.  So  I  held  to  the  rock  with  my  right  hand,  and  prodded 
at  the  snow  with  the  point  of  my  stick  until  a  good  step  was 
made,  and  then,  leaning  round  the  angle,  did  the  same  for  the 
other  side.  So  far  well,  but  in  attempting  to  pass  the  corner 
(to  the  present  moment  I  cannot  tell  how  it  happened),  I  slipped 
and  fell. 

The  slope  was  steep  on  which  this  took  place,  and  was  at  the 
top  of  a  gully  that  led  down  through  two  subordinate  buttresses 
towards  the  Glacier  du  Lion — which  was  just  seen,  a  thousand  feet 
below.  The  gully  narrowed  and  narrowed,  until  there  was  a  mere 
thread  of  snow  lying  between  two  walls  of  rock,  which  came  to  an 
abrupt  termination  at  the  top  of  a  precipice  that  intervened  be- 
tween it  and  the  glacier.  Imagine  a  funnel  cut  in  half  through  its 
length,  placed  at  an  angle  of  45  degrees,  with  its  point  below  and 
its  concave  side  uppermost,  and  you  will  have  a  fair  idea  of  the 
place. 

The  knapsack  brought  my  head  down  first,  and  I  pitched  into 
some  rocks  about  a  dozen  feet  below ;  they  caught  something  and 
tumbled  me  off  the  edge,  head  over  heels,  into  the  gully ;  the 
baton  was  dashed  from  my  hands,  and  I  whirled  downwards  in  a 
series  of  bounds,  each  longer  than  the  last ;  now  over  ice,  now  into 
rocks;  striking  my  head  four  or  five  times,  each  time  with  in- 
creased force.  The  last  bound  sent  me  spinning  through  the  air, 
in  a  leap  of  fifty  or  sixty  feet,  from  one  side  of  the  gully  t<>  the 
Other,  and  I  struck  the  rocks,  luckily,  with  the  whole  of  niv  lHt 
Bide.     They  caught  my  clothes  for  a  moment,  and  I  fell  back  on  to 


108  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  v. 

the  snow  with  motion  arrested.     My  head  fortunately  came  the 

right  side  up,  and  a  few  frantic  catches  brought  DM  to  a  halt,  in  the 
neck  of  the  gully,  and  on  the  verge  of  the  precipice.  Baton,  hat, 
and  veil  skimmed  by  and  disappeared,  and  the  crash  of  the  rocks — 
which  I  had  started — as  they  fell  on  to  the  glacier,  told  how  narrow 
had  l)een  the  escape  from  utter  destruction.  As  it  was,  I  fell 
nearly  200  feet  in  seven  or  eight  bounds.  Ten  feet  more  won  hi 
have  taken  me  in  one  gigantic  leap  of  800  feet  on  to  the  glacier 
below. 

The  situation  was  sufficiently  serious.  The  rocks  could  not 
be  let  go  for  a  moment,  and  the  blood  was  spirting  out  of  more 
than  twenty  cuts.  The  most  serious  ones  were  in  the  head,  and 
I  vainly  tried  to  close  them  with  one  hand,  whilst  holding  on 
with  the  other.  It  was  useless;  the  blood  jerked  out  in  blinding 
jets  at  each  pulsation.  At  last,  in  a  moment  of  inspiration,  I 
kicked  out  a  big  lump  of  snow,  and  stuck  it  as  a  plaster  on  my 
head.  The  idea  was  a  happy  one,  and  the  flow  of  blood  dimi- 
nished. Then,  scrambling  up,  I  got,  not  a  moment  too  soon,  to 
a  place  of  safety,  and  fainted  away.  The  sun  was  setting  when 
consciousness  returned,  and  it  was  pitch  dark  before  the  Great 
Staircase  was  descended;  but,  by  a  combination  of  luck  and  care. 
the  whole  4900  feet  of  descent  to  Breuil  was  accomplished  without 
a  slip,  or  once  missing  the  way.  I  slunk  past  the  cabin  of  the 
cowherds,  who  were  talking  and  laughing  inside,  utterly  ashamed 
of  the  state  to  which  I  had  been  brought  by  my  imbecility,  and 
entered  the  inn  stealthily,  wishing  to  escape  to  my  room  un- 
noticed. But  Favre  met  me  in  the  passage,  demanded  "  Who  is 
it?"  screamed  with  fright  when  he  got  a  light,  and  aroused  the 
household.  Two  dozen  heads  then  held  solemn  council  over  mine, 
with  more  talk  than  action.  The  natives  were  unanimous  in  re- 
commending that  hot  wine  mixed  with  wilt  should  be  rubbed 
into  the  cuts.  I  protested,  but  they  insisted.  It  was  all  the 
doctoring  they  received.  "Whether  their  rapid  healing  was  to  be 
attributed  to  that  simple  remedy,  or  to  a  good  state  of  health. 


"IN  ATTEMPTING  TO  PASS  THE  CORNER  I  SLIPPED  ANO  FELL." 


CHA1'.    V. 


THE  EFFECT. 


109 


is  a  question.     They  closed  up  remarkably  quickly,  and  in  a  few 
days  I  was  able  to  move  again.1 

It  was  sufficiently  dull  during  this  time.     I  was  chiefly  occu- 
pied in  meditating  on  the  vanity  of  human  wishes,  and  in  watching 


AT    BKEIII.   (gIOMEIN). 


my  clothes  being  washed  in  the  tub  which  was  turned  by  the 
stream  in  the  front  of  the  house ;  and  I  vowed  that  if  an  English- 
man should  at  any  time  fall  sick  in  the  Yal  Tournanche,  he  should 
not  feel  so  solitary  as  I  did  at  this  dreary  time.2 

1  I  received  much  attention  from  a  kind  English  lady  (Mrs.  J.  H.  Daniell) 
who  was  staying  in  the  inn. 

2  As  it  seldom  happens  that  one  survives  such  a  fall,  it  may  he  interesting  to 
record  what  my  sensations  were  during  its  occurrence.  I  was  perfectly  conscious 
of  what  was  happening,  and  felt  each  blow  ;  but,  like  a  patient  under  chloro- 
form, experienced  no  pain.  Each  blow  was,  naturally,  more  severe  than  that  which 
preceded  it,  and  I  distinctly  remember  thinking,  "Well,  if  the  next  is  harder  still, 
that  will  be  the  end  !  "  Like  persons  who  have  been  rescued  from  drowning,  I 
remember  that  the  recollection  of  a  multitude  of  things  rushed  through  my  held, 
many  of  them  trivialities  or  absurdities,  which  had  been  forgotten  long  before  ;  and, 
more  remarkable,  this  bounding  through  space  did  not  feel  disagreeable.  But  I 
think  that  in  no  very  great  distance  more,  consciousness  as  well  as  sensation  would 
have  been  lost,  and  upon  that  I  base  my  belief,  improbable  as  it  Mem,  that  death  by 
a  fall  from  a  great  haighl  is  u  painless  an  end  as  ran  be  experienced. 

The  battering  was  very  rough,  yet  no  bonee  were  broken.  The  most  severe  cuts 
were  one  of  four  inches  long  on  the  top  of  the  head,  and  another  of  three  inches  «>n  t  lie 


1 1 0  80BA  KB  /.  IS  AMO  m  :s  T  THE  A  1 1 »  cha  p.  f . 

The  news  of  this  accident  brought  Jean-Antoine  Carrel  up  to 

r.ivuil,  and  along  with  the  haughty  chasseur  came  one  of  his 
relatives,  a  strong  and  able  young  fellow  named  Caesar.  \Yitli 
these  two  men  and  Meynet  I  made,  another  start  on  the  23rd  of 
July.  We  got  to  the  tent  without  any  trouble,  and  on  the  following 
day  had  ascended  beyond  the  Tower,  and  were  picking  our  way 
cautiously  over  the  loose  rocks  behind  (where  my  traces  of  the 
week  before  were  well  apparent)  in  lovely  weather,  when  one  of 
those  abominable  and  almost  instantaneous  changes  occurred,  to 
which  the  Matterhorn  is  so  liable  on  its  southern  side.  Mists 
were  created  out  of  invisible  vapours,  and  in  a  few  minutes  snow 
fell  heavily.  We  stopped,  as  this  part  was  exceedingly  difficult, 
and,  unwilling  to  retreat,  remained  on  the  spot  several  hours,  in 
hopes  that  another  change  would  occur ;  but,  as  it  did  not,  we  at 
length  went  down  to  the  base  of  the  Great  Tower,  and  commenced 
to  make  a  third  platform,  at  the  height  of  12,992  feet  above  the  sea. 
It  still  continued  to  snow,  and  we  took  refuge  in  the  tent.  Carre] 
argued  that  the  weather  had  broken  up,  and  that  the  mount  a  in 
would  become  so  glazed  with  ice  as  to  render  any  attempt  futile ; 
and  I,  that  the  change  was  only  temporary,  and  that  the  rocks 
were  too  hot  to  allow  ice  to  form  upon  them.  I  wished  to  stay 
until  the  weather  improved,  but  my  leader  would  not  endure  con- 
tradiction, grew  more  positive,  and  insisted  that  we  must  go  down. 
We  went  down,  and  when  we  got  below  the  Col  his  opinion  was 
found  to  be  wrong;  the  cloud  was  confined  to  the  upper  3000  feet, 
and  outside  it  there  was  brilliant  weather. 

right  temple:  this  latter  bled  frightfully.  There  was  a  formidable-looking  out,  "I 
about  the  same  size  as  the  last,  on  the  (aim  of  the  left  hand,  and  every  limb  was 
grazed,  or  cut,  more  or  less  seriously.  The  tips  of  the  cars  wen'  taken  off,  and  I  sharp 
rock  cut  a  circular  bit  out  of  the  side  of  the  left  l>oot,  soek,  and  ankle,  al  one  stroke. 
The  loss  of  blood,  although  so  great,  did  not  seem  to  be  permanently  injurious.  The 
only  serious  effect  has  been  the  reduction  of  a  naturally  retentive  memory  t<> 
ciminionplace  one;  and  although  my  recollect  inns  of  more  distant  OOOnrreni 
main  unshaken,  th<-  events  of  that  particular  day  would  be  clean  gone  bul  for  the 
few  notes  which  were  written  down  before  the  accident. 


.hap .  v.    Wit  FOURTH  ATTEMPT  ON  THE  MATTERHoRN.       Ill 

(  tirel  was  not  an  easy  man  to  manage.  He  was  perfectly 
aware  that  he  was  the  cock  of  the  Val  Tournanche,  and  he  com- 
manded the  other  men  as  by  right.  He  was  equally  conscious  that 
he  was  indispensable  to  me,  and  took  no  pains  to  conceal  his  know- 
ledge of  the  fact.  If  he  had  been  commanded,  or  if  he  had  been 
entreated  to  stop,  it  would  have  been  all  the  same.  But,  let  me 
repeat,  he  was  the  only  first-rate  climber  I  could  find  who  believed 
that  the  mountain  was  not  inaccessible.  With  him  I  had  hopes, 
but  without  him  none ;  so  he  was  allowed  to  do  as  he  would.  His 
will  on  this  occasion  was  almost  incomprehensible.  He  certainly 
could  not  be  charged  with  cowardice,  for  a  bolder  man  could  hardly 
be  found ;  nor  was  he  turning  away  on  account  of  difficulty,  for 
nothing  to  which  we  had  yet  come  seemed  to  be  difficult  to  him ; 
and  his  strong  personal  desire  to  make  the  ascent  was  evident. 
There  was  no  occasion  to  come  down  on  account  of  food,  for  we  had 
taken,  to  guard  against  this  very  casualty,  enough  to  last  for  a  week  ; 
and  there  was  no  danger,  and  little  or  no  discomfort,  in  stopping  in 
the  tent.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he  was  spinning  out  the  ascent  for 
his  own  purposes,  and  that  although  he  wished  very  much  to  be 
the  first  man  on  the  top,  and  did  not  object  to  be  accompanied  by 
any  one  else  who  had  the  same  wish,  he  had  no  intention  of  letting 
one  succeed  too  soon, — perhaps  to  give  a  greater  appearance  of  Mat 
when  the  thing  was  accomplished.  As  he  feared  no  rival,  he  may 
have  supposed  that  the  more  difficulties  he  made  the  more  valuable 
he  would  be  estimated ;  though,  to  do  him  justice,  he  never  shewed 
any  great  hunger.for  money.  His  demands  were  fair,  not  excessive ; 
but  he  always  stipulated  for  so  much  per  day,  and  so,  under  any 
circumstances,  he  did  not  do  badly. 

Vexed  at  having  my  time  thus  frittered  away,  I  was  still  well 
pleased  when  he  volunteered  to  start  again  on  the  morrow,  if  it  was 
tiii**.  We  were  to  advance  the  tent  to  the  foot  of  the  Tower,  to 
fix  ropes  in  the  most  difficult  parts  beyond,  and  to  make  a  push  for 
the  summit  on  the  following  day. 

The  next  morning  (Friday  the  25th)  when  I  arose,  good  little 


ii--'  80SAMBLS8  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chai   ▼. 

If evnet  was  ready  and  waiting,  and  In-  saiil  that  tin-  two  Carrelfl 
had  gone  off  some  time  before,  and  bad  left  word  that  they  intended 

nianiiot-liuntiiiur,  as  the  dav  was  favourable  for  that  sport.1  My 
holiday  had  nearly  expired,  and  these  men  clearly  could  not  be 
relied  upon;  so,  as  a  last  resort,  I  proposed  to  the  hunchback  to 
accompany  me  alone,  to  see  if  we  could  not  get  higher  than  before, 
though  of  reaching  the  summit  there  was  little  or  no  hope.  He 
did  not  hesitate,  and  in  a  few  hours  we  stood — for  the  third  time 
together — upon  the  Col  du  Lion.  It  was  the  first  time  Meynet 
had  seen  the  view  unclouded.  The  poor  little  deformed  peasant 
gazed  upon  it  silently  and  reverently  for  a  time,  and  then,  un- 
consciously, fell  on  one  knee  in  an  attitude  of  adoration,  and 
clasped  his  hands,  exclaiming  in  ecstasy,  "  Oh,  beautiful  mount- 
ains!" His  actions  were  as  appropriate  as  his  words  were 
natural,  and  tears  bore  witness  to  the  reality  of  his  emotion. 

Our  power  was  too  limited  to  advance  the  tent,  so  we  slept  at 
the  old  station,  and  starting  very  early  the  next  morning,  passed 
the  place  where  we  had  turned  back  on  the  24th,  and,  subse- 
quently, my  highest  point  on  the  19th.  We  found  the  crest  of  the 
ridge  so  treacherous  that  we  took  to  the  cliffs  on  the  right,  although 
most  unwillingly.  Little  by  little  we  fought  our  way  up,  but  at 
length  we  were  both  spread-eagled  on  the  all  but  perpendicular 
face,  unable  to  advance,  and  barely  able  to  descend.  We  returned 
to  the  ridge.  It  was  almost  equally  difficult,  and  infinitely  more 
unstable ;  and  at  length,  after  having  pushed  our  attempts  as  far 
as  was  prudent,  I  determined  to  return  to  Breuil,  and  to  have  a 
light  ladder  made  to  assist  us  to  overcome  some  of  the  steepest 
parts.2  I  expected,  too,  that  by  this  time  Carrel  would  have  had 
enough  marmot-hunting,  and  would  deign  to  accompany  us  again. 

1  An  incident  like  this  goes  far  to  make  one  look  favourably  ujion  the  riglt  m  WU 
of  Chamounix  and  other  places.  This  could  not  have  occurred  at  Chaiiioiinix,  nur 
lure,   if  there  had  been  a  hMWM  (/,s  g aides. 

3  This  appeared  to  be  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  mountain.  One  was  driven 
to  keep  to  the  edge  of  the  ridge,  or  very  near  to  it ;  and  at  the  point  where  we  tamed 
back  (which  was  almost  as  high  as  the  highest  part  of  the  "  cravatc,"  and  ]>erhaps 


chap.  v.  PROFESSOR  TYNDALL  TRIES  AGAIN.  113 

We  came  down  at  a  great  pace,  for  we  were  now  so  familial 
with  the  mountain,  and  with  each  other's  wants,  that  we  knew  im- 
mediately when  to  give  a  helping  hand,  and  when  to  let  alone. 
The  rocks  also  were  in  a  better  state  than  I  had  ever  seen  them, 
being  almost  entirely  free  from  glaze  of  ice.  Meynet  was  always 
merriest  on  the  difficult  parts,  and,  upon  the  most  difficult,  kept 
on  enunciating  the  sentiment,  "  We  can  only  die  once,"  a  thought 
which  seemed  to  afford  him  infinite  satisfaction.  We  arrived  at 
the  inn  early  in  the  evening,  and  I  found  my  projects  summarily 
and  unexpectedly  knocked  on  the  head. 

Professor  Tyndall  had  arrived  while  we  were  absent,  and  had 
engaged  both  Csesar  and  Jean-Antoine  Carrel.  Bennen  was  also 
with  him,  together  with  a  powerful  and  active  friend,  a  Valaisan 
guide,  named  Anton  Walter.  They  had  a  ladder  already  pre- 
pared, provisions  were  being  collected,  and  they  intended  to  start 
on  the  following  morning  (Sunday).  This  new  arrival  took  me 
by  surprise.  Bennen,  it  will  be  remembered,  refused  point-blank 
to  take  Professor  Tyndall  on  the  Matterhorn  in  1861.  "  He 
was  dead  against  any  attempt  on  the  mountain,"  says  Tyndall. 
He  was  now  eager  to  set  out.  Professor  Tyndall  has  not  explained 
in  what  way  this  revolution  came  about  in  his  guide.  I  was 
equally  astonished  at  the  faithlessness  of  Carrel,  and  attributed  it 
to  pique  at  our  having  presumed  to  do  without  him.  It  was 
useless  to  compete  with  the  Professor  and  his  four  men,  who 
were  ready  to  start  in  a  few  hours,  so  I  waited  to  see  what  would 
come  of  their  attempt. 

Everything  seemed  to  favour  it,  and  they  set  out  on  a  fine 
morning  in  high  spirits,  leaving  me  tormented  with  envy  and  all 
uncharitableness.  If  they  succeeded,  they  carried  off  the  prize  for 
which  I  had  been  so  long  struggling ;  and  if  they  failed,  there  was 

100  feet  higher  than  my  scramble  on  the  19th)  there  were  smooth  walls  seven  or 
ei^ht  feet  lii^h  in  every  direction,  which  were  impassable  to  a  single  man,  and  which 
could  only  l>e  surmounted  by  the  assistance  of  ladders,  or  by  using  one's  comrades  as 
Udders. 


114  SCRAMBLES  AM0NQ8T  THE  ALPS.  ohap.v. 

do  time  to  make  another  attempt,  for  I  was  due  in  a  few  days  more 

in  London.  When  this  came  home  clearly  to  me,  I  resolved  t" 
leave  Brenil  at  once,  but,  when  packing  up,  found  thai  some  u& 

sillies  had  been  left  behind  iii  the  tent.  So  I  went  off  about  mid- 
day to  recover  them;  caught  the  army  of  the  Professor  before  it 
reached  the  Col,  as  they  were  going  very  slowly;  left  them  there 
(stopping  to  take  food),  and  went  on  to  the  tent.  1  was  near  t<>  it 
when  all  at  once  I  heard  a  noise  aloft,  and,  on  looking  up,  perceived 
a  stone  of  at  least  a  foot  cube  flying  straight  at  my  head.  1  ducked. 
and  scrambled  under  the  lee  side  of  a  friendly  rock,  while  the  missile 
went  by  with  a  loud  buzz.  It  was  the  advanced  guard  of  a  perfect 
storm  of  stones,  which  descended  with  infernal  clatter  down  the  very 
edge  of  the  ridge,  leaving  a  trail  of  dust  behind,  with  a  strong  smell 
of  sulphur,  that  told  who  had  sent  them.  The  men  below  were  on 
the  look-out,  but  the  stones  did  not  come  near  them,  and  breaking 
away  on  one  side  descended  to  the  glacier.1 

I  waited  at  the  tent  to  welcome  the  Professor,  and  when  he 
arrived  went  down  to  Breuil.  Early  next  morning  some  one  ran  to 
me  saying  that  a  Hag  was  seen  on  the  summit  of  the  Matterhora 
It  was  not  so,  however,  although  I  saw  that  they  had  passed  the 
place  where  we  had  turned  back  on  the  26th.  I  had  now  no  doubt 
of  their  final  success,  for  they  had  got  beyond  the  point  which 
Carrel,  not  less  than  myself,  had  always  considered  to  be  the  most 
questionable  place  on  the  whole  mountain.  Up  to  it  there  was  no 
choice  of  route.  I  suppose  that  at  no  one  point  between  it  and  tin- 
Col  was  it  possible  to  diverge  a  dozen  paces  to  the  right  or  left  . 

1   Professor  Tyinliill  describes  this  im-idcut   in  tin-  following  words ;     "Wfl  had 
gathered  up  oar  traps,  awl  bent  to  tin*  work  before  us,  when  suddenly  en  explosion 
ooonrred  overhead.     We  Looked  aloft  ami  saw  in  mid-sir  a  solid  shot  from  the  Mai 
terhorn  describing  its  proper  parabola,  and  finally  splitting  into  fragments  is  it  smote 

•  >i f  the  rm  ky  towers  in  front.      Down  the  shattered  fragments  came  like  a  kiml  of 

spray,  slightly  wide  of  US,  Mil  still  near  enough  toOOmpel  B  sharp  look-out.      Twooi 

three  sneh  explosions  occurred,  but  we  chose  the  hack  tin  of  the  mountain  for  our 

k.  and  from  this  the  falling  stones  were  speedily  deflected  right  or  \rft."  —Suh/r- 
./<"/  Review,  Aug.  8,  1863.     Reprinted  in  MaemOltmU  Magcurim*,  April  1869. 


A  CANNONADE  ON  THE  MAIIERHORN  (1862). 


TYNHALL   REACHES  'THE  SIH'ULDBR. 


1 1  r> 


lmt  beyond  it  it  was  otherwise,  and  we  had  always  agreed,  In  our 
debates,  thai  if  it  could  lie  passed  success  was  certain.  The  accom- 
panying outline  from  a  sketch  taken  from  the  door  of  the  inn  at 
Breuil  will  help  to  explain.  The  letter  A  indicates  the  position  of 
the  Great  Tower;  C  the  "cravate"  (the  strongly-marked  streak  of 
snow  referred  to  on  p.  112  which  we  just  failed  to  arrive  at  on  the 


20th);  B  the  place  where  we  now  saw  something  that  looked 
like  a  Hag.  Behind  the  point  B  a  nearly  level  ridge  leads  up  to  the 
foot  of  the  final  peak.  This  will  be  understood  by  a  reference  to 
the  outline  facing  p.  74,  where  the  same  letters  indicate  the 
same  places.  It  was  just  now  said,  we  considered  that  if  the  point 
C  could  be  passed,  success  was  certain.  Tyndall  was  at  B  very 
early  in  the  morning,  and  I  did  not  doubt  that  he  would  reach  the 
summit,  although  it  yet  remained  problematical  whether  he  would 
'"■  able  to  stand  on  the  very  highest  point.  The  summit  was  evi- 
dently formed  of  a  long  ridge,  on  which  there  were  two  points 
nearly  equally  elevated — so  equally  that  one  could  not  say  which 
was  the  highest — and  between  the  two  there  seemed  to  be  a  deep 


116  SriiAMHLKS  AMiiXCST   THE  AU'S.  I  IHAP.  v. 

notch,  marked  d  on  the  outlines,  which  might  defeat  one  at  the 
very  last  moment 

My  knapsack  was  packed,  and  1  had  drunk  a  parting  glass  of 
wine  with  Havre,  who  was  jubilant  at  the  success  which  was  to 
make  the  fortune  of  his  inn  ;  but  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  leave 
until  the  result  was  heard,  and  lingered  about,  as  a  foolish  lover 
hovers  round  the  object  of  his  affections,  even  after  he  has  been 
contemptuously  rejected.  The  sun  had  set  before  the  men  were 
descried  coming  over  the  pastures.  There  was  no  spring  in  their 
steps — they,  too,  were  defeated.  The  Carrels  hid  their  heads,  and 
the  others  said,  as  men  will  do  when  they  have  been  beaten,  that 
the  mountain  was  horrible,  impossible,  and  so  forth.  Professor 
Tyndall  told  me  they  had  arrived  within  a  stones  throw  of  the  sum- 
mit, and  admonished  me  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  the 
mountain.  I  understood  him  to  say  that  he  should  not  try  again, 
and  ran  down  to  the  village  of  Val  Tournanche,  almost  inclined  to 
believe  that  the  mountain  was  inaccessible ;  leaving  the  tent,  ropes, 
and  other  matters  in  the  hands  of  Favre,  to  be  placed  at  the  dis- 
posal of  any  person  who  wished  to  ascend  it,  more,  I  am  afraid, 
out  of  irony  than  for  generosity.  There  may  have  been  those  who 
believed  that  the  Matterhorn  could  be  ascended,  but,  anyhow,  their 
faith  did  not  bring  forth  works.     No  one  tried  again  in  1862. 

Business  took  me  into  Dauphine  before  returning  to  London, 
and  a  week  after  Tyndall's  defeat  I  lay  one  night,  after  a  sultry  day. 
half-asleep,  tossing  about  in  one  of  the  abominations  which  served 
for  beds  in  the  inn  kept  by  the  Deputy-Mayor  of  La  Ville  de  Val 
Louise;  looking  at  a  strange  ruddiness  on  the  ceiling,  which  I 
thought  might  be  some  effect  of  electricity  produced  by  the  irrita- 
tion of  the  myriads  of  fleas;  when  the  great  bell  of  the  church, 
close  at  hand,  pealed  out  with  loud  and  hurried  clangour.  I  jumped 
up,  for  the  voices  and  movements  of  the  people  in  the  house  made 
me  think  of  tire.  It  was  tire:  and  from  my  window  I  saw.  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  great  forked  flames  shooting  high  into  the 


OftAP.y.  IN  DAUPHINS  AGAIN.  117 

sky,  black  dots  with  long  shadows  hurrying  towards  the  place, 
and  the  crests  of  the  ridges  catching  the  light  and  standing  out 
like  spectres.  All  the  world  was  in  motion,  for  the  neighbouring 
villages — now  aroused — rang  out  the  alarm.  I  pulled  on  my  shirt, 
and  tore  over  the  bridge.  Three  large  chalets  on  fire  were  sur- 
rounded by  a  mass  of  people,  who  were  bringing  all  their  pots  and 
pans,  and  anything  that  would  hold  water.  They  formed  them- 
selves into  several  chains,  each  two  deep,  leading  towards  the 
nearest  stream,  and  passed  the  water  up  one  side,  and  the  empty 
utensils  down  the  other.  My  old  friend  the  mayor  was  there,  in 
full  force  striking  the  ground  with  his  stick,  and  vociferating, 
"  Work !  work ! "  but  the  men,  with  much  presence  of  mind, 
chiefly  ranged  themselves  on  the  sides  of  the  empty  buckets,  and 
left  the  real  work  to  their  better  halves.  Their  efforts  were  useless, 
and  the  chalets  burnt  themselves  out. 

The  next  morning  I  visited  the  still  smouldering  ruins,  and  saw 
the  homeless  families  sitting  in  a  dismal  row  in  front  of  their 
charred  property.  The  people  said  that  one  of  the  houses  had  been 
well  insured,  and  that  its  owner  had  endeavoured  to  forestall  luck. 
He  had  arranged  the  place  for  a  bonfire,  set  the  lower  rooms  on 
fire  in  several  places,  and  had  then  gone  out  of  the  way,  leaving  his 
wife  and  children  in  the  upper  rooms,-  to  be  roasted  or  not  as  the 
case  might  be.  His  plans  only  partially  succeeded,  and  it  was 
satisfactory  to  see  the  scoundrel  brought  back  in  the  custody  of  two 
stalwart  gensdarmes.     Three  days  afterwards  I  was  in  Loudon. 


HUT   WHAT    IS     IHIS? 


CHAPTER   VI. 


THE    VAI.    TorUNANCIIK —  DIRECT    I'ASS    !-l;u\l    |;i;KI  II.    T(i    ZEKMATT 
BBKDHJOCH) — ZEUMATT — FIRST  ASCENT  OF  T1IK  GRAND  TOURNALIN. 

"  How  like  a  winter  liatli  my  absence  been 
From  thee,   the  pleasure  of  a  fleeting  year  !  '* 

W.     SlIAKKSI'KAKI  . 

I  crossed  the  Channel  on  the  29th  of  July  1863,  embarrassed  by 
tin'  possession  of  two  ladders,  each  twelve  feet  long,  which  joined 
together  like  those  used  by  firemen,  and  shut  up  like  parallel  rulers. 
My  luggage  was  highly  suggestive  of  housebreaking,  for,  besides 
these,  there  were  several  coils  of  rope,  and  numerous  tools  of  sus- 
picious appearance,  and  it  was  reluctantly  admitted  into  France, 
but  it  passed  through  the  custom-house  with  less  trouble  than  I 
anticipated,  after  a  timely  expenditure  of  a  few  francs. 

I  am  not  in  love  with  the  douane.  It  is  the  purgatory  of  fcra- 
vellers,  where  uncongenial  spirits  mingle  together  for  a  time,  In-lore 
they  are  separated  into  rich  and  poor.  The  douaniers  look  npon 
tourists  as  their  natural  enemies;  see  how  eagerly  they  pounce  upon 
the  portmanteaux  I  One  of  them  has  discovered  something  I  He 
has  never  Been  its  like  before,  and  he  holds  it  aloft  in  the  face  of 
its  owner,  with  inquisitorial  insolence.     "  But  wluit  is  this  V     The 


I  hap.  vi.  'MONSIEUR  IS  ACROBAT  THEN?'  119 

explanation  is  only  half-satisfactory.  "  But  what  is  this?"  says  he, 
laying  hold  of  a  little  box.  "  Powder."  "  But  that  it  is  forbidden 
to  carry  of  powder  on  the  railway."  "  Bah ! "  says  another  and 
older  hand,  "pass  the  effects  of  Monsieur;"  and  our  countryman — 
whose  cheeks  had  begun  to  redden  under  the  stares  of  his  fellow- 
travellers — is  allowed  to  depart  with  his  half- worn  tooth-brush, 
while  the  discomfited  douanier  gives  a  mighty  shrug  at  the  strange 
habits  of  those  "whose  insular  position  excludes  them  from  the 
march  of  continental  ideas." 

My  real  troubles  commenced  at  Susa.  The  officials  there,  more 
honest  and  more  obtuse  than  the  Frenchmen,  declined  at  one  and  the 
same  time  to  be  bribed,  or  to  pass  my  baggage  until  a  satisfactory 
account  of  it  was  rendered  ;  and,  as  they  refused  to  believe  the  true 
explanation,  I  was  puzzled  what  to  say,  but  was  presently  relieved 
from  the  dilemma  by  one  of  the  men,  who  was  cleverer  than  his 
fellows,  suggesting  that  I  was  going  to  Turin  to  exhibit  in  the 
streets ;  that  I  mounted  the  ladder  and  balanced  myself  on  the  end 
of  it,  then  lighted  m^  pipe  and  put  the  point  of  the  baton  in  its 
bowl,  and  caused  the  baton  to  gyrate  around  my  head.  The  rope 
was  to  keep  back  the  spectators,  and  an  Englishman  in  my  company 
was  the  agent.  "  Monsieur  is  acrobat  then  ? "  "  Yes,  certainly." 
"  Pass  the  effects  of  Monsieur  the  acrobat ! " 

These  ladders  were  the  source  of  endless  trouble.  Let  us  pass 
over  the  doubts  of  the  guardians  of  the  Hotel  d'Europe  (Troml)etta), 
whether  a  person  in  the  possession  of  such  questionable  articles 
should  be  admitted  to  their  very  respectable  house,  and  get  to 
(  hatillon,  at  the  entrance  of  the  Val  Tournanche.  A  mule  was 
chartered  to  carry  them,  and,  as  they  were  too  long  to  sling  across 
its  back,  they  were  arranged  lengthways,  and  one  end  projected  over 
the  animal's  head,  while  the  other  extended  beyond  its  tail.  A  mule 
when  going  up  or  down  hill  always  moves  with  a  jerky  action,  and 
in  consequence  of  this  the  ladders  hit  my  mule  severe  blows  l>o- 
tween  its  cars  and  mi  its  flanks.  The  beast,  not  knowing  what  strange 
creature  it  had  on  its  back,  naturally  tossed  its  head  and  threw  out 


120  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  OttlP.  vi. 

its  legs,  an<l  this,  of  course,  only  made  the  blows  thai  it  received 

more  severe.  At  last  it  ran  away,  and  would  have  perished  by 
rolling  down  a  precipice,  it'  the  men  had  not  oaUghl  hold  of  its  tail. 
The  end  of  the  matter  was  that  a  man  had  t<»  follow  the  male, 
holding  the  end  of  the  ladders,  which  obliged  him  to  move  his  anus 
up  and  down  incessantly,  and  to  bow  to  the  hind  quarters  of  the 
animal  in  a  way  that  afforded  more  amusement  to  his  comrades 
than  it   did  to  him. 

I  was  once  more  en  route  for  the  Matterhorn,  for  I  had  heard 
m  the  spring  of  1863  the  cause  of  the  failure  of  Professor  Tyndall. 
and  learnt  that  the  case  was  not  so  hopeless  as  it  appeared  to  be 
at  one  time.  I  found  that  he  arrived  as  far  only  as  the  north- 
ern end  of  'the  shoulder.'  The  point  at  which  he  says,1  they 
"  sat  down  with  broken  hopes,  the  summit  within  a  stone's-throw 
of  us,  but  still  defying  us,"  was  not  the  notch  or  cleft  at  D 
(which  is  literally  within  a  stone's-throw  of  the  summit),  but 
another  and  more  formidable  cleft  that  intervenes  between  the 
northern  end  of  'the  shoulder'  and  the  commencement  of  the 
final  peak.  It  is  marked  E  on  the  outline  which  faces  p.  74. 
Carrel  and  all  the  men  who  had  been  with  me  knew  of  the  ex- 
istence of  this  cleft,  and  of  the  pinnacle  which  rose  between  it 
and  the  final  peak;  and  we  had  frequently  talked  about  the 
best  manner  of  passing  the  place.  On  this  we  disagreed,  but  we 
were  both  of  opinion  that  when  we  got  to  'the  shoulder,'  it 
would  be  necessary  to  bear  down  gradually  to  the  right  or  to  tin- 
left,  to  avoid  coming  to  the  top  of  the  notch.  Tyndall's  party, 
after  arriving  at  'the  shoulder,'  was  led  by  his  guides  along 
the  crest  of  the  ridge,  and,  consequently,  when  they  got  to  its 
northern  end,  they  came  to  the  top  of  the  notch,  instead  of  the 
lxjttom — to  the  dismay  of  all  but  the  Carrels.  Dr.  Tyndall's  words 
are,  "The  ridge  was  here  split  by  a  deep  cleft  which  separated  it 
from  the  final  precipice,  and  the  case  became  more  hopeless 
came  more  near."     The  Professor  adds,  "The  mountain  is  14,800 

1  Saturday  Stvkw,  Augusts,  1863. 


chap.  vi.        EXPLANATION  OF  TYND  ALL'S  DEFEAT.  121 

feet  high,  and  14,600  feet  had  been  accomplished."  He  greatly 
deceived  himself;  by  the  barometric  measurements  of  Signor 
Giordano  the  notch  is  no  less  than  800  feet  below  the  summit.  The 
guide  "Walter  (Dr.  Tyndall  says)  said  it  was  impossible  to  proceed, 
and  the  Carrels,  appealed  to  for  their  opinion  (this  is  their  own 
account),  gave  as  an  answer,  "  We  are  porters,  ask  your  guides." 
Bennen,  thus  left  to  himself,  "  was  finally  forced  to  accept  defeat." 
Tyndall  had  nevertheless  accomplished  an  advance  of  about  400 
feet  over  one  of  the  most  difficult  parts  of  the  mountain. 

There  are  material  discrepancies  between  the  published  narratives 
of  Professor  Tyndall x  and  the  verbal  accounts  of  the  Carrels.  The 
former  says  the  men  had  to  be  "  urged  on,"  that  "  they  pronounced 
flatly  against  the  final  precipice,"  "  they  yielded  so  utterly,"  and 
that  Bennen  said,  in  answer  to  a  final  appeal  made  to  him, "  'What 
could  I  do,  sir  ?  not  one  of  them  would  accompany  me.'  It  was 
the  accurate  truth."  Je^n-Antoine  Carrel  says  that  when  Professor 
Tyndall  gave  the  order  to  turn  he  would  have  advanced  to  examine 
the  route,  as  he  did  not  think  that  farther  progress  was  impossible, 
but  he  was  stopped  by  the  Professor,  and  was  naturally  obliged  to 
follow  the  others.2     These  disagreements  may  well  be  left  to  be 

1  Saturday  Review,  1863,  and  Macmillaris  Magazine,  1869. 

3  I  have  entered  into  this  matter  because  much  surprise  has  been  expressed  that 
Carrel  was  able  to  pass  the  place  without  any  great  difficulty  in  1865,  which 
turned  back  so  strong  a  party  in  1862.  The  cause  of  Professor  Tyndall's  defeat  was 
simply  that  his  second  guide  (Walter)  did  not  give  aid  to  Bennen  when  it  was  required, 
and  that  the  Carrels  would  not  act  as  guides  after  having  been  hired  as  porters.  J.  -A. 
Carrel  not  only  knew  of  the  existence  of  this  place  before  they  came  to  it,  but  always 
believed  in  the  possibility  of  passing  it,  and  of  ascending  the  mountain  ;  and  had  he 
been  leader  to  the  party  I  do  not  doubt  that  he  might  have  taken  Tyndall  to  the  top. 
But  when  appealed  to  to  assist  Bennen  (a  Swiss,  and  the  recognised  leader  of  the 
party),  was  it  likely  that  he  (an  Italian,  a  porter),  who  intended  to  be  the  first  man 
up  the  mountain  by  a  route  which  he  regarded  peculiarly  his  own,  would  render  any 
aid? 

It  is  not  so  easy  to  understand  how  Dr.  Tyndall  and  Bennen  overlooked  the  exist- 
ence of  this  cleft,  for  it  is  seen  over  several  points  of  the  compass,  and  jwrticularly 
well  from  the  southern  side  of  the  Theodule  pass.  Still  more  difficult  is  it  to  explain 
how  the  Professor  came  to  consider  that  he  was  only  'a  stone'i-throw '  from  the 

It 


122  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALTS.  chap.  \  i. 

settled  by  those  who  are  concerned.  Tyndall,  Walter,  and  Bennen, 
now  disappear  from  this  history.1 

The  Val  Tournanche  is  one  of  the  most  charming  valleys  in  the 
Italian  Alps ;  it  is  a  paradise  to  an  artist,  and  if  the  space  at  my 
command  were  greater,  I  would  willingly  linger  over  its  groves  of 
chestnuts,  its  bright  trickling  rills  and  its  roaring  torrents,  its  upland 
unsuspected  valleys  and  its  noble  cliffs.  The  path  rises  steeply 
from  Chatillon,  but  it  is  well  shaded,  and  the  heat  of  the  summer 
sun  is  tempered  by  cool  air  and  spray  which  comes  off  the  ice-cold 
streams.2  One  sees  from  the  path,  at  several  places  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  valley,  groups  of  arches  which  have  been  built  high  nj» 
against  the  faces  of  the  cliffs.  Guide-books  repeat— on  whose 
authority  I  know  not — that  they  are  the  remains  of  a  Roman 
aqueduct.  They  have  the  Roman  boldness  of  conception,  but  the 
work  has  not  the  usual  Roman  solidity.  The  arches  have  always 
seemed  to  me  to  be  the  remains  of  an  unfinished  work,  and  I  learn 

from  Jean-Antoine  Carrel  that  there  are 
other  groups  of  arches,  which  are  not  seen 

tfrom  the  path,  all  having  the  same  appear- 
ance. It  may  be  questioned  whether  those 
seen  near  the  village  of  Anteyare  Roman. 
Some  of  them  are  semicircular,  whilst  others 
are  distinctly  pointed.  Here  is  one  of  the 
latter,  which  might  pass  for  fourteenth- 
century  work,  or  later ; — a  two-centred  arch,  with  mean  voussoirs, 
and  the  masonry  in  rough  courses.  These  arches  are  well  worth 
the  attention  of  an  archaeologist,  but  some  difficulty  will  be  found 
in  approaching  them  closely. 

summit ;  for,  when  he  got  to  the  end  of  'the  shoulder,'  he  must  have  been  perfectly 
aware  that  the  whole  liciyht  of  the  final  peak  was  still  above  him. 

1  Dr.  Tyndall  ascended  the  Matterhorn  in  1868.     See  Appendix  E. 

J  Information  upon  the  Val  Tournanche  will  be  found  in  De  Saussure's  Voyages 
dans  Its  Alpes,  vol.  It.  pp.  379-81,  406-9  ;  in  Canon  Carrel's  pamphlet,  /."  VattA  it 
Valtornenche  en  1867 ;  and  in  King's  Italian   Valleys  of  the  Alps,  pp.  220-1. 


chap.  vi.  CIMES  BLANCHES.  123 

We  sauntered  up  the  valley,  and  got  to  Breuil  when  all  were 
asleep.  A  halo  round  the  moon  promised  watery  weather,  and  we 
were  not  disappointed,  for,  on  the  next  day  (August  1),  rain  fell 
heavily,  and  when  the  clouds  lifted  for  a  time,  we  saw  that  new 
snow  lay  thickly  over  everything  higher  than  9000  feet.  J.-A. 
Carrel  was  ready  and  waiting  (as  I  had  determined  to  give  the 
bold  cragsman  another  chance) ;  and  he  did  not  need  to  say  that  the 
Matterhorn  would  be  impracticable  for  several  days  after  all  this 
new  snow,  even  if  the  weather  were  to  arrange  itself  at  once.  Our 
first  day  together  was  accordingly  spent  upon  a  neighbouring 
summit,  the  Cimes  Blanches;  a  degraded  mountain,  well  known 
for  its  fine  panoramic  view.  It  was  little  that  we  saw;  for,  in 
every  direction  except  to  the  south,  writhing  masses  of  heavy 
clouds  obscured  everything ;  and  to  the  south  our  view  was  inter- 
cepted by  a  peak  higher  than  the  Cimes  Blanches,  named  the  Grand 
Tournalin.1  But  we  got  some  innocent  pleasure  out  of  watching 
the  gambolings  of  a  number  of  goats,  who  became  fast  friends  after 
we  had  given  them  some  salt ;  in  fact,  too  fast,  and  caused  us  no 
little  annoyance  when  we  were  descending.  "  Carrel,"  I  said,  as  a 
number  of  stones  whizzed  by  which  they  had  dislodged,  "  this 
must  be  put  a  stop  to."  "  Diable ! "  he  grunted,  "  it  is  very  well  to 
talk,  but  how  will  you  do  it  ? "  I  said  that  I  would  try ;  and 
sitting  down,  poured  a  little  brandy  into  the  hollow  of  my  hand, 
and  allured  the  nearest  goat  with  deceitful  gestures.  It  was  one 
who  had  gobbled  up  the  paper  in  which  the  salt  had  been  carried — 
an  animal  of  enterprising  character — and  it  advanced  fearlessly  and 
licked  up  the  brandy.  I  shall  not  easily  forget  its  surprise.  It 
stopped  short,  and  coughed,  and  looked  at  me  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Oh,  you  cheat ! "  and  spat  and  ran  away ;  stopping  now  and  then 
to  cough  and  spit  again.  We  were  not  troubled  any  more  by  those 
goats. 

More  snow  fell  during  the  night,  and  our  attempt  on  the 
Matterhorn  was  postponed  indefinitely.     As  there  was  nothing  to 

1  I  shall  speak  again  of  this  mountain,  and  therefore  pa&s  it  over  for  the  present. 


ii-i  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap,  vt 

be  done  ill  r.ivuil.  1  determined  to  make  the  tour  of  the  mountain, 
and  oommenoed  by  inventing  a  pass  from  Breui]  to  Zermatt,1  in 
place  of  the  hackneyed  Theodule.  Any  one  who  looks  at  the  map 
will  Bee  that  the  latter  pass  makes  a  considerable  detour  to  the 
east,  and,  apparently,  goes  out  of  the  way.  I  thought  thai  it  was 
possible  to  strike  out  a  shorter  route,  both  in  distance  and  in  time, 
and  we  set  out  on  the  3rd  of  August,  to  carry  out  the  idea.  We 
followed  the  Theodule  path  for  some  time,  l>ut  quitted  it  when  it 
bore  away  to  the  east,  and  kept  straight  on  until  we  struck  the 
moraine  of  the  .Mont  Cervin  (Jlacier.  Our  track  still  continued  in 
a  straight  line  up  the  centre  of  the  glacier  to  the  foot  of  a  tooth 
of  rock,  which  juts  prominently  out  of  the  ridge  (Furggengrat) 
connecting  the  Matterhoru  with  the  Theodulhorn.  The  head  of 
the  glacier  was  connected  with  this  little  peak  by  a  steep  bank  of 
snow ;  but  we  were  able  to  go  straight  up,  and  struck  the  Col  at 
its  lowest  point,  ii  little  to  the  right  (that  is  to  say.  to  the  cast)  of 
the  above-mentioned  peak.  On  the  north  there  was  a  snow-slope 
corresponding  to  that  od  the  other  side.  Half-an-hour  took  as  to 
its  base.  We  then  bore  away  over  the  nearly  level  plateau  of 
the  Furggengletscher,  making  a  straight  track  to  the  Hornli, 
whence  we  descended  to  Zermatt  by  one  of  the  well-known 
paths,  This  paSS  has  been  dubbed  the  Breuiljoch  by  the  Swiss 
surveyors.  It  is  a  few  feet  higher  than  the  Theodule,  and  it  may 
be  recommended  to  those  who  are  familiar  with  that  pass,  as  it 
gives  equally  line  views,  and  is  accessible  at  nil  times.  But 
it  will  never  be  frequented  like  the  Theodule,  as  the  snow- 
slope  at  its  summit,  at  certain  times,  will  require  the  use  of  the 
It  took  us  six  bonis  and  a  quarter  to  go  from  one  place  to 

the    other. 

It  is  stilted  in  one  of  the  MS.  note-books  of  the  late  Principal 
■  1.  I).  Forbes,  that  this  depression,  now  called  the  Breuiljoch,  was 

formerly  the  pass  between   the   Yal  Tournanehe  and  Zermatt,  and 
that   it  was  abandoned  for  the  Theodule  in  consequence  of  changes 

1    Sec   llic    Map   of  the    Mattti  hiil'li   und    its  <  Maimers. 


chap.  vi.  THE  BREUILJOCH.  125 

in  the  glaciers.1  The  authority  for  the  statement  was  not  given. 
I  presume  it  was  from  local  tradition,  but  I  readily  credit  it ;  for, 
before  the  time  that  the  glaciers  had  shrunk  to  so  great  an  extent, 
the  steep  snow -slopes  above  mentioned,  in  all  probability,  did 
not  exist ;  and,  very  likely,  the  glaciers  led  by  gentle  gradients 
up  to  the  summit ;  in  which  case  this  route  would  have  formed 
the  natural  highway  between  the  two  places.2  It  is  far  from  im- 
possible, if  the  glaciers  continue  to  diminish,  that  the  Theodule 
itself,  the  easiest  and  the  most  frequented  of  all  the  higher  Alpine 
passes,  may  become  somewhat  difficult ;  and,  if  this  should  be  the 
case,  the  prosperity  of  Zermatt  may  possibly  suffer.3 

1  My  attention  was  directed  to  this  note  by  Mr.  A.  Adams-Reilly. 

2  A  few  days  before  we  crossed  the  Breuiljoch  in  1863,  Mr.  F.  Morshead  made  a 
parallel  pass  to  it  (which  is  now  called  the  Furgg  Joch).  He  crossed  the  ridge  on  the 
western  side  of  the  little  peak,  and  followed  a  somewhat  more  difficult  route  than 
ours.  In  1865  I  wanted  to  use  Mr.  Morshead's  pass  (see  Chap.  XV.)  but  found  that 
it  was  not  possible  to  descend  the  Zermatt  side  ;  for,  during  the  two  years  which 
had  elapsed,  the  glacier  had  shrunk  so  much  that  it  was  completely  severed  from 
the  summit  of  the  pass,  and  we  could  not  get  down  the  rocks  that  were  exposed. 

3  The  summit  of  the  Theodule  pass  is  10,899  feet  above  the  sea.  It  is  estimated 
that  of  late  about  a  thousand  tourists  have  crossed  it  per  annum.  In  the  winter, 
when  the  crevasses  are  bridged  over  and  partially  filled  up,  and  the  weather  is  favour- 
able, cows  and  sheep  can  still  pass  over  it  from  Zermatt  to  Val  Tournanche,  and 
vice  versa. 

In  the  middle  of  August  1792,  De  Saussure  appears  to  have  taken  mules  from 
Breuil,  over  the  Val  Tournanche  Glacier  to  the  summit  of  the  Theodule  ;  and  on  a 
previous  journey  he  did  the  same,  also  in  the  middle  of  August.  He  distinctly 
mentions  (§  2220)  that  the  glacier  was  completely  covered  with  snow,  and  that  no 
crevasses  were  open.  Of  late  years,  the  glacier  has  usually  been  very  bare  of  snow 
in  the  month  of  August,  and  has  had  many  open  crevasses. 

Since  1855,  or  thereabouts,  Zermatt  has  become  one  of  the  most  popular  Alpine 
resorts,  and  it  is  still  growing  in  favour.  Fifty  years  ago,  the  Theodule  pass,  the 
Weissthor,  and  the  Col  d'Herens  were,  I  believe,  the  only  routes  taken  from  this 
place  across  the  Pennine  Alps.  At  the  present  time  there  are  more  than  two  dozen 
ways  by  which  a  tourist  may  arrive  or  depart.  The  summits  of  some  of  the  Cols  are 
more  than  14,000  feet  above  the  sea. 

Down  to  the  middle  of  the  century,  the  only  inn  at  Zermatt  was  kept  by  the 
village  doctor  (Lauber).  In  1852,  Mons.  Clemenz  opened  the  Mont  Cerviu  Hotel, 
and  in  1855  M.  Alexandre  Seiler  acquired  and  extended  the  original  village  inn 


126  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS  chap.  vi. 

Carrel  and  I  wandered  out  again  in  the  afternoon,  and  went, 
first  of  all,  to  a  favourite  spot  with  tourists  near  the  end  of  tin- 
Gorner  Glacier  (or,  properly  speaking,  the  Boden  Glacier),  to  a 
little  verdant  flat — studded  with  Euphrasia  officinalis — the  delight 
of  swarms  of  bees,  who  gather  there  the  honey  which  afterwards 
appears  at  the  table  d'hdte. 

On  our  right  the  glacier-torrent  thundered  down  the  valley 
through  a  gorge  with  precipitous  sides,  not  easily  approached;1  for 
the  turf  at  the  top  was  slippery,  and  the  rocks  had  everywhere 
been  rounded  by  the  glacier, — which  formerly  extended  lower 
down.  This  gorge  seems  to  have  been  made  chiefly  by  the  torrent, 
and  to  have  been  excavated  subsequently  to  the  retreat  of  the 
glacier.  It  seems  so  because  not  merely  upon  its  walls  are  there 
the  marks  of  running  water,  but  even  upon  the  rounded  rocks  at 
the  top  of  its  walls,  at  a  height  of  seventy  or  eighty  feet  above  the 
present  level  of  the  torrent,  there  are  some  of  those  queer  con- 
cavities which  rapid  streams  alone  are  known  to  produce  on  rocks. 

A  little  bridge,  apparently  frail,  spans  the  torrent  just  above 
the  entrance  to  this  gorge,  and  from  it  one  perceives,  being  fashioned 
in  the  rocks  below,  concavities  similar  to  those  to  which  reference 
has  just  been  made.  The  torrent  is  seen  hurrying  forwards.  Not 
everywhere.  In  some  places  the  water  strikes  projecting  angles, 
and,  thrown  back  by  them,  remains  almost  stationary,  eddying 
round  and  round:  in  others,  obstructions  fling  it  up  in  fountains, 
which  play  perpetually  on  the  tinder  surfaces  of  overhanging  masses ; 
and  sometimes  do  so  in  such  a  way  that  the  water  not  only  works 
upon  the  under  surfaces,  but  round  the  corner ;  that  is  to  say,  upon 

(Monte  Rosa  Hotel).  In  1867  he  took  over  the  Mont  Cervin  Hotel,  and  afterwards 
gradually  made  himself  monarch  of  the  place  hy  his  enterprise  and  geniality.  The 
three  principal  hotels  of  Zermatt,  as  well  as  the  Hotel  on  the  RifiFelberg  (now 
termed  the  Riffelhaus),  the  larger  establishment  called  the  Riffel  Alp  Hotel,  and 
the  Hotel  at  the  Lac  Noir  (Schwarzsee),  are  all  under  the  control  of  his  family. 

The  opening  of  the  railway  from  Visp  to  Zermatt  has  again  caused  a  large 
accession  of  visitors,  and  in  the  height  of  the  season  the  place  is  overcrowded. 

1  This  was  the  case  in  1863.     It  is  now  a  regular  show  place. 


CHAP.  VI. 


RUNNING   WATER  VERSUS  ROCKS. 


127 


the  surfaces  which  are  not  opposed  to  the  general  direction  of  the 
current.  In  all  cases  concavities  are  being  produced.  Projecting 
angles  are  rounded,  it  is  true,  and  are  more  or  less  convex,  but 
they  are  overlooked  on  account  of  the  prevalence  of  concave  forms. 
Cause  and  effect  help  each  other  here.     The  inequalities  of  the 


WATER-WORN    ROCKS    IN   THE   GORGE   BELOW   THE   CORNER   GLACIER. 


torrent's  bed  and  walls  cause  its  eddyings,  and  the  eddies  fashion 
the  concavities.  The  more  profound  the  latter  become,  the  more 
disturbance  is  caused  in  the  water.  The  destruction  of  the  rocks 
proceeds  at  an  ever-increasing  rate ;  for  the  larger  the  amount  of 
surface  that  is  exposed,  the  greater  are  the  opportunities  for  the 
assaults  of  heat  and  cold. 

When  water  is  in  the  form  of  glacier  it  has  not  the  power  of 
making  concavities,  such  as  these,  in  rocks,  and  of  working  upon 
surfaces  which  are  not  opposed  to  the  direction  of  the  current.     Its 


IM  SCRAMBLES  AMoXOST  THE  A  LI'S.  chap.  vi. 

until  re  is  changed;  it  olenites  in  a  different  way,  and  it  leave! 
marks  which  are  readily  distinguished  from  those  produced  by 
torrent-action. 

The  prevailing  forms  which  result  from  glacier-action  are  more 


STKIATIONS   PRODUCED    HV   GLACIEK-ACTION  (AT   (.KIN  IlKLWAI.I)). 

or  less  convex.  Ultimately,  all  angles  and  almost  all  curves  are 
obliterated,  and  large  areas  of  flat  surfaces  are  produced.  This  per- 
fection of  abrasion  is  rarely  found,  except  in  such  localities  as  haw 
sustained  a  grinding  much  more  severe  than  that  which  has  occurred 
in  the  Alps;  and,  generally  speaking,  the  dictum  of  the  veteran 


.-H  \i--  vi.  GLACIER  VERSUS  BOCKS.  129 

geologist  Sfeuder,  «|iioted  below,  is  undoubtedly  ferae.1  X<>t  merely 
can  the  operations  of  extinct  glaciers  be  traced  in  detail  by  means 
of  the  bosses  of  rock  popularly  termed  roches  moutonntes,  but  their 
effects  in  the  aggregate,  on  a  range  of  mountains  or  large  district, 
can  l»e  recognised  sometimes  at  a  distance  of  fifteen  or  twenty  miles 
from  the  incessant  repetition  of  these  convex  forms. 

It  will  not  be  uninteresting  to  consider,  for  a  few  moments,  the 
way  in  which  they  are  produced  by  glaciers ;  but  first  of  all  let  us 
look  back  to  the  time  when  they  had  no  existence. 

§  1.  If  ever  the  surface  of  the  earth  was  as  true  as  if  it  had 
been  turned  out  from  a  lathe, 4t  was  certainly  not  so  when  the  great 
glaciers — whose  poor  remnants  we  now  see  in  the  Alps — began  to 
stretch  far  away  from  the  mountains  on  to  the  lowlands  of  Switzer- 
land and  on  to  the  plain  of  Piedmont, — unless  geology  is  a  lie.  If 
geological  reasoning  is  not  a  delusion  and  a  snare,  age  upon  age  had 
passed  away  before  this  took  place.  Rocks  had  crumbled  into  dust, 
and  their  particles  had  been  re-arranged ;  lightning  had  struck  the 
peaks ;  frost  had  cleft  their  ridges ;  avalanches  had  swept  then- 
slopes  ;  earthquakes  had  fissured  the  soil ;  and  torrents  had  trans- 
ported the  debris  far  and  wide, — had  eaten  into  the  clefts,  had  scored 
the  slopes,  and  had  deepened  the  fissures  for  an  indefinite  length  of 
time.  It  was,  therefore,  not  a  brand  new  world  upon  which  the 
glaciers  commenced  to  work  —  a  globe  which  had  been,  as  it 
were,  just  turned  out  of  a  mould.  It  was  scarred  and  weather- 
beaten  ;  there  were  upon  it  hills  and  dales  innumerable,  cracks  and 
chasms,  asperities  and  depressions,  which  heat  and  cold  had  pene- 
trated, and  water  had  still  further  deepened.  The  world  was 
incalculably  old  when  this  modern  glacial  period  began  its  opem- 
tions ;  and,  although  it  continued  for  a  long  time,  the  glaciers 

1  "Uu  dcs  faits  les  mieux  constates  nt  qua  L'aiwioa  des  glaciers  se  distingue  de 
celle  des  eaux  en  ce  que  la  premiere  produit  des  roches  convexes  ou  moutoim.  M, 
tandis  que  la  seconde  donne  lieu  a  des  coucavites. "— Prof.  B.  Studer,  Originc  des 
Lacs  Suisses. 

S 


ISO  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  vi. 

were  unable  to  obliterate  the  effects  of  the  older  and  greater 
powers.  The  roehes  moutowndet  owe  their  peculiar  form  to  the 
grinding  of  Lee  certainly,  bat  they  were  blocked  out  anterior  to 
the  formation  of  the  glaciers.  They  were,  when  the  ice  quitted 
ilit'in,  to  what  they  were  before  the  glaciers  began  to  work,  very 
much  like  what  an  old  worn  coin  is  to  one  that  is  newly  struck. 
The  hollows  were  not  much  affected,  but  the  eminences  were 
ground  down  ;  the  depressions  of  the  modelling  remained,  and 
the  parts  in  relief  were  taken  away.  It  requires  souk-  little  effort 
to  imagine  what  the  rock  tonus  were  like  before  the  glacie 

',ui;il   period  began  to  operate  upon   them,  but   we  cannot  be 

far  wrong  in  assuming  that  the  tonus  were  similar  to  those 
exhibited  by  weathered  rocks  at  the  present  time. 

$  l'.  Glacier  ice  is  plastic,  and  can  be  moulded  by  pressure  to 
almost  any  form.  Hence,  if  a  glacier  could  remain  perfectly 
stationary,  it  would  be  moulded,  by  means  of  its  own  weight,  to 
the  surface  upon  which  it  reposed.  But  glaciers  move,  and  conse- 
quently the  bottom  of  one  is  never  completely  moulded  to  its 
rock-bed.  The  pressure  from  the  weight  of  the  ice  is  opposed  by 
the  motion  of  the  glacier,  and  the  ice  is  urged  past  depressions 
before  it  has  time  to  l»c  moulded  to  them. 

For  example,  let  Fig.  1  of  the  diagram  on  p.  131   represent 

ion    of   a    portion    of    the    bottom    of   a    glacier    which     is 

beginning  to  work  upon  weathered   rocks;    g,  g,  indicating  the 

glacier,  and  the  arrow  the  direction  in  which  the  -lacier  is 
moving.      The    ice,    after    passing    the   eminences   A,  B,  C,    does    not 

completely  till  the  hollows  d,  e,  f.1 

These  things  can  1m-  ol. sen  ed  at    the  sides  of  most  coiisideraMe 

glaciers,  and  particularly  well  at  numerous  places  on  each  bank  of 
the  Cornel-  Clacier.     At  several  places  (such  as  at  D  in   Pig.    I 
one    can   get    underneath   and   see   the    ice    bridging    hollows;   and 

notice  proof  of  its  motion,  and  that  it  is  partially  moulded  to  the 

1  Tin-  Diitliiif  is  a  tracing  frtNB  a  photograph  ol  wiatlnn-il.  angUciated  locks. 


CHAP.  VI. 


MOTION  OF  OLA/'IEHS. 


131 


rocks,  in  the  flutings  upon  the  bottom  of  the  glacier  leading  up  to 
the  eminences  by  which  they  have  been  caused. 


Fig.  1. 


Fig.  2.  A 


K*!t 


Fig.   3. 


Fig.   4. 





Fig.  5. 


§  :>».  It  is,  therefore,  evident  that  when  it  glacier  passes  over 
ground  such  as  has  been  indicated  in  §  1,  it  is  supported  upon  a 
number  of  points,  and  bridges  many  hollows;  that  the  parts  of 
the  rock  which  the  ice  touches  sustain  the  entire  weighl  and 
friction  of  the  glacier,  and  arc  akmti  abraded,  while  the  hollows 
escape. 


132  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chai>.  vi. 

§   \.  But  whilst  the  motion  of  the  glacier  is  urging  it  onwards 

and  orcr  depressions,  the  weight  of  its  ice  is  pressing  it  into  the 
depressions,  and  hence  the  ice  strikes  the  next  projection  at  a 
lower  level  than  it  left  the  last  one.  For  example,  after  passing 
the  hollow  D,  the  ice  strikes  the  eminence  B  at  a  lower  level  than 
it  left  A  (Fig.  1). 

§  5.  Tlie  immediate  effect  is,  that  the  minor  asperities  of  the 
rock  suffer,  and  chiefly  those  which  are  opposed  to  the  direction  <»!' 
motion  of  the  glacier.  They  may  be  actually  crushed,  or  fragments 
which  are  already  loose  may  be  brushed  or  scraped  away  ;  in  ;i UN- 
case  they  disappear  (Fig.  2). 

§  G.  In  consequence  of  this,  the  glacier  becomes  supported  up  m 
a  larger  area,  and  its  power  is  exerted  over  a  greater  surface.  It 
follows,  also,  that  the  amount,  in  depth,  of  the  matter  which  is 
removed  constantly  diminishes,  if  the  power  that  is  employed 
continues  to  be  the  same. 

§  7.  A  long  continuance  of  abrasion,  from  the  friction  of  the  ice 
and  by  the  rasping  of  foreign  matter  contained  in  it,  lowers  the 
level  of  the  rock  eminences ;  but  surfaces  of  fractures  or  depressions 
in  the  rock  which  are  not  opposed  to  the  direction  of  the  motion 
of  the  glacier  remain  unabraded,  if  they  are  perpendicular  to  tin- 
direction  of  the  motion,  or  anything  like  perpendicular  to  it:  and 
they  will  continue  to  exist  (although  becoming  less  and  less)  until 
the  entire  bed  of  the  glacier  (that  is,  the  surface  of  the  rocks)  has 
been  reduced,  over  large  areas,  nearly  to  a  plane  surface. 

Bocks  which  have  been  rounded  by  glacier  action  (such  as  are 
shewn  in  Figs.  2, 3)  are  termed  rochcx  m on f ounces, and  unabraded 
surfaces  of  roches  moutonne'es  (such  as  D,  E,  F,  Figs.  2,3)  are  ten  mil 
'li's.  The  lee-sides  often  afford  useful  indications  of  the  direc- 
tions in  which  extinct  glaciers  have  moved 

$  8.  If  glaciers  still  continue  to  work  upon  roehea  moutonnees, 
the  effects  which  are  produced  are  only  an  extension  of  those 


CHAr.  vi.         ROCHES  MOUTONNEES  AND  NIVELtES.  133 

described  in  §  7.  The  highest  points  of  the  rocks  tare  most  affected, 
while  the  sides  of  depressions  escape  wholly,  or  partially,  accord- 
ing as  they  are  unopposed  Or  opposed  to  the  direction  of  the  motion 
of  the  glacier.  Eminences  are  entirely  removed  in  course  of  time, 
and  their  positions,  and  those  of  cracks  or  depressions,  are  only 
indicated  by  faintly -marked  convexities  and  concavities  (Fig.  4). 
These  may  at  length  disappear,  and  large  areas  of  rock  may  be 
reduced  to  plane  surfaces. 

Such  surfaces  are  common  in  Greenland,  in  close  proximity  to, 
and  extending  underneath,  existing  glaciers.  I  propose  to  call 
them  rochcs  niveUes,  to  distinguish  them  from  roclus  moutonnies} 

§  9.  Striatums  are  frequently  produced  on  rocks  by  the  passage 
of  glaciers  (see  illustration  on  p.  128).  They  are  caused  by  foreign 
matter  in  the  bottoms  of  the  glaciers,  fixed  in  the  ice,  or  rolling  or 
sliding  between  it  and  the  rocks.  This  foreign  matter  is  partly 
made  up  of  fragments  which  have  been  removed  from  the  rock-bed 
by  the  action  of  the  glacier,  and  partly  from  rocks  which  have 
fallen  on  to  the  surface  of  the  glacier,  and  which  have  subsequently 
tumbled  into  crevasses,  or  otherwise  worked  their  way  down.2 

Generally  speaking,  striations  are  common  upon  rocks  which 
are    only  '  moutonn&s,'  and  are  rarer,  or  entirely  wanting,  upon 

1  De  Saussure  was  the  author  of  the  term  rochts  moutonrUes,  and  he  gave  (§  1061) 
the  following  reason  for  its  adoption  :— "  Farther  off,  behind  the  village  of  Juvianaor 
Envionne,  rocks  are  seen  having  the  shape  which  I  call  moutcmme.  .  .  The  hillocks 
(montagnes)  to  which  I  apply  this  expression,  are  composed  of  a  group  of  rounded 
prominences  (tetes  arrondies).  .  .  These  contiguous  and  frequent  domes  (rondeurs) 
give,  as  a  whole,  the  impression  of  a  well-furnished  fleece,  or  one  of  those  wigs  which 
are  also  called  moutonnies." 

The  term  was  an  appropriate  one,  applied  as  De  Saussure  used  it,  but  it  is  un- 
meaning when  applied  to  the  more  perfectly  glaciated,  levelled  surfaces. 

2  "One  who  is  familiar  with  the  track  of  this  mighty  engine  will  recognise  at 
once  where  the  large  boulders  have  hollowed  out  their  deeper  furrows,  where  small 
pebbles  have  drawn  their  finer  marks,  where  the  stones  with  angular  edges  have  left 
their  sharp  scratches,  where  sand  and  gravel  have  rubbed  and  smoothed  the  rocky 
surface,  and  left  it  bright  and  polished.  .  .  These  marks  are  not  to  be  mistaken 
by  any  one  who  has  carefully  observed  them  :  the  scratches,  furrows,  grooves,  are 


134  SCRA  Ml:  /./•;>  A.VOXfiST  THE  ATI'S.  chap.  vi. 

rochts  niveUes.    They  indicate  a  comparatively  early,  or  a  i 
stage  of  glacier-action. 

§  10.  More  or  less  water  is  always  found  flowing  underneath 
glaciers.  It  is  produced  by  ablation  of  the  surface  of  the  glacier, 
and  by  other  causes.  In  the  earlier  stages  of  glacier  action  (§§  2-7) 
it  finds  a  free  course  amongst  the  depressions  beneath  the  ice ;  but 
as  the  rocks  become  smoother  and  flatter  it  has  more  difficulty  in 
discovering  outlets,  and  must  materially  assist  in  reducing  tin- 
friction  of  the  ice  upon  the  rocks,  and  in  the  production  <>f  highly - 
polished  surfaces,  by  causing  less  violent  and  more  uniform 
abrasion. 

Such,  it  appears  to  me,  are  the  ways  in  which  glaciers  work 
upon  rocks,  and  produce  surfaces  moutonndes  or  nivele'es.  Before  I 
quit  this  subject,  I  wish  to  make  one  or  two  remarks  upon  the 
facts  which  have  been  stated,  and  to  draw  one  or  two  conclusions 
which  they  seem  to  warrant. 

1.  The  production  of  the  peculiar  rounded  rock-forms  which 
are  termed  roclies  moutonne'es,  is  to  be  attributed  to  the  extremely 
slow  rate  at  which  the  bottoms  of  glaciers  move,  not  less  than  t" 
the  plasticity  of  the  ice.  That  the  rate  is  very  slow  may  be 
inferred  from  the  fact,  that  the  smallest  fractures  on  rocks  upon 
which  glacier  has  worked  for  any  length  of  time,  have  their  weather 
and  their  lee  sides.     That  is  to  say,  before  the  ice  is  able  to  move  in 

always  rectilinear,  tending  in  the  direction  in  which  the  glacier  is  moving,  ;in<l  moat 
distinct  on  that  side  of  the  surface-inequalities  facing  the  direction  of  the  moving 
maw,  while  the  lee-side  remains  mostly  untouched. 

•  Ban  ami  there  on  the  sides  of  the  glacier  it  is  possihle  to  penetrate  between  tin- 
walls  and  the  ice  to  a  great  depth,  and  even  to  follow  such  a  gap  to  the  very  bottom 
of  the  valley  ;  and  everywhere  do  we  find  the  surface  of  the  ice  fretted  as  I  have 
described  it,  with  stones  of  every  size,  from  the  pebble  to  the  boulder,  and  also  with 
sand  and  gravel  of  all  sorts,  from  the  coarsest  grain  to  the  finest,  and  these  materials, 
more  or  less  firmly  set  in  the  ice,  form  the  grating  anrfaoa  with  which,  on  its  onward 
movement  down  the  Alpine  valleys,  it  leaves  everywhere  uaiatakeabk  traces  of  it> 
passage." — Agassiz,  in   The  Atlantic  Monlhhi. 


OHAP.vi.  VIOLENT  GLACIAL  ACTION.  135 

some  cases  over  cavities  only  an  eighth  of  an  inch  across,  it  is 
forced  down  into  them,  and  strikes  the  little  cliffs  or  slopes  which 
are  opposed  to  the  direction  of  its  motion  at  a  lower  level  than  it 
left  those  on  the  other  side, — which  latter  ones  remain  sharp  and 
unrounded.  This  can  frequently  be  observed,  even  in  most 
minute  fractures,  upon  glaciated  rocks  which  the  ice  has  not  long 
quitted.1  Fig.  5,  p.  131,  represents  an  example ;  the  arrow  points 
out  the  direction  in  which  the  glacier  has  moved,  B  the  weather, 
and  A  the  lee  side. 

This  affords  a  means  of  distinguishing  glacier  from  water 
action  in  hand  specimens  of  rock.2 

2.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that  if  glaciers  were  to  move  with 
rapidity,  instead  of  with  such  extreme  deliberation,  angular  but? 
faces  would  not  be  rounded,  but  flat  surfaces  would  be  produced 
from  the  beginning.  That  is  to  say,  instead  of  turning  out 
surfaces,  such  as  are  shewn  in  the  section,  Fig.  3,  p.  131,  after 
many  centuries  of  work,  glaciers  might  produce  similar  ones  to 
Fig.  4,  or  even  flatter,  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours.  The  degree  of 
flatness  which  would  be  produced  would  depend  upon  the  rate  of 
the  motion  and  the  bulk  of  the  ice. 

Professor  Steenstrup,  of  Copenhagen,  read  to  me  in  1867,  from 
an  unpublished  MS.  in  his  possession,  a  highly  interesting  account 
of  some  extraordinary  effects  which  were  produced  in  Iceland,  in 
the  year  1721,  by  glacier  in  rapid  motion.  It  seems  that  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  mountain  Kotlugja,  in  the  extreme  south  of 
the  island,  large  bodies  of  water  formed  underneath,  or  within,  the 
glaciers  (either  on  account  of  the  interior  heat  of  the  earth,  or  from 
other  causes),  and  at  length  acquired  irresistible  power,  tore  the 
glaciers  from  their  moorings  on  the  land,  and  swept  or  floated  them 
over  every  obstacle  into  the  sea.  Prodigious  masses  of  ice  were 
thus  borne  for  a  distance  of  about  ten  miles  over  land  in  the  space 

1  Glaciated  rocks  which  have  heen  exposed  to  the  atmosphere  for  any  length  of 
tiiin  .  lose,  of  course,  all  such  delicate  touches. 

2  See  p.  154. 


136  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  Mrs.  chap,  vr 

of  a  few  hours,  and  their  bulk  was  BO  enormous,  that  they  covered 
thf  sea  for  se\ en  miles  from  the  shore,  ami  remained  aground  in  one 
hundred  fathoms.  The  denudation  of  the  land  was  ii]>(in  a  grand 
scale.  AlIsuperHei.il  accumulations  were  swept  away,  and  the  bed- 
rock was  exposed.  It  was  described,  in  graphic  language,  how  all 
irregularities  and  depressions  were  obliterated,  and  a  smooth  sur- 
lace  of  several  miles  area  was  laid  bare,  and  that  this  area  had 
the  appearance  of  having  been  "planed  by  a  flaw"  ' 

Admitting   the  possibility  of  exaggeration    in    this    Icelandic 

1  The  account  of  Professor  Steenstrup  was,  I  believe,  copied  many  years  ago, 
when  he  was  travelling  in  Iceland,  from  an  original  Icelandic  MS.  ProfoMOt  I'aij- 
kull,  of  Upsala,  was  favoured  by  Professor  Steenstrup  with  a  sight  of  his  MS.,  and 
printed  some  extracts  from  it  in  his  work,  En  Sommer  i  Island,  Copenhagen,  1867. 
The  following  paragraphs,  which  refer  to  this  possibly  unique  occurrence,  are  taken 
from  the  English  translation  of  that  work. 

"At  the  commencement  of  the  eruption  a  stream  burst  forth,  consisting  primi- 
l>ally  of  half-melted  snow  and  large  masses  of  ice,  which  tumbled  about  in  the  sea 
like  floating  islands  ;  while,  simultaneously,  another  stream  issued  in  a  south- 
easterly direction,  and  inflicted  great  injury  on  the  land.  The  first  of  these  two 
streams  filled  the  sea  with  ice  to  such  an  extent  that  even  from  the  highest  mount- 
ains it  was  impossible  to  see  open  water  till  it  was  broken  up  by  the  action  of  the 
waves.  It  then  drifted  westward  as  far  as  Reykjanes,  and  up  into  the  rivers  along 
the  coast,  so  that  large  icebergs  were  left  standing  in  the  bed  of  the  river  in  the 
Olfusa.  The  greater  portion,  however,  of  the  ice  that  had  been  washed  down  from 
the  glacier  remained  fixed  aground  at  a  distance  of  about  seven  miles  from  land,  in  a 
hundred  fathoms  water.  It  formed,  moreover,  a  high  ridge  over  the  land  from  t In- 
sea  as  far  as  Hafrsey,  a  fjeld  on  Myrdalssandr.  ...  A  stream  of  similar  terrific 
character  broke  out  on  the  following  day,  and  submerged  the  masses  of  ice  that  had 
beta  previously  discharged  into  the  sea,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  Further,  it 
made  its  way  through  Kerlingar  valley,  and  dammed  up  the  stream  there.  The 
deluge,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  the  ice,  carried,  moreover,  immense  masses  of 
rock  with  it;  and  in  the  vicinity  of  Hjorlcifshofdi,  a  mountain  mi  Myrdalssandr,  a 
rock  of  twenty  fathoms  in  height,  entirely  disapjteared  ;  not  to  speak  of  other 
instances.  One  can  form  some  idea  of  the  altitude  of  this  barrier  of  ice,  when  it  i* 
mentioned  that  from  Ilofdabrekka  farm,  which  lies  high  up  on  a  fjeld'of  the  same 
name,  one  could  not  see  Hjorlcifshofdi  opposite,  which  is  a  fell  640  feet  in  height  ; 
but  in  order  to  do  so,  had  to  clamber  up  a  mountain  slope  east  of  Hofdahrckka,  1200 
feet  high.  The  distance  l>ctwecn  Ilofdabrekka  and  Hjm-leiMiofdi  is  one  (Danish) 
geographical  mile,  or  the  fifteenth  part  of  a  degree." 


chap.  vi.  FBEBLENES8  OF  GLACIER  ACTION.  i:*7 

narrative,  there  is  not,  I  think,  any  reason  to  doubt  the  literal 
accuracy  of  the  particular  point  to  which  attention  has  just  been 
drawn ;  and  hence  it  would  appear  that  the  effects  produced 
mi  rocks  by  glacier  ice  in  rapid  motion  may  be  identical  with 
those  caused  by  it  after  a  great  lapse  of  time,  working  at  a  slower 
rate. 

3.  These  results  are  not  surprising  when  we  remember  that 
glaciers  are  always  endeavouring  to  work  in  right  lines.  This  is 
proved  by  the  marks  they  leave,  which  Agassiz  has  well  pointed 
out  (see  note  to  p.  133)  are  always  more  or  less  rectilinear. 

This  disposition  to  work  in  right  lines,  combined  with  inability 
to  operate  upon  depressions  (except  to  the  limited  extent  already 
shewn),  points  to  the  reason  why  it  is  that  "  ultimately  all  angles, 
and  almost  all  curves,  are  obliterated,  and  large  areas  of  flat 
surfaces  are  produced"  (p.  128). 

It  should  be  observed  that  glaciated  rocks,  of  the  forms  termed 
moutonne'es,  cannot  possibly  have  been  eroded  to  any  great  depth 
by  glaciers  during  the  modern1  glacial  period. 

The  degree  of  flatness  of  glaciated  rocks  bears  a  direct  relation 
to  the  amount  of  power  which  has  been  employed.  In  the  earlier 
stages  (§§  2-7)  the  forms  are  round ;  in  the  more  advanced  ones, 
they  are  flat.  The  rotundity  of  the  form  of  roches  moutonnees  is 
proof  that  no  great  amount  of  destruction  has  taken  place;  and 
their  lee-sides  are  additional  and  equally  strong  evidence. 

4.  For,  unless  it  can  be  shewn  to  have  been  produced  subse- 
quently to  the  retreat  of  the  ice,  even  a  single  lee-side  to  a  glaciated 
rock  informs  us  that  we  see  a  surface  which  was  exposed  to  the 
atmosphere  before  the  glaciers  began  to  work;  while  many  U&*ides, 
found  together,  one  after  another,  within  an  area  of  a  few  yards 
(and  they  are  often  so  found  in  localities  where  enormous  depth  of 
excavation  has  been  presumed  to  have  taken  place  through  glacier 

1  Geologists  speak  of  glacial  i>criotU  of  a  much  more  remote  date  than  that  to 
which  I  am  referring. 

T 


L88  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  ohaf.  * 

agency),  renders  it  certain  that  the  entire  surface  of  the  bed-rock 

has  Ihm-ii  lowered,  at  the  most,  bat  ii  few  yards. 

Weathered  rocks,  upon  a  small  scale,  do  not  take  shapes  such 
as  an-  figured  in  this  diagram,  but  rather  such  as  those  which  are 
shewn  in  Fig.  1,  ]».  131.  We  do  not  find  deep  pits  or  troughs 
produced  in  rocks  (whatever  may  be  their 
nature  or  composition)  by  weathering  or 
through  any  of  the  ordinary  operations  of 
nature.  Still  less  do  we  find  a  large  number  of 
such  pits  or  troughs  close  to  one  another.  Therefore,  when  we  see 
lee-s.ides  as  at  D  and  F,  Fig.  3,  p.  131  (separated,  perhaps,  from  each 
other  by  a  distance  of  less  than  a  dozen  feet ;  and  representing,  as 
it  has  been  already  stated,  the  remains  of  hollows  or  fractures 
which  existed  before  the  glacier  began  to  work),  it  is  certain  that 
the  eminences  B  C,  between  them,  have  been  lowered  only  a  few 
feet;  and  probable  that  the  depth  of  the  rock  which  has  been 
removed  does  not  exceed  the  length  of  a  line  drawn  from  D  to  P. 

The  unworn  lee-sides  to  glaciated  rocks  have,  therefore,  a  special 
value,  as  they  afford  indications  (although  imperfect  ones)  of  the 
amount  of  excavation  that  has  been  performed  by  the  glaciers 
which  worked  above  and  around  them. 

5.  In  §  6  it  was  stated  that  the  amount,  in  depth,  of  the  matter 
which  is  removed  constantly  diminishes,  if  the  power  that  is  em- 
ployed continues  to  be  the  same.  That  is  to  say,  if  a  glacier  1000 
feet  thick,  moving  down  a  valley  at  the  rate  of  300  feet  per  annum, 
is  able  to  remove  a  depth  of  one  inch  from  the  whole  of  those  por- 
tions of  the  surfaces  that  it  touches,  in  the  course  of  one  year,  the 
amount  that  it  will  remove  in  the  course  of  the  next  (assuming 
that  the  depth  of  1000  feet  is  maintained,  and  the  rate  of  motion 
is  the  same)  will  not  be  one  inch,  but  will  be  something  less; 
because  the  power  employed  will  l>e  distributed  over  a  greater  area. 
It  does  not,  however,  follow  that  the  bulk  of  the  matter  which  is 
removed  will  be  less  and  less  from  the  very  beginning. 


chap.  vi.   CONSTANT  DIMINUTION  IN  EFFECTS  PRODUCED.   139 

There  cannot,  however,  be  a  doubt  but  that,  after  a  certain  lapse 
of  time,  the  bulk  of  the  matter  removed  becomes  less  ami  less. 

For  these  reasons.  The  rock  that  is  removed  is  taken  away  by 
friction.  Of  two  kinds.  The  first,  of  the  foreign  matter  imbedded 
in  the  bottom  of  the  glacier  (or  rolling  underneath  it)  against  the 
bed-rock,  which  foreign  matter  it  has  been  already  pointed  out 
(§  9)  is  derived  from  two  sources — namely,  from  the  rock-bed  itself, 
and  from  masses  which  have  fallen  on  to  the  surface  of  the 
glacier,  and  afterwards  worked  their  way  down. 

It  is  obvious,  as  the  rocks  which  are  being  operated  upon  by 
the  glacier  become  more  and  more  smooth,  that  the  supply  from 
the  first  of  these  sources  must  constantly  diminish.  It  is  equally 
certain  that  when  the  rock-bed  has  lost  many  of  its  asperities,  and 
the  glacier — so  to  speak — fits  more  closely  to  it,  the  matter  which 
falls  from  above  has  greater  difficulty  in  getting  between  the  ice 
and  the  rock-bed.  Here  are  two  ways  of  accounting  for  the  fact 
that  stria tions  are  rare  or  wanting  upon  roclies  niveUes,  and  it  will 
now  be  perceived  why  it  was  said  (§  9)  that  striations  "  indicate  a 
comparatively  early  and  coarse  stage  of  glacier  action." 

There  remains  to  be  considered  the  friction  of  the  ice  itself 
against  the  rock -bed.  This,  too,  must  diminish  as  the  surfaces 
over  which  the  glacier  passes  become  smooth  and  flatter.  The 
more  thoroughly  parallel  the  bottom  of  the  glacier  and  the  bed- 
rock are  to  each  other,  the  less  friction  will  there  be,  and  the  less 
abrasion. 

There  is  therefore  good  reason  to  believe  that  not  only  is  the 
depth  of  rock  removed  from  any  given  place  less  and  less  year 
by  year,  but  that  the  total  amount  of  matter  removed  by  the  glacier 
constantly  diminishes.  Just  as  a  smoothing-plane,  that  is  set  fine, 
will  take  shaving  after  shaving  from  a  plank  (each  shaving  being 
t hi inier  than  the  last),  and  at  length  glides  over  the  wood  without 
producing  any  effect  except  a  kind  of  rude  polishing  ;  so  a  glacier, 
passing  over  rocks,  takes  shaving  after  shaving  (in  the  form  of  sand 
or  mud),  and  at  length  glides  on,  and  puts  the  finishing  touches,  by 


140  SCRAMBLES  AM0N0BT  TEE  ALPS.  chap.  vt. 

polishing,  to  the  surfaces  which  it  had  formerly  prepared  hy  rasping 
and  filing. 

The  calculations  of  the  effects  that  have  been  produced  by 
glacier  agency,  which  are  based  on  the  assumption  that  theamounl 
of  material  removed  is  the  same  from  one  year  t<»  another,  are 
necessarily  fallacious.  There  are  not,  moreover,  any  data  from 
which  the  amount  of  work  can  be  calculated  that  glaciers  perform 
in  any  given  time;  but  there  are  indications  in  that  direction,  and. 
so  far  as  they  go,  they  seem  to  point  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
effects  which  they  have  produced,  in  the  way  of  making  hollows, 
are  much  less  important   than  some  suppose. 

6.  If  I  were  asked  whether  the  action  of  glacier  upon  rocks 
should  be  considered  as  chiefly  destructive  or  conservative,  I  should 
answer,  without  hesitation,  principally  as  conservative.  It  is 
destructive,  certainly,  to  a  limited  extent;  but,  like  a  mason  who 
dresses  a  column  that  is  to  be  afterwards  polished,  the  glacier 
removes  a  small  portion  of  the  stone  upon  which  it  works,  in  order 
that  the  rest  may  be  more  effectually  preserved.  By  obliterating 
the  inequalities  of  the  rock,  and,  consequently,  by  reducing  the 
area  of  the  surfaces  which  are  exposed  to  the  atmosphere  to  a 
minimum,  the  glacier,  when  it  retires,  leaves  the  rock  in  the  best 
possible  condition  to  withstand  the  attacks  of  heat,  cold,  and 
water. 

It  has  been  pointed  out,  times  without  number  (even  by  those 
who  are  in  the  habit  of  accusing  glaciers  of  the  most  frightful 
destructiveness),  that  the  polished  surfaces  which  they  leave 
behind  them  seem  to  be  imperishable.  All  who  know  are  agreed 
that  centuries,  nay,  thousands  of  years,  pass  away,  and  still  the 
rochr.n  moutonndes  retain   their  form. 

In  regard  to  the  action  of  the  glacier,  when  it  is  in  full  life  and 
activity,  all  are  not  so  agreed.  I'.ut  when  one  finds  evidence  that 
glaciers  which  existed  through  vast  periods  of  time  did  nothing 
more  than  rovntl  pre-existing  weathered   forms,  i/ress  rough  and 


chap.  vi.    CONSERVATION  OF  ROCKS  BY  GLACIER  ACTION.     141 

onevBD  surfaces,  and  did  not  even  entirely  destroy  the  destructive 
work  of  the  older  and  greater  powers:  while  those  powers  were  at 
the  same  time  delving  into  the  rocks  which  the  glaciers  were  not 
covering ;  were  not  reducing  the  area  of  exposed  surfaces,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  were  continually  increasing  them,  and  were  hurting 
down  vast  masses,  of  which  but  a  small  portion  fell  on  to  the 
glaciers  (but  which  small  portion  probably  equalled  or  exceeded 
in  bulk  all  that  the  glaciers  were  removing),  the  conclusion  can 
hardly  be  avoided  that  glaciers,  in  their  life  as  well  as  after  their 
death,  either  considered  upon  their  own  account  or  in  comparison 
with  other  powers,  should  be  regarded  as  eminently  conservative 
in  their  acts  and  in  their  intentions. 

We  finished  up  the  3rd  of  August  with  a  walk  over  the  Findelen 
Glacier,  and  returned  to  Zermatt  at  a  later  hour  than  we  intended, 
both  very  sleepy.  This  is  noteworthy  only  on  account  of  that  which 
followed.  We  intended  to  cross  the  Col  de  Valpelline  on  the  next 
day,  and  an  early  start  was  desirable.  Monsieur  Seiler,  excellent 
man,  knowing  this,  called  us  himself,  and  when  he  came  to  my  door, 
I  answered,  "All  right,  Seiler,  I  will  get  up,"  and  immediately 
turned  over  to  the  other  side,  saying  to  myself,  "  First  of  all,  ten 
minutes  more  sleep."  But  Seiler  waited  and  listened,  and,  suspect- 
ing the  case,  knocked  again.  "Herr  Whymper,  have  you  got  a 
light  ? "  Without  thinking  what  the  consequences  might  be,  I 
answered,  "  No,"  and  then  the  worthy  man  actually  forced  the  lock 
off  his  own  door  to  give  me  one.  By  similar  and  equally  friendly  and 
disinterested  acts,  Monsieur  Seiler  acquired  his  enviable  reputation. 

At  4  a.m.  we  left  his  Monte  Rosa  Hotel,  and  were  soon 
pushing  our  way  through  the  thickets  of  grey  alder  that  skirt 
the  path  up  the  picturesque  little  valley  which  leads  to  the 
Z'Muttgletscher.1 

Nothing  can  seem  or  be  more  inaccessible  than  the  Matterhora 

1  The  path  on  the  right  bauk  (southern  side)  of  the  valley  is  much  more 
picturesque  than  that  on  the  other  side.  For  our  route,  see  the  maj>s  of  the  valley 
of  Zermatt  and  the  valley  of  Valpelline. 


142  SCRAM  RLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  «  mm-,  vi. 

upon  this  side,  ami  even  in  cold  blood  one  holds  the  breatli  when 
It M>king  at  its  stupendous  cliffs.  There  are  few  equal  to  them  in 
size  in  the  Alps,  and  there  are  none  which  can  more  truly  be 
termed  precipices.  Greatest  of  them  all  is  the  immense  north  el  ill, 
— that  which  bends  over  towards  the  Z'Muttgletscher.  Stums 
which  drop  from  the  top  of  that  amazing  wall  fall  for  about  L500 
feet  before  they  touch  anything ;  and  those  which  roll  down  from 
above,  and  bound  over  it,  fall  to  a  much  greater  depth,  and  leap 
well  nigh  1000  feet  beyond  its  base.  This  side  of  the  mountain 
has  always  seemed  sombre — sad — terrible.  It  is  painfully  sugges- 
tive of  decay,  ruin,  and  death ;  and  it  is  now,  alas !  more  than 
terrible  by  its  associations. 

"  There  is  no  aspect  of  destruction  about  the  Matterhorn  dill's, " 
says  Professor  Euskin.  Granted, — when  they  are  seen  from  alar. 
But  approach,  and  sit  down  by  the  side  of  the  Z'Muttgletscher, 
and  you  will  hear  that  their  piecemeal  destruction  is  proceeding 
ceaselessly — incessantly.  You  will  licar,  but,  probably,  you  will 
not  see ;  for  even  when  the  descending  masses  thunder  as  loudly  as 
heavy  guns,  and  the  echoes  roll  back  from  the  Ebihorn  opposite, 
they  will  still  be  as  pin-points  against  the  grand  old  face,  so  vast 
is  its  scale ! 

If  you  would  see  the  '  aspects  of  destruction,'  you  must  come 
still  closer,  and  climb  its  cliffs  and  ridges,  or  mount  to  the  plateau 
of  the  Matterhorngletscher,  which  is  cut  up  and  ploughed  up  by 
these  missiles,  and  strewn  on  the  surface  with  their  smaller 
fragments.  The  larger  masses,  falling  with  tremendous  velocity, 
plunge  into  the  snow  and  are  lost  to  sight. 

The  Matterhorngletscher,  too,  sends  down  its  avalanches,  as  if 
in  rivalry  with  the  rocks  behind.  Round  the  whole  of  its  northern 
side  it  does  not  terminate  in  the  usual  manner  by  gentle  slopes, 
but  comes  to  a  sudden  end  at  the  top  of  the  sleep  rocks  which  lie 
betwixt  it  and  the  Z'Muttgletscher;  and  seldom  does  an  hour  pass 
without  a  huge  slice  breaking  away,  and  falling  with  wild  uproar 
on  to  the  slopes  below,  where  it  is  re-compacted. 


thai',  vi.  AN  EXTRAORDINARY  ACCIDENT.  143 

The  desolate  pines  on  the  outskirts  of  the  Z'Mutt  forests, 
stripped  of  their  bark,  and  blanched  by  the  weather,  are  a  fit  fore- 
ground to  a  scene  that  can  hardly  be  surpassed  in  solemn  grandeur. 
It  is  a  subject  worthy  of  the  pencil  of  a  great  painter,  and  one 
win cli  woidd  tax  the  powers  of  the  very  greatest. 

Higher  up  the  glacier  the  mountain  is  less  savage  in  appear- 
ance, though  scarcely  less  impracticable;  and,  three  hours  later, 
when  we  arrived  at  the  island  of  rock  called  the  Stockje  (which 
marks  the  end  of  the  Z'Muttgletscher  proper,  and  separates  its 
higher  feeder,  the  Stockgletscher,  from  its  lower  and  greater  one, 
the  Tiefenmatten),  Carrel  himself,  one  of  the  least  demonstrative  of 
men,  could  not  refrain  from  expressing  wonder  at  the  steepness  of 
its  faces,  and  at  the  audacity  that  had  prompted  us  to  camp  upon 
the  south-west  ridge ;  the  profile  of  which  is  seen  very  well  from 
the  Stockje.1  Carrel  then  saw  the  north  and  north-west  sides  of  the 
mountain  for  the  first  time,  and  was  more  firmly  persuaded  than 
ever,  that  an  ascent  was  possible  only  from  the  direction  of  Breuil. 

Three  years  afterwards  I  was  traversing  the  same  spot  with  the 
guide  Franz  Biener,  when  all  at  once  a  puff  of  wind  brought  to  us 
a  very  bad  smell;  and,  on  looking  about,  we  discovered  a  dead 
chamois  half-way  up  the  southern  cliff's  of  the  Stockje.  We  clam- 
bered up,  and  found  that  it  had  been  killed  by  a  most  uncommon 
and  extraordinary  accident.  It  had  slipped  on  the  upper  rocks, 
had  rolled  over  and  over  down  a  slope  of  debris,  without  being 
able  to  regain  its  feet,  had  fallen  over  a  little  patch  of  rocks  that 
projected  through  the  debris,  and  had  caught  the  points  of  both 
horns  on  a  tiny  ledge,  not  an  inch  broad.  It  had  just  been  able 
to  touch  the  debris,  where  it  led  away  down  from  the  rocks,  and 

1  Professor  Ituskiu's  view  of  "the  Cervin  from  the  north-west"  (Modern  Painters, 
vol.  iv.)  is  taken  from  the  Stockje.  The  Col  du  Lion  is  the  little  depression  on  the 
ridge,  close  to  the  margin  of  the  engraving,  on  the  right-hand  side  ;  the  third  tent- 
platform  was  formed  at  the  foot  of  the  perpendicular  cliff,  on  the  ridge,  exactly  one- 
third  way  between  the  Col  du  Lion  and  the  summit.  The  battlemented  portion  of 
the  ridge,  a  little  higher  up,  is  called  the  '  crite  du  coq  ; '  and  the  nearly  horizontal 
portion  of  the  ridge  above  it  is  'the  shoulder.' 


in  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  .mm-,  to 

1  i;it I  pawed  and  scratched  until  it  could  no  longer  touch.  It  bad 
evidently  hcen  starved  to  death,  and  we  found  the  poor  beast 
almost  swinging  in  the  air,  with  its  bead  thrown  back  and  tongue 
protruding,  Looking  to  the  sky  at  it'  imploring  help. 

We  had  no  such  excitement  an  this  in  L863,  and  crossed  tins 
easy  pass  to  the  chalets  of  Prerayen  in  a  \n  v  Leisurely  fashion. 
From  the  summit  to  Prerayen  let  us  descend  in  one  step.  The 
way  has  been  described  before;  and  those  who  wish  for  informa- 
tion about  it  should  consult  the  description  of  Mr.  Jacomb,  the 
discoverer  of  the  pass.1  Nor  need  we  stop  at  Prerayen,  except  to 
remark  that  the  owner  of  the  chalets  (who  has  sometimes  been 
taken  for  a  common  herdsman)  must  not  be  judged  by  appear- 
ances. He  is  a  man  of  substance,  with  many  flocks  and  herds : 
and  although,  when  approached  politely,  he  is  courteous,  he 
(and  probably  will)  act  as  the  Toaster  of  Prerayen  if  his  position 
is  not  recognised,  and  with  all  the  importance  of  a  man  who 
pays  taxes  to  the  extent  of  500  francs  per  annum  to  bis 
government. 

The  hill-tops  were  clouded  when  we  rose  from  our  hay  on  the 
5th  of  August.  We  decided  not  to  continue  the  tour  of  our 
mountain  immediately,  and  returned  over  our  track  of  the  pre- 

1   /''»/>.  .   (I  (Uaeurx,  .second  series,   vol.  i.,   pp.   313-38. 

The  summit  of  the  Col  de  Valpelline  is  about  11,680  feet  above  the  sea.  The 
pass  is  the  easiest  one  in  the  Alps  of  tliis  height,  and  (if  the  best  route  is  followed) 
it  may  be  crossed  daring  line  weather,  under  favourable  circumstances,  without 
cutting  a  single  step.  If  one  does  not  take  the  best  route,  the  pass,  however,  may 
become  a  difficult  one.  Much  time  and  trouble  will  he  saved  by  strictly  adhering  to 
th>-  left  bank  (eastern  side)  of  the  Za-de-Zan  (Zardesan)  glaofer.  Mr.  Jaeomb 
followed  the  right  hank. 

There  is  a  very  tine  view  from  a  point  that  is  situated  about  two-thirds  of  a 
mile  S.  by  E.  of  the  summit  of  the  Col.  This  is  marked  3813  metres  (=12,410 
feet)  on  the  map  of  the  Valley  of  Zermatt.  It  is  connected  with  the  Col  by  -now- 
covered  glacier  at  a  very  moderate  angle,  and  from  it  one  looks  well  over  the  Tfite 
Blanche,  which  is  200  feet  less  in  elevation.  I  ascended  it  in  1866,  presumably  for 
the  first  time.  On  recently  published  maps  of  the  Swiss  Survey,  it  is  called 
de  Valpelline.' 


CHAP.  vi.  ON  THE  DENT  HHERENS  (OR  D'ERIN).  145 

ceding  day  to  the  highest  chalet  on  the  left  bank  of  the  valley,1 
with  the  intention  of  attacking  the  Dent  d'Herens  (d'Erin)  on  the 
next  morning.  We  were  interested  in  this  summit,  more  on 
account  of  the  excellent  view  which  it  commanded  of  the  south- 
west ridge  and  the  terminal  peak  of  the  Matterhorn,  than  from 
any  other  reason. 

The  Dent  d'Herens  had  not  been  ascended  at  this  time,  and  we 
had  diverged  from  our  route  on  the  4th,  and  had  scrambled  some 
distance  up  the  base  of  Mont  Brule*,  to  see  how  far  its  south- 
western slopes  were  assailable.  We  were  divided  in  opinion  as  to 
the  best  way  of  approaching  the  peak.  Carrel,  true  to  his  habit 
of  sticking  to  rocks  in  preference  to  ice,  counselled  ascending  by 
the  long  buttress  of  the  Tete  de  Bella  Cia  (which  descends  towards 
the  west,  and  forms  the  southern  boundary  of  the  last  glacier  that 
falls  into  the  Glacier  de  Za-de-Zan),  and  thence  traversing  the 
heads  of  all  the  tributaries  of  the  Za-de-Zan  to  the  western  and 
rocky  ridge  of  the  Dent.  I,  on  the  other  hand,  proposed  to  follow 
the  Glacier  de  Za-de-Zan  itself  throughout  its  entire  length,  and 
from  the  plateau  at  its  head  (where  my  proposed  route  would 
cross  Carrel's)  to  make  directly  towards  the  summit,  up  the  snow- 
covered  glacier  slope,  instead  of  by  the  western  ridge.  The 
hunchback,  who  was  accompanying  us  on  these  excursions, 
declared  in  favour  of  Carrel's  route,  and  it  was  accordingly 
adopted. 

The  first  part  of  the  programme  was  successfully  executed; 
and  at  10.30  a.m.  on  the  6th  of  August,  we  were  sitting  astride 
the  western  ridge,  at  a  height  of  about  12,500  feet,  looking  down 
upon  the  Tiefenmatten  Glacier.  To  all  appearance  another  hour 
would  place  us  on  the  summit ;   but  in  another  hour  we  found 

1  See  map  of  the  Valley  of  Valpelline.  The  chalet  is  marked  "la  vielle." 
The  reader  will  probably  notice  the  discrepancies  between  this  part  of  the  map 
of  the  Valley  of  Zermatt  and  that  of  the  Valley  of  Valpelline.  The  latter  one  is 
correct  The  former  is  after  the  Swiss  Government  map,  which  is  extremely 
accurate  on  the  Swiss  side  of  the  frontier  line,  but  does  not  pretend  to  be  so  on  the 
Italian  side. 

U 


146  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  Airs.  ohap.  vl 

thai  we  were  not  destined  to  succeed.  The  ridge  (like  all  of 
tin-  principal  rocky  ridges  <>!'  the  meat  peaks  apon  which  I  have 
Btood)  had  been  completely  shattered  by  frost,  and  was  nothing 
more  than  a  heap  of  piled-up  fragments.     It  was  always  narrow, 

and  where  it  was  narrowest  it  was  also  the  most  unstable  and  the 
mosi  difficult    On  neither  side  could  we  ascend  it  by  keeping  a 

little  below  its  crest, — on  the  side  of  the   Tiefenmat  ten   because   it 

was  too  steep,  and  mi  both  sides  because  the  dislodgment  of  a 
single  block  would  have  disturbed  the  equilibrium  of  all  those 

which  were  above.  Forced,  therefore,  to  keep  to  the  very  crest  of 
the  ridge,  and  unable  to  deviate  a  single  step  either  to  the  right  or 
to  the  left,  we  were  compelled  to  trust  ourselves  upon  unsteady 
masses,  which  trembled  under  our  tread,  which  sometimes  settled 

down,  grating  in  a  hollow  and  ominous  manner,  and  which  seemed 
as  if  a  little  shake  would  send  the  whole  roaring  down  in  one 
great   avalanche. 

I  followed  my  leader,  who  said  not  a  word,  and  did  not  rebel 
until  we  came  to  a  place  where  a  block  had  to  be  surmounted 
which  lav  poised  across  the  ridge.  Carrel  could  not  climb  it 
without  assistance,  or  advance  beyond  it  until  I  joined  him 
above;  and  as  he  stepped  off  my  back  on  to  it,  I  felt  it  quiver  and 
bear  down  upon  me.  I  doubted  the  possibility  of  another  man 
standing  upon  it  without  bringing  it  down.  Then  1  rebelled. 
There  was  no  honour  to  be  gained  by  persevering,  or  dishonour  in 

taming  from  a  place  which  was  dangerous  on  account  of  its 
excessive  difficulty.  So  we  returned  to  l'lerayen,  for  there  was 
too  little  time  to  allow  us  to  re-ascend  by  the  other  route,  which 
was  subsequently  shewn  to  be  the  righl  way  up  the  mountain. 

Four  days  afterwards  a  party  of  Englishmen  (including  my 
friends.  \Y.  B.  Hall,  Craufurd  Grove,  and  Reginald  Macdonald), 
arrived  in  the  Valpelline,  and  ('unaware  of  OUT  attempt]  on  the 
li'th.  under  the  skilful  guidance  of  Melchior  Anderegg,  made  the 
first  ascent   of  the    Dent  d'Herena  by  the  route  which   I    had 

proposed.      This   is   the  only  mountain   in   the   Alps  which    I    have 


8HAP.VL  THE  GRAND  TOURNALIN.  147 

essayed  to  ascend,  that  has  not,  sooner  or  later,  fallen  to  me. 
Our  failure  was  mortifying,  but  I  am  satisfied  that  we  did  wisely 
in  returning,  and  that  if  we  had  persevered,  by  Carrel's  route, 
another  Alpine  accident  would  have  been  recorded.1 

On  the  7th  of  August  we  crossed  the  Va  Cornere  pass,2  and 
had  a  good  look  at  the  mountain  named  the  Grand  Tournalin  as 
we  descended  the  Val  de  Chignana.  This  mountain  was  seen  from 
so  many  points,  and  was  so  much  higher  than  any  peak  in  its 
immediate  neighbourhood,  that  it  was  bound  to  give  a  very  fine 
view;  and  (as  the  weather  continued  unfavourable  for  the  Matter- 
horn)  I  arranged  with  Carrel  to  ascend  it  the  next  day,  and 
despatched  him  direct  to  the  village  of  Yal  Tournanche  to  make 
the  necessary  preparations,  whilst  I,  with  Meynet,  made  a  short 

1  On  p.  11  it  is  stated  that  there  was  not  a  pass  from  Prerayen  to  Breuil  in  1860, 
and  this  is  correct  On  July  8,  1868,  my  enterprising  guide,  Jean-Autoine  Carrel, 
started  from  Breuil  at  2  a.m.  with  a  trusty  comrade — J.  Baptiste  Bich,  of  Val 
Tournanche — to  endeavour  to  make  one.  They  went  towards  the  glacier  which 
descends  from  the  Dent  d'Herens  to  the  south-east,  and  on  arriving  at  its  base, 
ascended  at  first  by  some  snow  between  it  and  the  cliffs  on  its  south,  and  afterwards 
took  to  the  cliffs  themselves.  This  glacier  they  called  the  glacier  of  Mont  Albert, 
after  the  local  name  of  the  peak  which  on  Mr.  Reilly's  map  of  the  Valpelline  is 
called  '  Les  Jumeaux.'  On  Mr.  Reilly's  map  the  glacier  is  called  '  Glacier  d'Erin.' 
They  ascended  the  rocks  to  a  considerable  height,  and  then  struck  across  the  glacier, 
towards  the  north,  to  a  small  '  roynon '  (isolated  patch  of  rocks)  that  is  nearly  in  the 
centre  of  the  glacier.  They  passed  above  this,  and  between  it  and  the  great  stracs. 
Afterwards  their  route  led  them  towards  the  Dent  d'Herens,  and  they  arrived  at  the 
base  of  its  final  peak  by  mounting  a  couloir  (gully  filled  with  snow),  and  the  rocks  at 
the  head  of  the  glacier.  They  gained  the  summit  of  their  pass  at  1  p.m.,  and, 
descending  by  the  glacier  of  Za-de-Zan,  arrived  at  Prerayen  at  6.30  v.  m. 

As  their  route  joins  that  taken  by  Messrs.  Hall,  Grove,  and  Macdonald,  on  their 
ascent  of  the  Dent  d'Herens  in  1863,  it  is  evident  that  that  mountain  can  be 
ascended  from  Breuil.  Carrel  considers  that  the  route  taken  by  himself  and  his 
comrade  Bich  can  be  improved  upon  ;  and,  if  so,  it  is  possible  that  the  ascent  of  the 
Dent  d'Herens  can  be  made  from  Breuil  in  less  time  than  from  Prerayen.  Breuil  is 
very  much  to  be  preferred  as  a  starting-point.  On  July  17-18,  1873,  Mr.  A.  G. 
Puller,  with  J. -J.,  J.-P.,  and  E.  Maquignaz,  and  Louis  Carrel,  ascended  the  Dent 
d'H. •reus  by  this  route,  and  descended  to  Prerayen. 

s  See  pp.  9-11.  The  height  of  this  pass,  according  to  the  late  Canon  Carrel,  is 
10,335  feet 


148  80RAMBLSB  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  ouf.vl 

cut  to  Breuil,  at  the  kick  »>f  Mont  I'amniero,  by  a  little  pass 
locally  known  a>  the  Col  de  Kenetre.  1  rejoined  Oarre]  the  nine 
evening  at  Val  Tournanchc,  and  we  started  from  that  place  at  a 
little  before  5  A.M.  on  the  8th,  to  attack  the  Tournalin. 

liejnet  was  left  behind  for  that  day,  and  most  unwillingly  did 
the  hunchback  part  from  us,  and  lagged  hard  to  be  allowed  to 
come.  "  Pay  me  nothing,  only  let  me  go  with  you;"  "I  shall 
want  but  a  little  bread  and  cheese,  and  1  won't  eat  much;" 
'•  I  would  much  rather  go  with  you  than  carry  things  down 
the  \ alley."  Such  were  his  arguments,  and  I  was  really  sorry 
that  the  rapidity  of  our  movements  obliged  us  to  desert  the  good 
little  man. 

Carrel  led  over  the  meadows  on  the  south  and  east  of  the  bluff 
upon  which  the  village  of  Val  Tournanche  is  built,  and  then  by  a 
zigzag  path  through  a  long  and  steep  forest,  making  many  short 
cuts,  which  shewed  he  had  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  ground. 
After  we  came  again  into  daylight,  our  route  took  us  up  one  of 
those  little,  concealed,  lateral  valleys  which  are  so  numerous  on 
the  slopes  bounding  the  Val  Tournanche. 

This  valley,  the  Combe  de  Ceneil,  has  a  general  easterly  trend, 
and  contains  but  one  small  cluster  of  houses  (Ceneil).  The  Tour- 
nalin is  situated  at  the  head  of  the  Combe,  and  nearly  due  east  of 
the  village  of  Val  Tournanche,  but  from  that  place  no  part  of  the 
mountain  is  visible.  After  Ceneil  is  passed  it  comes  into  view, 
rising  above  a  cirque  of  cliffs  (streaked  by  several  fine  waterfalls), 
at  the  end  of  the  Combe.  To  avoid  these  cliffs  the  path  bendfl 
somewhat  to  the  south,  keeping  throughout  to  the  left  bank  of  the 
valley,  and  at  about  3500  feet  above  Val  Tournanche,  and  1500 
feet  al>ove  Ceneil  and  a  mile  or  so  to  its  east,  arrives  at  the  base  of 
some  moraines,  which  are  remarkably  large  considering  the  dimen- 
sions of  the  glaciers  which  formed  them.  The  ranges  upon  the 
western  side  of  the  Val  Tournanche  are  seen  to  great  advantage 
from  this  spot;  but  here  the  path  ends  and  the  way  steepens. 

When  we  arrived  at  these  moraines,  we  had  a  choice  of  fcWO 


i  a  vi'.  vi.     FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE  GRAND  TOURNALIN  149 

routes.  One,  continuing  to  the  east,  over  the  moraines  themselves, 
the  debris  above  them,  and  a  large  snow-bed  still  higher  up,  to 
a  kind  of  col  or  depression  to  the  smith  of  the  peak,  whence  an 
easy  ridge  led  towards  the  summit.  The  other,  over  a  shrunken 
glacier  on  our  north-east  (now,  perhaps,  not  in  existence),  which 
led  to  a  well-marked  col  on  the  north  of  the  peak,  whence  a 
less  easy  ridge  rose  directly  to  the  highest  point.  We  followed 
the  first  named  of  these  routes,  and  in  a  little  more  than  half-an- 
hour  stood  upon  the  Col,  which  commanded  a  most  glorious  view 
of  the  southern  side  of  Monte  Rosa,  and  of  the  ranges  to  its  east, 
and  to  the  east  of  the  Val  d'Ayas. 

Whilst  we  were  resting  at  this  point  a  large  party  of  vagrant 
chamois  arrived  on  the  summit  of  the  mountain  from  the  northern 
side,  some  of  whom — by  their  statuesque  position — seemed  to  ap- 
preciate the  grand  panorama  by  which  they  were  surrounded, 
while  others  amused  themselves,  like  two-legged  tourists,  in  rolling 
stones  over  the  cliffs.  The  clatter  of  these  falling  fragments  made 
us  look  up.  The  chamois  were  so  numerous  that  we  could  not 
count  them,  and  were  clustered  around  the  summit,  totally  un- 
aware of  our  presence.  They  scattered  in  a  panic,  as  if  a  shell 
had  burst  amongst  them,  when  saluted  by  the  cries  of  my  excited 
comrade ;  and  plunged  wildly  down  in  several  directions,  with 
unfaltering  and  unerring  bounds,  with  such  speed  and  with  such 
grace  that  we  were  filled  with  admiration  and  respect  for  their 
mountaineering  abilities. 

The  ridge  that  led  from  the  Col  towards  the  summit  was 
singularly  easy,  although  well  broken  up  by  frost,  and  Carrel 
thought  that  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  arrange  a  path  for  mules 
out  of  the  shattered  blocks;  but  when  we  arrived  on  the  summit 
we  found  ourselves  separated  from  the  very  highest  point  by 
a  cleft  which  had  been  concealed  up  to  that  time.  Its  southern 
side  was  nearly  perpendicular,  but  it  was  only  fourteen  or  fifteen 
feet  deep.  Can-el  lowered  me  down,  and  afterwards  descended  on 
to  the  head  of  my  axe,  and  subsequently  on  to  my  shoulders,  with 


I.-hj 


scii.iMi;u-:s   \m<>x<;st  the  alts. 


CHAP.  \l. 


a  cleverness  which  was  almost  as  fur  removed   from  mv  awkwanl- 
ne88  as  his  own  efforts  were  from  those  of  the  chamois.     A  i<\\ 

easy  steps  then  placed  us  on  the  higl 
point.  It  had  not  been  ascended  before, 
and  we  commemorated  the  event  by 
building  a  huge  cairn,  which  was  B669B 
for  many  a  mile,  and  would  have  lasted 
for  many  a  year,  had  it  not  been  thrown 
down  by  the  orders  of  the  late  Canon 
Carrel,  on  account  of  its  interrupting 
the  sweep  of  a  camera  which  he  took  to 
the  lower  summit  in  1868,  in  order  to 
photograph  the  panorama.  According 
to  the  Italian  Survey,  the  sum  mil  of  the 
Grand  Tournalin  is  6086  feet  above  the 
village  of  Val  Tournanche,  and  11,086 
feet  above  the  sea.  Its  ascent  (includ- 
ing halts)  occupied  us  only  four  hours. 
I  recommend  the  ascent  of  the  Tour- 
nalin to  any  person  who  has  a  day  to 
spare  in  the  Val  Tournanche.  It  should 
be  remembered,  however  (if  its  ascent  is 
made  for  the  sake  of  the  view),  that 
these  southern  Pennine  Alps  seldom  re- 
main unclouded  after  mid-day,  and,  indeed,  frequently  not  later 
than  10  or  11  a.m.  Towards  sunset  the  equilibrium  of  the  atmo- 
sphere is  restored,  and  the  clouds  very  commonly  disappear. 

I  advise  the  ascent  of  this  mountain  not  on  account  of  its 
height,  or  from  its  accessibility  or  inaccessibility,  but  simply  for 
the  wide  and  splendid  view  which  may  be  seen  from  its  summit. 
Its  position  is  superb,  and  the  list  of  the  peaks  which  can  be  seen 
from  it  includes  almost  the  whole  of  the  principal  mountains  of  the 
Cottian,  Dauphine,  Graian,  Pennine,  and  01x?rland  groups.  The 
view  has,  in  the  highest  perfection,  those  elements  of  picturesque- 


CARREL   LOWERED   ME   DOWN. 


OBAP.  vi.  ON  PANORAMIC  VIEWS.  151 

ness  which  are  wanting  in  the  purely  panoramic  views  seen  from 
higher  summits.  There  are  three  principal  sections,  each  with  a 
central  or  dominating  point,  to  which  the  eye  is  naturally  drawn. 
All  three  alike  are  pictures  in  themselves ;  yet  all  are  dissimilar. 
In  t he  south,  softened  by  the  vapours  of  the  Val  d'Aoste,  extends 
the  long  line  of  the  Graians,  with  mountain  after  mountain  12,000 
feet  and  upwards  in  height.  It  is  not  upon  these,  noble  as  some 
of  them  are,  that  the  eye  will  rest,  but  upon  the  Viso,  far  off  in 
the  background.  In  the  west  and  towards  the  north  the  range  of 
Mont  Blanc,  and  some  of  the  greatest  of  the  Central  Pennine  Alps 
(including  the  Grand  Combin  and  the  Dent  Blanche),  form  the 
background,  but  they  are  overpowered  by  the  grandeur  of  the 
ridges  which  culminate  in  the  Matterhorn.  Nor  in  the  east  and 
north,  where  pleasant  grassy  slopes  lead  downwards  to  the  Val 
d'Ayas,  nor  upon  the  glaciers  and  snow-fields  above  them,  nor  upon 
the  Oberland  in  the  background,  will  the  eye  long  linger,  when 
immediately  in  front,  several  miles  away,  but  seeming  close  at 
hand,  thrown  out  by  the  pure  azure  sky,  there  are  the  glittering 
crests  of  Monte  Rosa. 

Those  who  would,  but  cannot,  stand  upon  the  highest  Alps,  may 
console  themselves  with  the  knowledge  that  they  do  not  usually 
yield  the  views  that  make  the  strongest  and  most  permanent 
impressions.  Marvellous  some  of  the  panoramas  seen  from  the 
greatest  peaks  undoubtedly  are ;  but  they  are  necessarily  without 
those  isolated  and  central  points  which  are  so  valuable  pictorially. 
The  eye  roams  over  a  multitude  of  objects  (each,  perhaps,  grand 
individually),  and,  distracted  by  an  embarrassment  of  riches, 
wanders  from  one  to  another,  erasing  by  the  contemplation  of  the 
next  the  effect  that  was  produced  by  the  last;  and  when  those 
happy  moments  are  over,  which  always  fly  with  too  great  rapidity, 
the  summit  is  left  with  an  impression  that  is  seldom  durable, 
because  it  is  usually  vague. 

No  views  create  such  lasting  impressions  as  those  which  are 
seen  but  for  a  moment,  when  a  veil  of  mist  is  rant  in  twain,  and  a 


152  80RAUBLE8  AMONGST  THE  Airs.  osap.to. 

single  spire  or  dome  is  disclosed.  The  peaks  which  arc  seen  at 
these  moments  are  not,  perhaps,  the  greatest  or  the  noblest,  but  the 
recollection  of  them  outlives  the  memory  of  any  panoramic  view, 
because  the  picture,  photographed  by  the  eye,  has  time  to  dry, 
instead  of  being  blurred,  while  yet  wet,  by  contact  with  other  im- 
pressions. The  reverse  is  the  case  with  the  bird's-eye  panoramic 
views  from  the  great  peaks,  which  sometimes  embrace  a  hundred 
miles  in  nearly  every  direction.  The  eye  is  confounded  by  the 
crowd  of  details,  and  is  unable  to  distinguish  the  relative  importance 
of  the  objects  which  are  seen.  It  is  almost  as  difficult  to  form  a 
just  estimate  (with  the  eye)  of  the  respective  heights  of  a  number 
of  peaks  from  a  very  high  summit,  as  it  is  from  the  bottom  of  a 
valley.  I  think  that  the  grandest  and  the  most  satisfactory  stand- 
points for  viewing  mountain  scenery  are  those  which  are  sufficiently 
elevated  to  give  a  feeling  of  depth,  as  well  as  of  height,  which  arc 
lofty  enough  to  exhibit  wide  and  varied  views,  but  not  so  high  as 
to  sink  everything  to  the  level  of  the  spectator.  The  view  from  the 
Grand  Tournalin  is  a  favourable  example  of  this  class  of  panoramic 

views. 

We  descended  from  the  summit  by  the  northern  route,  and 
found  it  tolerably  stiff  clambering  as  far  as  the  Col.  Thence, 
down  the  glacier,  the  way  was  straightforward,  and  we  joined  tl it- 
route  taken  on  the  ascent  at  the  foot  of  the  ridge  leading  towards 
the  east.     In  the  evening  we  returned  to  Breuil. 

There,  is  an  abrupt  rise  in  the  valley  about  two  miles  to  the 
north  of  the  village  of  Val  Tournanche,  and  at  this  step  the 
torrent  has  eaten  its  way  into  its  bed  and  formed  an  extra- 
ordinary chasm,  which  has  long  been  known  by  the  name  (J  on  fire 
des  Busserailles.  We  lingered  about  this  spot  to  listen  to  the 
thunder  of  the  concealed  water,  and  to  watch  its  tumultuous 
boiling  as  it  issued  from  the  gloomy  cleft,  but  our  efforts  to  peer 
into  the  mysteries  of  the  place  were  battled.  In  November  1865, 
the  intrepid  Carrel  induced  two  trusty  comrades — the  Maquignaz's 
of  Val  Tournanche — to  lower  him  by  a  rope  into  the  chasm  and 


OHAP.YI.  GOUFFRE  DES  BUSSERAILLES.  153 

over  the  cataract.  The  feat  required  iron  nerves,  and  muscles  and 
sinews  of  no  ordinary  kind;  and  its  performance  alone  stamped 
Carrel  as  a  man  of  dauntless  courage.  One  of  the  Maquignaz's 
subsequently  descended  in  the  same  way,  and  these  two  men  were 
so  astonished  at  what  they  saw,  that  they  forthwith  set  to  work 
with  hammer  and  chisel  to  make  a  way  into  this  romantic  gulf. 
In  a  few  days  they  constructed  a  rough  but  convenient  plank 
gallery  into  the  centre  of  the  gouffre,  along  its  walls ;  and,  on  pay- 
ment of  a  franc,  any  one  can  now  enter  the  Gouffre  des  Busserailles. 

I  cannot,  without  a  couple  of  sections  and  a  plan,  give  an  exact 
idea  to  the  reader  of  this  remarkable  place.  It  corresponds  in 
some  of  its  features  to  the  gorge  figured  upon  page  127,  but  it  ex- 
hibits in  a  much  more  notable  manner  the  characteristic  action  and 
extraordinary  power  of  running  water.  The  length  of  the  chasm 
or  gouffre  is  about  320  feet,  and  from  the  top  of  its  walls  to  the 
surface  of  the  water  is  about  110  feet.  At  no  part  can  the  entire 
length  or  depth  be  seen  at  a  glance ;  for,  although  the  width  at 
some  places  is  15  feet  or  more,  the  view  is  limited  by  the  sinuosities 
of  the  walls.  These  are  eveiywhere  polished  to  a  smooth,  vitreous- 
in-appearance  surface.  In  some  places  the  torrent  has  wormed 
into  the  rock,  and  has  left  natural  bridges.  The  most  extraordinary 
features  of  the  Gouffre  des  Busserailles,  however,  are  the  caverns  (or 
marmites  as  they  are  termed),  which  the  water  has  hollowed  out 
of  the  heart  of  the  rock.  Carrel's  plank  path  leads  into  one  of  the 
greatest, —  a  grotto  that  is  about  28  feet  across  at  its  largest 
diameter,  and  15  or  16  feet  high;  roofed  above  by  the  living 
rock,  and  with  the  torrent  roaring  50  feet  or  thereabouts  below,  at 
the  bottom  of  a  fissure.  This  cavern  is  lighted  by  candles,  and 
talking  in  it  can  only  be  managed  by  signs. 

I  visited  the  interior  of  the  gouffre  in  1869,  and  my  wonder  at 
its  caverns  was  increased  by  observing  the  hardness  of  the  horn- 
blende out  of  which  they  have  been  hollowed.  Carrel  chiselled  off 
i  large  piece,  which  is  now  lying  before  me.  It  has  a  highly 
polished,  glassy  surface,  and  might  be  mistaken,  for  a  moment,  for 

x 


154  SCHA  Ml: u:s  AMONGST  THE  AITS  chai>.  m. 

ice-polished  rock.  But  the  water  has  found  out  the  atoms  which 
were  least  hard,  and  it  is  dotted  all  over  by  minute  depressions, 
orach  as  the  face  of  one  is  who  has  Buffered  from  smallpox. 
The  edges  of  these  little  hollows  are  rounded,  and  the  whole  sur- 
faces of  the  depressions  are  polished  nearly,  or  quite,  as  highly  Bfl 
the  general  surface  of  the  fragment.1  The  water  lias  eaten  more 
deeply  into  some  veins  of  steatite  than  in  other  places,  and  the 
presence  of  the  steatite  may  possibly  have  had  something  to  do 
with  the  formation  of  the  goujfre. 

I  arrived  at  Breuil  again  after  an  absence  of  six  days,  well  satis- 
tied  with  my  tour  of  the  Matterhorn,  which  had  been  rendered 
very  pleasant  by  the  willingness  of  my  guides,  and  by  the  kindli- 
ness of  the  natives.  But  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Val  Tournanche  are  behind  the  times.  Their  paths  are  as 
lmd  as,  perhaps  worse  than,  they  were  in  the  time  of  De  Saussure, 
and  their  inns  are  much  inferior  to  those  on  the  Swiss  side.2  If 
it  were  otherwise  there  would  be  nothing  to  prevent  the  valley 
becoming  one  of  the  most  popular  and  frequented  of  all  the  \ alleys 
in  the  Alps.  As  it  is,  tourists  who  enter  it  seem  to  think  only 
about  how  soon  they  can  get  out  of  it,  and  hence  it  is  much  less 
known  than  it  deserves  to  be  on  account  of  its  natural  attractions. 

I  believe  that  the  great  hindrance  to  the  improvement  of  the 
paths  in  the  I talian  valleys  generally  is  the  wide-spread  impression 
that  the  innkeepers  would  alone  directly  benefit  by  any  ameliora- 
tion of  their  condition.  To  a  certain  extent  this  view  is  correct ; 
but  inasmuch  as  the  prosperity  of  the  natives  is  connected  with 
that  of  the  innkeepers,  the  interests  of  both  are  pretty  nearly 
identical.  Until  their  paths  are  rendered  less  rough  and  swampy, 
I  think  the  Italians  must  submit  to  see  the  golden  harvest  princi- 
pally reaped  in  Switzerland  and  Savoy.     At  the  same  time,  let  the 

1  Tlie  depressions  in  glaciated  rocks  (which  are  not  water-worn)  are  more  or  less 
angular.    Sec  p.  its. 

■  Tliis  still  niniiiiis  the  case.  In  1892  I  found  the  jwth  from  the  Tillage  <>f  Val 
Tournam  lif  to  Qiotnent  was  no  hotter  than  in  1863. 


i  hai-.  vi.  HINTS  TO  HOSTS.  155 

innkeepers  look  to  the  commissariat.  Their  supplies  are  not  un- 
frequently  deficient  in  quantity,  and,  according  to  my  experience, 
very  often  deplorable  in  quality. 

I  will  not  venture  to  criticise  in  detail  the  dishes  which  are 
brought  to  table,  since  I  am  profoundly  ignorant  of  their  constitu- 
tion. It  is  commonly  said  amongst  Alpine  tourists  that  goat  flesh 
represents  mutton,  and  mule  does  service  for  beef  and  chamois.  I 
reserve  my  own  opinion  upon  this  point  until  it  has  been  shewn 
what  becomes  of  all  the  dead  mules.  But  I  may  say,  I  hope,  with- 
out wounding  the  susceptibilities  of  my  acquaintances  among  the 
Italian  innkeepers,  that  it  would  tend  to  smoothen  their  inter- 
course with  their  guests  if  requests  for  solid  food  were  less 
frequently  regarded  as  criminal.  The  deprecating  airs  with  which 
inquiries  for  really  substantial  food  are  sometimes  received  remind 
me  of  a  Dauphine  innkeeper,  who  remarked  that  he  had  heard  a 
good  many  tourists  travel  in  Switzerland.  "Yes,"  I  answered, 
"  there  are  a  good  many."  "  How  many  ? "  "  Well,"  I  said,  "  I 
have  seen  a  hundred  or  more  sit  down  at  a  table  d'hote."  He 
lifted  up  his  hands — "Why,"  said  he,  "they  would  want  meat 
every  day ! "  "  Yes,  that  is  not  improbable."  "  In  that  case,"  he 
replied,  "  /  think  we  are  better  without  them." 


CHAPTER   VI  I. 

OUR   SIXTH    ATTEMPT   TO   ASCEND   TI1K   ilATTERHOlfN.1 

"  Hut  mighty  Jove  cuts  short,  with  just  disdain, 

The   long,  long  views  of  poor,  designing  man." 

Homkk. 

Carrel  had  carte  blanche  in  the  matter  of  guides,  and  his  choice  fell 
upon  his  relative  Ctesar,  Luc  Meynet,  and  two  others  whose  names 
I  do  not  know.  These  men  were  now  brought  together,  and  our 
preparations  were  completed,  as  the  weather  was  clearing  up. 

We  rested  on  Sunday,  August  9,  eagerly  watching  the  lessening 
off  the  mists  around  the  great  peak,  and  started  just  before  dawn 
upon  the  10th,  on  a  still  and  cloudless  morning;  which  seemed  to 
promise  a  happy  termination  to  our  enterprise. 

By  going  always,  though  gently,  we  arrived  upon  the  Col  du  Linn 
before  nine  o'clock.  Changes  were  apparent.  Familiar  ledges  had 
vanished ;  the  platform,  whereupon  my  tent  had  stood,  looked  very 
forlorn,  its  stones  had  been  scattered  by  wind  and  frost,  and  had 
halt  disappeared;  and  the  summit  of  the  Col  itself,  which  in  1862 
had  always  been  respectably  broad,  and  covered  by  snow,  WU 
n<»\v  sharper  than  the  ridge  of  any  church  roof,  and  was  hard  ice. 
Already  we  had  found  that  the  had  weather  of  the  past  week  had 
done  its  work.  The  rocks  for  several  hundred  feet  below  the  Col 
were  varnished  with  ice.  Loose,  incoherent  snow  covered  the 
older  and  harder  beds  below,  and  we  nearly  lost  our  leader  through 
its  treacherousne8s.  He  stepped  on  some  snow  which  seemed  firm, 
and  raised  his  axe  to  deliver  a  swinging  blow,  but,  just  as  it  was 

1  A  brief  account  of  this  excursion  was  published  in  the  Athmccum,  August  29,  1863. 


•  map.  vii.  TREACHEROUS  SNOW.  157 

highest,  the  crust  of  the  slope  upon  which  he  stood  broke  away. 
and  poured  down  in  serpentine  streams,  leaving  long,  bare  strips, 
which  glitteied  in  the  sun,  for  they  were  glassy  ice.  Carrel,  with 
admirable  readiness,  flung  himself  back  on  to  the  rock  oft'  which  he 
had  stepped,  and  was  at  once  secured.  He  simply  remarked,  "  It 
is  time  we  were  tied  up,"  and,  after  we  had  been  tied  up,  he  went 
to  work  again  as  if  nothing  had  happened.1 

We  had  abundant  illustrations  during  the  next  two  hours  of  the 
value  of  a  rope  to  climbers.  We  were  tied  up  rather  widely  apart, 
and  advanced,  generally,  in  pairs.  Carrel,  who  led,  was  followed 
closely  by  another  man,  who  lent  him  a  shoulder  or  placed  an  axe- 
head  under  his  feet,  when  there  was  need ;  and  when  this  couple 
were  well  placed  the  second  pair  advanced,  in  similar  fashion, — 
the  rope  being  drawn  in  by  those  above,  and  paid  out  gradually  by 
those  below.  The  leading  men  again  advanced,  or  the  third  pair, 
and  so  on.  This  manner  of  progression  was  slow,  but  sure.  One 
man  only  moved  at  a  time,  and  if  he  slipped  (and  we  frequently  did 
slip)  he  could  slide  scarcely  a  foot  without  being  checked  by  the 
others.  The  certainty  and  safety  of  the  method  gave  confidence  to 
the  one  who  was  moving,  and  not  only  nerved  him  to  put  out  his 
powers  to  the  utmost,  but  sustained  nerve  in  really  difficult  situa- 
tions. For  these  rocks  (which,  it  has  been  already  said,  were  easy 
enough  under  ordinary  circumstances)  were  now  difficult  in  a  high 
degree.  The  snow-water  which  had  trickled  down  for  many  days 
past  in  little  streams,  had  taken,  naturally,  the  very  route  by 
which  we  wished  to  ascend ;  and,  refrozen  in  the  night,  had  glazed 
the  slabs  over  which  we  had  to  pass, — sometimes  with  a  fine  film  of 
ice  as  thin  as  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  sometimes  so  thickly  that  we  could 

1  This  incident  occurred  close  to  the  place  represented  in  the  engraving  facing  p. 
108.  The  new,  dry  snow  was  very  troublesome,  and  poured  down  like  flour  into  the 
steps  which  were  cut  across  the  slopes.  The  front  man  accordingly  moved  ahead  as 
far  as  possible,  and  anchored  himself  to  rocks.  An  extra  rope  was  sent  across  to  him, 
was  fixed  at  each  end,  and  was  held  as  a  rail  by  the  others  as  they  crossed.  We  did 
not  trust  to  this  rojie  alone,  but  were  tied  in  the  usual  manner.  The  second  rope 
was  employed  as  an  additional  security  against  slips. 


L68  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  Tin:  ALPS.  chap.  to. 

almost  cut  luotstcjis  in  it.  Tin*  weather  was  superb,  the  men 
niatlt'  light  i»f  thf  toil*  and  shouted  to  rouse  the  echoes  from  the 
Dent  il'llt'iens. 

We  went  mi  g; tily,  passed  the  second  tent  plat  form,  the  <  Ihimney, 
ami  the  other  well-remembered  points,  and  reckoned,  confidently, 
on  sleeping  that  night  upon  the  top  of  'the  shoulder;'  but,  before 
we  had  well  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  Great  Tower,  a  sudden  rush 
of  cold  air  warned  us  to  look  out. 

It  was  difficult  to  say  where  this  air  came  from  It  did  not 
blow  as  a  wind,  hut  descended  rather  as  the  water  in  a  shower-kith  I 
All  was  tranquil  again  ;  the  atmosphere  shewed  no  signs  of  disturb- 
ance; there  was  a  dead  calm,  and  not  a  speck  of  cloud  to  be  seen 
anywhere.  But  we  did  not  remain  very  long  in  this  state.  The  cold 
air  came  again,  and  this  time  it  was  difficult  to  say  where  it  did  not 
come  from  We  jammed  down  our  hats  as  it  beat  against  the  rid 
and  screamed  amongst  the  crags.  Before  we  had  got  to  the  foot  of 
the  Tower,  mists  had  been  formed  above  and  below.  They  appeared 
at  first  in  small,  isolated  patches  (in  several  places  at  the  same  time), 
which  danced  and  jerked  and  were  torn  into  shreds  by  the  wind. 
hut  grew  larger  under  the  process.  They  were  united  together,  and 
rent  again, — shewing  us  the  blue  sky  for  a  moment,  and  blotting  it 
out  the  next;  and  augmented  incessantly,  until  the  whole  heavens 
were  filled  with  whirling,  boiling  clouds.  Before  we  could  take  bflf 
our  packs,  and  get  under  any  kind  of  shelter,  a  hurricane  of  simw 
hurst  upon  us  from  the  east.  It  fell  very  heavily,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  ridge  was  covered  by  it.  "What  shall  we  do?"  I 
shouted  to  Carrel.  "Monsieur,"  said  he,  "the  wind  is  had:  the 
weather  has  changed;  we  are  heavily  laden.  Here  is  a  fine  // 
let  us  stop!  If  we  go  on  we  shall  be  half-frozen.  That  is  my 
opinion."  No  one  differed  from  him;  so  we  fell  t<>  work  to  make 
a  place  for  the  tent,  and  in  a  couple  of  hours  completed  the  plat- 
form which  we  had  commenced  in  L862.  The  clouds  hud  black- 
ened during  that  time,  and  we  had  hardly  finished  our  task  before 
a  thunderstorm  broke  upon  us  with  appalling  fury.     Forked  light- 


chap.  vii.  EXTREMES  MEET.  159 

11  in-  shot  out  at  the  turrets  above,  and  at  the  crags  below.  Ttwas 
so  close  that  we  quailed  at  its  darts.  It  seemed  to  scorch  us, — we 
were  in  the  very  focus  of  the  storm.  The  thunder  was  simultane- 
ous with  the  flashes ;  short  and  sharp,  and  more  like  the  noise  of 
a  door  that  is  violently  slammed,  multiplied  a  thousand-fold,  than 
any  noise  to  which  I  can  compare  it. 

When  I  say  that  the  thunder  was  simultaneous  with  the  light- 
ning, I  speak  as  an  inexact  person.  My  meaning  is  that  the 
tiiur  which  elapsed  between  seeing  the  flash  and  hearing  the 
report  was  inappreciable  to  me.  I  wish  to  speak  with  all  possible 
precision,  and  there  are  two  points  in  regard  to  this  storm  upon 
which  I  can  speak  with  some  accuracy.  The  first  is  in  regard  to 
the  distance  of  the  lightning  from  our  party.  We  might  have  been 
1100  feet  from  it  if  a  second  of  time  had  elapsed  between  seeing 
the  flashes  and  hearing  the  reports;  and  a  second  of  time  is  not 
appreciated  by  inexact  persons.  It  was  certain  that  we  were 
sometimes  less  than  that  distance  from  the  lightning,  because  I 
saw  it  pass  in  front  of  well-known  points  on  the  ridge,  both  above 
and  below  us,  which  were  less  (sometimes  considerably  less)  than 
a  thousand  feet  distant. 

Secondly,  in  regard  to  the  difficulty  of  distinguishing  sounds 
which  are  merely  echoes  from  true  thunder,  or  the  noise  which 
occurs  simultaneously  with  lightning.  Arago  entered  into  this 
subject  at  some  length  in  his  Meteorological  Essays,  and  seemed  to 
doubt  if  it  would  ever  be  possible  to  determine  whether  echoes  are 
always  the  cause  of  the  rolling  sounds  commonly  called  thunder.1 
I  shall  not  attempt  to  shew  whether  the  rolling  sounds  should 
ever,  or  never,  be  regarded  as  true  thunder,  but  only  that  during 
this  storm  upon  the  Matterhorn  it  was  possible  to  distinguish  the 
sound  of  the  thunder  itself  from  the  sounds  (rolling  and  otherwise 
which  were  merely  the  echoes  of  the  first,  original  sound. 

1  "There  is,  therefore,  little  hope  of  thus  arriving  at  anything  decisive  as  to  t In- 
exact part  which  echoes  take  in  the  production  of  the  rolling  sound  of  thunder." 
P.  165,  English  ed.,  translated  by  Col.  Sabine:   Longmans,  1855. 


160  SCIi AM li/.ES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  mi. 

At  the  place  where  we  were  camped  a  remarkable  echo  could 

be  heard  (one  so  remarkable  that  if  it  could  be  heard  in  this 
country  it  would  draw  crowds  for  its  own  sake);  I  believe  it  came 
from  the  cliffs  of  the  Dent  d'Herens.  It  was  a  favourite  amuse- 
ment with  us  to  shout  to  rouse  this  echo,  which  repeated  any 
sharp  cry,  in  a  very  distinct  manner,  several  times,  after  the  lapse 
of  something  like  a  dozen  seconds.  The  thunderstorm  lasted  nearly 
two  hours,  and  raged  at  times  with  great  fury ;  and  the  prolonged 
rollings  from  the  surrounding  mountains,  after  one  flash,  had  not 
usually  ceased  before  another  set  of  echoes  took  up  the  discourse, 
and  maintained  the  reverberations  without  a  break.  Occasionally 
there  was  a  pause,  interrupted  presently  by  a  single  clap,  the 
accompaniment  of  a  single  discharge,  and  after  such  times  I  could 
recognise  the  echoes  from  the  Dent  d'Herens  by  their  peculiar 
repetitions,  and  by  the  length  of  time  which  had  passed  since  the 
reports  had  occurred  of  which  they  were  the  echoes. 

If  I  had  been  unaware  of  the  existence  of  this  echo,  I  should 
have  supposed  that  the  resounds  were  original  reports  of  explosions 
which  had  been  unnoticed,  since  in  intensity  they  were  scarcely 
distinguishable  from  the  true  thunder;  which,  dining  this  storm. 
seemed  to  me,  upon  every  occasion,  to  consist  of  a  single,  harsh, 
instantaneous  sound.1 

Or  if,  instead  of  being  placed  at  a  distance  of  less  than  a 
thousand  feet  from  the  points  of  explosion  (and  consequently  hear- 
ing  the  report  almost  in  the  same  moment  as  we  saw  the  flash,  and 

1  The  same  has  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  case  at  all  times  when  I  have  been  close 
to  the  points  of  explosion.  There  has  been  always  a  distinct -interval  between  tlio 
first  explosion  and  the  rolling  sounds  and  secondary  explosions  which  I  bave  believed 
to  be  merely  echoes  ;  but  it  has  never  been  possible  (except  in  the  above-mentioned 
case)  to  identify  them  as  such. 

Others  have  observed  the  same.  "The  geologist,  Professor  Theobald,  of  Char, 
who  was  in  the  Solferino  storm,  between  the  Tschiertscher  and  Urden  Alp.  in  t di- 
electric clouds,  says  that  the  j>eals  were  short,  like  cannon  shots,  but  of  a  clearer, 
more  cracking  tone,  and  that  the  rolling  of  the  thunder  was  only  heard  farther  on." 
Berlepsch's  Alps,  English  ed.,  p.  L8S. 


thai',  vir.  ON  THE  ECHOES  OF  THUNDER.  161 

the  rollings  after  a  considerable  interval  of  time),  we  had  been 
placed  so  that  the  original  report  had  fallen  on  our  ears  nearly  at 
the  same  moment  as  the  echoes,  we  should  probably  have  con- 
sidered that  the  successive  reports  and  rollings  of  the  echoes  were 
reports  of  successive  explosions  occurring  nearly  at  the  same 
moment,  and  that  they  were  not  echoes  at  all. 

This  is  the  only  time  (out  of  many  storms  witnessed  in  the 
Alps)  I  have  obtained  evidence  that  the  rollings  of  thunder  are 
actually  echoes ;  and  that  they  are  not,  necessarily,  the  reports  of 
a  number  of  discharges  over  a  long  line,  occurring  at  varying 
distances  from  the  spectator,  and  consequently  unable  to  arrive  at 
his  ear  at  the  same  moment,  although  they  follow  each  other  so 
swiftly  as  to  produce  a  sound  more  or  less  continuous.1 

The  wind  during  all  this  time  seemed  to  blow  tolerably  con- 
sistently from  the  east.  It  smote  the  tent  so  vehemently  (notwith- 
standing it  was  partly  protected  by  rocks)  that  we  had  grave  fears 
our  refuge  might  be  blown  away  bodily,  with  ourselves  inside ;  so, 
during  some  of  the  lulls,  we  issued  out  and  built  a  wall  to  wind- 
ward. At  half-past  three  the  wind  changed  to  the  north-west, 
and  the  clouds  vanished.  We  immediately  took  the  opportunity 
to  send  down  one  of  the  porters  (under  protection  of  some  of  the 
others,  a  little  beyond  the  Col  du  Lion),  as  the  tent  could  not  accom- 
modate more  than  five  persons.  From  this  time  to  sunset  the  weather 
was  variable.  It  was  sometimes  blowing  and  snowing  hard,  and 
sometimes  a  dead  calm.  The  bad  weather  was  evidently  confined 
to  the  Mont  Cervin,  for  when  the  clouds  lifted  we  could  see  every - 

1  Mr.  J.  Glaisher  has  frequently  pointed  out  that  all  sounds  in  balloons  at  some 
distance  from  the  earth  are  notable  for  their  brevity.  "  It  is  one  sound  only  ;  there 
is  no  reverberation,  no  reflection  ;  and  this  is  characteristic  of  all  sounds  in  the  balloon, 
one  clear  sound,  continuing  during  its  own  vibrations,  then  gone  in  a  moment." — 
Good  Words,  1863,  p.  224. 

I  learn  from  Mr.  Glaisher  that  the  thunder-claps  which  have  been  heard  by  him 
during  his  "travels  in  the  air"  have  been  no  exception  to  the  general  rule,  and  the 
absence  of  rolling  has  fortified  his  belief  that  the  rolling  sounds  which  accompany 
thunder  are  echoes,  and  echoes  only. 

Y 


162  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  vn. 

thing  that  could  be  seen  from  our  -itc.     Monte  Viso,  b  hundred 
milt's  off,  was  clear, and  the  sun  set  gorgeously  behind  the  ran] 
Mont  Blanc.    We  passed  the  night  comfortably-  even  luxuriously 
— in  our  blanket-bags,  but  there  was  little  chance  of  sleeping, 

between  the  noise  of  the  wind,  of  the  thunder,  and  of  the  fallinc 
rocks.     I  forgave  the  thunder  for  the  sake  of  the  lightning 
more  splendid  spectacle  than  its  illumination  of  the  Matterhorn 
crags  I  do  not  expect  to  sec.1 

Tin-  greatest  rock-falls  always  Beemed  to  occur  in  the  night, 
between  midnight  and  daybreak.  This  was  noticeable  on  each  of 
the  seven  nights  which  I  passed  upon  the  south-west  ridge,  at 
heights  varying  from  11,800  to  13,000  feet. 

I  may  be  wrong  in  supposing  that  the  falls  in  the  night  are 
greater  than  those  in  the  daytime,  since  sound  is  much  more 
startling  during  darkness  than  when  the  cause  of  its  production  is 
sren.  Even  a  sigh  may  be  terrible  in  the  stillness  of  the  night. 
In  the  daytime  one's  attention  is  probably  divided  between  the 
sound  and  the  motion  of  rocks  which  fall:  or  it  may  lie  con- 
centrated on  other  matters.     But  it  is  certain  that  the  Greatest 

Of  the  falls  which  happened  during  the  night  took  place  after 
midnight,  and  this  1  connect  with  the  fact  that  the  maximum  of 
cold  during  any  twenty-four  hours  very  commonly  occurs  between 
midnight  and  dawn. 

We  tinned  out  ;it  3.30  A.M.  on  the  1  1th,  and  were  dismayed  to 
find  that  it  still  continued  to  snow.  At  9  a.m.  it  ceased  to  fall, 
and  the  sun  shewed  itself  feebly,  so  we  packed  Up  our  bag 
ami  set  out  to  try  to  get  upon  'the  shoulder.'  We  Struggled  up- 
wards until  eleven  o'clock,  and  then  it  commenced  to  snow  again. 
We  held  a  council:  the  opinions  expressed  at  it  were  unanimous 
against  advancing,  and  I  decided  to  retreat,     for  we  had  risen  less 

than  300  feet  in  the   past  two  hours,  and  had   not   even   arrived   at 

the  rope  which  TyndalTs  party  Left  behind,  attached  to  the  rocks. 

Appendix  B  f<n- the  experiences  of  .Mr.  K.  B,  Heathoote  daring  a  thunder- 
storm  on  the  ICatterhora  in  \H69. 


TBI  "GREAT  TOWER." 


•CRETE  DC  COQ." 


THE  CRACS  OF  THE  MATTERHORN,  OURINC  THE  STORM    MIDNICHT,  AUC. 


chap.  vii.  "  THAT  SMALL  CLOUD."  163 

in  1862.  At  the  same  rate  of  progression  it  would  have  taken  us 
from  four  to  five  hours  to  get  upon  '  the  shoulder.'  Not  one  of  us 
cared  to  attempt  to  do  so  under  the  existing  circumstances;  for 
besides  having  to  move  our  own  weight,  which  was  sufficiently 
troublesome  at  this  part  of  the  ridge,  we  had  to  transport  much 
heavy  baggage,  tent,  blankets,  and  provisions,  ladder,  and  450  feet 
of  rope,  besides  many  other  smaller  matters.  These,  however, 
were  not  the  most  serious  considerations.  Supposing  that  we  got 
upon  '  the  shoulder,'  we  might  find  ourselves  detained  there  several 
days,  unable  either  to  go  up  or  down.1  I  could  not  risk  any  such 
detention,  being  under  obligations  to  appear  in  London  at  the  end 
of  the  week. 

We  returned  to  Breuil  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon.  It  was 
quite  fine  there,  and  the  tenants  of  the  inn  received  our  statements 
with  evident  scepticism.  They  were 
astonished  to  learn  that  we  had  been 
exposed  to  a  snow-storm  of  twenty- 
six  hours'  duration.  "Why,"  said 
Favre,  the  innkeeper,  "  we  have  had 
no  snow;  it  has  been  fine  all  the 
time  you  have  been  absent,  and 
there  has  been  only  that  small 
cloud  upon  the  mountain."  Ah ! 
that  small  cloud !  None  except 
those  who  have  had  experience  of  monsieur  favre. 

it  can  tell  what  a  formidable  obstacle  it  is. 

Why  is  it  that  the  Matterhorn  is  subject  to  these  abominable 
variations  of  weather  ?  The  ready  answer  is,  "  Oh,  the  mountain 
is  so  isolated ;  it  attracts  the  clouds."  This  is  not  a  sufficient 
answer.  Although  the  mountain  is  isolated,  it  is  not  so  much  more 
isolated  than  the  neighbouring  peaks  that  it  should  gather  clouds 
when  none  of  the  others  do  so.     It  will  not  at  all  account  for  the 

1  Since  then   several   (teraons   have   found  themselves  in  this   predicament  for 
five  or  six  consecutive  days  ! 


164  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  Till:  MI'S.  OSAP.vn. 

cloud  to  which  I  refer,  which  is  not  foroted  by  an  aggregation  of 

smaller,  stray  clouds  drawn  together  from  a  distance  (as  scum 
collects  round  a  log  in  the  water),  but  is  created  against  the 
mountain  itself,  and  springs  into  existence  where  no  clouds  were 
seen  before.  It  is  formed  and  hangs  chiefly  against  the  southern 
sides,  and  particularly  against  the  south-eastern  side.  It  fn  quently 
does  not  envelop  the  summit,  and  rarely  extends  down  to  the 
Glacier  du  Lion,  and  to  the  Glacier  du  Mont  Cervin  below.  It 
forms  in  the  finest  weather;  on  cloudless  and  windless  dfl 

I  conceive  that  we  should  look  to  differences  of  temperature 
rather  than  to  the  height  or  isolation  of  the  mountain  for  an 
explanation.  I  am  inclined  to  attribute  the  disturbances  which 
occur  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  southern  sides  of  the  Matterhorn 
on  fine  days,1  principally  to  the  fact  that  the  mountain  is  a  rock 
mountain.  It  absorbs  a  great  amount  of  heat,2  and  is  not  only 
warmer  itself,  but  is  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  of  a  higher 
temperature  than  such  peaks  as  the  Weisshorn  and  the  Lyskamm, 
which  are  eminently  mow  mountains. 

In  certain  states  of  the  atmosphere  its  temperature  may  be 
tolerably  uniform  over  wide  areas  and  to  great  elevations.  I  have 
known  the  thermometer  to  shew  70°  in  the  shade  at  the  top  of  an 
Alpine  peak  13,000  feet  high,  and  but  a  very  few  degrees  more  at 
stations  6000  or  7000  feet  lower.  At  other  times,  there  will  be 
a  difference  of  forty  or  fifty  degrees  (Fahr.)  between  two  stations, 
the  higher  not  more  than  6000  or  7000  feet  above  the  lower. 

Provided  that  the  temperature  was  uniform,  or  nearly  so,  on  all 
sides  of  the  Matterhorn,  and  to  a  considerable  distance  above  its 
summit,  no  clouds  would  be  likely  to  form  upon  it.  lint  if  the 
atmosphere  immediately  surrounding  it  is  warmer  than  the  con- 
tiguous strata,  a  local  'courant  ascendant'  must  necessarily  be 
generated;  and  portions  of  the  cooler  superincumbent  (or  circum- 

1  I  am  Hjieaking  exclusively  of  the  distuikiiins  which  OOCUT  in  the   daytime 
during  tine  weather. 

2  The  rocks  are  sometimes  so  hot  that  they  arc  almost  jNiinful  t<>  touch. 


chap.  vii.  If]  STERIO  US  MISTS.  165 

jacent)  air  will  naturally  be  attracted  towards  the  mountain,  where 

they  will  speedily  condense  the  moisture  of  the  warm  air  in  contact 
with  its  I  cannot  explain  the  downrushes  of  cold  air  which  occur 
on  it,  when  all  the  rest  of  the  neighbourhood  appears  to  be  tran- 
quil, in  any  other  way.  The  clouds  are  produced  by  the  contact  of 
two  strata  of  air  (of  widely  different  temperatures)  charged  with 
invisible  moisture,  as  surely  as  certain  colourless  fluids  produce  a 
white,  turbid  liquid,  when  mixed  together.  The  order  has  been — 
wind  of  a  low  temperature — mist — rain — snow  or  hail.1 

This  opinion  is  borne  out  to  some  extent  by  the  behaviour 
of  the  neighbouring  mountains.  The  Doni  (14,935  feet)  and  the 
Dent  Blanche  (14,318)  have  both  of  them  large  cliffs  of  bare  rock 
upon  their  southern  sides,  and  against  those  cliffs  clouds  commonly 
form  (during  fine,  still  weather)  at  the  same  time  as  the  cloud  on 
the  Matterhorn ;  whilst  the  Weisshorn  (14,804)  and  the  Lyskamm 
(14,889),  (mountains  of  about  the  same  altitude,  and  which  are 
in  corresponding  situations  to  the  former  pair)  usually  remain 
perfectly  clear. 

I  arrived  at  Chatillon  at  midnight  on  the  11th,  defeated  and 
disconsolate ;  but,  like  a  gambler  who  loses  each  throw,  only  the 
more  eager  to  have  another  try,  to  see  if  the  luck  would  change ; 
and  returned  to  London  ready  to  devise  fresh  combinations,  and  to 
form  new  plans. 

1  The  mists  are  extremely  deceptive  to  those  who  are  on  the  mountain  itself. 
Sometimes  they  seem,  to  be  created  at  a  considerable  distance,  as  if  the  whole  of  the 
atmosphere  of  the  neighbourhood  was  undergoing  a  change,  when  in  reality  they  are 
being  formed  in  immediate  proximity  to  the  mountain. 


CROSSING    THE  CHANNEL. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

IBOM  ST.  MICHEL  OS  THE  MONT  CSNIS  BOAD,  BY  THE  QOI  MB 
AIGUILLES  D'AByE,  COL  DK  ICABTIGNABE,  AND  THE  BKECHE  DE 
LA   MEIJE,  TO  LA   BEBABDE.1 

"The  more  to  help  the  greater  deed  is  done." 

Homi.i:. 

WHEN  we  arrived  upon  the  highest  summit  of  Mont  Pelvoux,  in 
Dauphine,  in  1861,  we  saw,  to  our  surprise  and  disappointment, 
that  it  was  not  the  culminating  point  of  the  district;  and  that 
another  mountain — distant  about  a  couple  of  miles,  and  separated 
from  us  by  an  impassable  gulf — claimed  that  distinction.  I  was 
troubled  in  spirit  about  this  mountain,  and  my  thoughts  often 
reverted  to  the  great  wall-sided  peak,  second  in  apparent  inaccessi- 
bility only  to  the  Matterhoi  n. 

The  year  1862  passed  away  without  a  chance  of  getting  to  it, 
and  my  holiday  was  too  brief  in  1863  even  to  think  about  it ;  but  in 
the  following  year  it  was  possible,  and  I  resolved  to  set  my  mind  at 
rest  by  completing  the  task  which  had  been  left  unfinished  in  1861. 

In  the  meantime  others  had  turned  their  attention  to  Dauphini'. 
First  of  all  (in  1862)  (Mime  Mr.  F.  Tuckett — that  mighty  mount* 
aineer,  whose  name  is  known  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  Alps — with  the  guides  Michel  Croz,  Peter  Perm,  and  Bartolom- 
meo  Peyrotte,  and  great  success  attended  his  arms.  But  Mr.  Tuckett 
halted  before  the  Pointe  des  Ecrins,  and,  dismayed  by  its  appearance, 
withdrew  his  forces  to  gather  less  dangerous  laurels  elsewhere. 

His  expedition,  however,  threw  some  light  upon  the  Ecrins. 

1  For  routes  dc8cril>ed  in  tins  chapter,  BM  tin-  General  Map  and  the  plan  in  tin- 
text  at  p.  170. 


CHAP.  VIII. 


ui< 'in: i.  cuoz. 


167 


He  pointed  out  the  direction  from  which  an  attack  was  most  likely 
to  be  -successful,  and  Mr.  William  Mathews  and  the  Rev.  T.  G. 
Bonney  (to  whom  he  communicated  the  result  of  his  labours) 
attempted  to  execute  the  ascent,  with  the  brothers  Michel  and  J. 
B.  Croz,  by  following  his  indications.  But  they  too  were  defeated, 
as  I  shall  relate  more  particularly  presently. 


MICHEL- AUGUSTE  CROZ  (1865). 


The  guide  Michel  Croz  had  thus  been  engaged  in  both  of 
these  expeditions  in  Dauphine,  and  I  naturally  looked  to  him  for 
assistance.  Mr.  Mathews  (to  win  mi  I  applied  for  information)  gave 
him  a  high  character,  and  concluded  his  reply  to  me  by  Baying 
that  Croz  "was  only  happy  when  upwards  of  10,000  feet  high." 

I  know  what  my  friend  meant.  Croz  was  happiest  when  he 
was  employing  his  powers  to  the  utmost.  Places  where  you  and  I 
would  "  toil  and  sweat,  and  yet  be  freezing  cold,"  were  bagatelles  to 


H;*  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  <  hap.  Wtt 

him,  and  it  was  only  when  he  got  above  the  range  of  ordinary 
mortals,  and  was  required  to  employ  bia  magnificent  strength, 

and  to  draw  upon  his  unsurpassed  knowledge  of  ice  and  snow, 
that  he  could  be  said  to  be  really  and  truly  happy. 

Of  all  the  guides  with  whom  I  travelled,  Michel  Croz  was  the 
man  who  was  most  after  my  own  heart.  He  did  not  work  like 
a  blunt  razor,  and  take  to  his  toil  unkindly.  He  did  not  need 
urging,  or  to  be  told  a  second  time  to  do  anything.  You  had  only  to 
say  vihat  was  to  be  done,  and  how  it  was  to  be  done,  and  the  work 
teas  done,  if  it  was  possible.  Such  men  are  not  common,  and  when 
they  are  known  they  are  valued.  Michel  was  not  widely  known, 
but  those  who  did  know  him  came  again  and  again.  The  inscrip- 
tion that  is  placed  upon  his  tomb  trutlifully  records  that  he  was 
"beloved  by  his  comrades  and  esteemed  by  travellers." 

At  the  time  that  I  was  planning  my  journey,  my  friends 
Messrs.  A.  W.  Moore  and  Horace  Walker  were  also  drawing  up 
their  programme;  and,  as  we  found  that  our  wishes  were  very 
similar,  we  agreed  to  unite  our  respective  parties.  The  excursions 
which  are  described  in  this  and  the  two  following  chapters  are 
mutual  ideas  which  were  jointly  executed. 

Our  united  programme  was  framed  so  as  to  avoid  sleeping  in 
inns,  and  so  that  we  should  see  from  the  highest  point  attained  on 
one  day,  a  considerable  portion  of  the  route  which  was  intended  to 
be  followed  on  the  next.  This  latter  matter  was  an  important 
one  to  us,  as  all  of  our  projected  excursions  were  new  ones,  and  led 
overground  about  which  there  was  very  little  information  in  print. 

My  friends  had  happily  secured  Christian  Aimer  of  ( Irindelwald 
M  their  guide.  The  combination  of  Croz  and  Aimer  was  a  perfect 
one.  Both  men  were  in  the  prime  of  life  ; l  both  were  endued  with 
strength  and  activity  far  beyond  the  average  ;  and  the  courage  and 
the  knowledge  of  each  was  alike  undoubted.  The  temper  of  Aimer 
it  was  impossible  to  ruffle;  he  was  ever  obliging  and  enduring, — 

1  Croz  was  born  at  the  village  of  Le  Tour,  in  the  valley  of  Chainounix,  on  April 
22,  1830  ;  Aimer  was  a  year  or  two  ohler. 


CUM',  viii.  THE  AIGUILLES  &ARVB.  169 

a  bold  but  a  sale  man.  That  which  be  lacked  In  fire — in  dash — 
was  supplied  by  Croz,  who,  in  his  turn,  was  kept  in  place  by  Aimer. 
It  is  pleasant  to  remember  how  they  worked  together,  and  how 
each  one  confided  to  you  that  he  liked  the  other  so  much  because 
he  worked  so  well ;  but  it  is  sad,  very  sad,  to  those  who  have  known 
the  men,  to  know  that  they  can  never  work  together  again. 

We  met  at  St.  Michel  on  the  Mont  Cenis  road,  at  mid-day  on 
June  20,  1864,  and  proceeded  in  the  afternoen  over  the  Col  de 
Valloires  to  the  village  of  the  same  name.  The  summit  of  this 
pretty  little  pass  is  about  3500  feet  above  St.  Michel,  and  from  it 
we  had  a  fair  view  of  the  Aiguilles  d'Arve,  a  group  of  three  peaks 
of  singular  form,  which  it  was  our  especial  object  to  investigate.1 
They  had  been  seen  by  ourselves  and  others  from  numerous  distant 
points,  and  always  looked  very  high  and  very  inaccessible ;  and 
we  had  been  unable  to  obtain  any  information  about  them,  except 
the  few  words  in  Joanne's  Itintraire  du  Dauphint.  Having  made 
out  from  the  summit  of  the  Col  de  Valloires  that  they  could  be 
approached  from  the  Valley  of  Valloires,  we  hastened  down  to  find 
a  place  where  we  could  pass  the  night,  as  near  as  possible  to  the 
entrance  of  the  little  valley  leading  up  to  them. 

By  nightfall  we  arrived  at  the  entrance  to  this  little  valley  (Vallon 
des  Aiguilles  d'Arve),  and  found  some  buildings  placed  just  where 
they  were  wanted.  The  proprietress  received  us  with  civility,  and 
placed  a  large  barn  at  our  disposal,  on  the  conditions  that  no  lights 
were  struck  or  pipes  smoked  therein ;  and  when  her  terms  were 
agreed  to,  she  took  us  into  her  own  chalet,  made  up  a  huge  fire, 
heated  a  gallon  of  milk,  and  treated  us  with  genuine  hospitality. 

In  the  morning  we  found  that  the  Vallon  des  Aiguilles  d'Arve 
led  away  nearly  due  west  from  the  Valley  of  Valloires,  and  that 
the  village  of  Bonnenuit  was  placed  (in  the  latter  valley)  almost 
exactly  opposite  to  the  junction  of  the  two. 

1  The  Pointe  des  Kevins  is  also  seen  from  the  top  of  the  Col  de  Valloires,  rising 
alwve  the  Col  du  Galibier.  This  is  the  lowest  elevation  from  wlii.li  I  have  nan  the 
actual  summit  of  the  Ecrins. 

Z 


170  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  cbat.yul 

At  3,55  a.m.  on  the  21st  we  set  out  up  the  Vallon,  passed  for  a 

time  «»\ t-r  pasture-land,  ami  then  0V6T  a  .-t<»n\    waste,  deeply  «  li:«n- 

neUed  by  watercourses.     At  5.30  the  two  principal  Aiguilles  were 

well  seen,  ami  as,  by  this  time,  it  was  evident  that  the  authors  of 

TO    VALLOIRES 


s^0    meu  ••■*•*;- 


w4  4 


/'     O  A. 


/  the  Sardinian  official  map  had  romanced  as 

extensively  in  this  neighbourhood  as  else- 
to  la  grave  where,  it  was  necessary  to  hold  a  council 

Three  questions  were  submitted  to  it: — Firstly.  Which  is  the 
highest  of  these  Aiguilles  ?  Secondly,  Which  shall  we  go  up  ? 
Thirdly,  How  is  it  to  be  done  ? 

The,  French  engineers,  it  was  said,  had  determined  that  the  two 
highest  nt'  them  were  respectively  11,513  and  11,529  feet  in  heighl : 
but  we  were  without  information  as  to  which  two  they  had  mea- 
sured.1 Joanne  indeed  said  (but  without  specifying  whether  he 
meant  all  three),  that  the  Aiguilles  had  been  several  times 
ascended, and  particularly  mentioned  that  the  one  of  11,513  feet 
was  "relatively  easy." 

We  therefore  said,  "  We  will  go  up  the  peak  of  11,52!)  feet" 
But  that  determination  did  not  settle  the  second  question.  Joanne  s 
"relatively  easy  peak,  according  to  his  description,  was  evidently 
the  most  northern  of  the  three.    Our  peak  then  was  to  he  one  of 

1  It  should  be  observed  tbat  these  mountains  wen  Included  in  the  territory 
recently  ceded   to   France.     The   Sardinian   map  above   referred    to   was   the  old 

•  >lli<  i;il  map.     The  French  survey  alluded  to  afterwards  is  tin  mu\<y  in  continuation 
of  the  great  Fivii'  li  ollii  ial  map.     The  sheet  including  the  Aiguille-  d'Arre  was  not 

then   published. 


chap.  viii.  COL  DES  AIGUILLES  UARVE.  171 

the  other  two ; — but  which  of  them  ?  We  were  inclined  to  favour 
the  central  one,  though  we  had  doubts,  for  they  looked  very  equal 
in  height  When,  however,  the  council  came  to  study  the  third 
question — "  How  is  it  to  be  done  ? "  it  was  unanimously  voted  that 
upon  the  eastern  and  southern  sides  it  was  certainly  relatively  diffi- 
cult, and  that  a  move  should  be  made  round  to  the  northern  side. 

The  movement  was  duly  executed,  and  after  wading  up  some 
snow-slopes  of  considerable  steepness  (going  occasionally  beyond 
40c),  we  found  ourselves  in  a  gap  or  nick,  between  the  central  and 
northernmost  Aiguille,  at  8.45  a.m.  We  then  studied  the  northern 
face  of  our  intended  peak,  and  finally  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 
it  was  relatively  impracticable.  Croz  shrugged  his  big  shoulders, 
and  said,  "  My  faith !  I  think  you  will  do  well  to  leave  it  to  others." 
Aimer  was  more  explicit,  and  volunteered  the  information  that  a 
thousand  francs  would  not  tempt  him  to  try  it.  We  then  turned 
to  the  northernmost  peak,  and  found  its  southern  faces  even  more 
hopeless  than  t).e  northern  faces  of  the  central  one.  We  enjoyed 
accordingly  the  unwonted  luxury  of  a  three  hours'  rest  on  the  top 
of  our  pass ;  for  pass  we  were  determined  it  should  be. 

We  might,  have  done  worse.  We  were  10,300  or  10,400  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  commanded  a  most  picturesque  view 
of  the  mountains  of  the  Tarentaise ;  while,  somewhat  east  of  south, 
we  saw  the  monarch  of  the  Dauphine  massif,  whose  closer  acquaint- 
ance it  was  our  intention  to  make.  Three  sunny  hours  passed  away, 
and  then  we  turned  to  the  descent.  We  saw  the  distant  pastures  of 
a  valley  (which  we  supposed  was  the  Vallon  or  Ravine  de  la  Sausse), 
and  a  long  snow-slope  leading  down  to  them.  But  from  that 
slope  we  were  cut  off  by  precipitous  rocks,  and  our  first  im- 
pression was  that  we  should  have  to  return  in  our  track.  Some 
running  about,  however,  discovered  two  little  gullies,  tilled  with 
threads  of  snow,  and  down  the  most  northern  of  these  we  decided 
to  go.  It  was  a  steep  way  but  a  safe  one,  for  the  cleft  was  so 
narrow  that  we  could  press  the  shoulders  against  one  side  whilst 
the  feet  were  against  the  other,  and  the  last  remnant  of  the  winter's 


172 


>■<•//. I. V/.7./-.S  AMONGST  Till-:  ALPS. 


CHAP.  \  III. 


the 
half- 
top      of 
Walker 

sade;"  the  guides 
steep."  Our  friend, 
at  a  standing  glissade, 
time  very  skilfully  ;   - 
lust  his  halanee.and 


snow,  well  hardened, 

cltmg  t«i  the  rift  with 

greal  tenacity,  and 
gave  us  a  path  when 
lucks  refused  one  In 
an-hour  we  got  to  the 
the  great  snow-slope. 
said — "Let  us  glig- 
— "No,  it  is  too 
however,  started  off 
and   advanced    for  a 

hut    alter    a    while    lie 

progressed  duw  n  war.  I  > 


and  hack  wards  with  .in- ak. i  ii  Iks  i.akvk.  kkom  AiiovK  great    rapidity,    in    a 

..  ,       ,  1  Ml      l   II  \I  II  ,  ... 

way  that  seemed  to  ns    very    much    like 

tumbling  head  over  heels.  He  let  go  his  axe,  and  left  it  behind, 
but  it  overtook  him  and  batted  him  heartily.  He  and  it  travelled 
in  this  fashion  for  smut-  hundreds  of  feet,  and  at  last  subsided  into 


chap.  viii.  WALKER  LEADS  THE   WAY.  173 

the  rocks  at  the  bottom.  In  a  few  moments  we  were  reassured 
as  to  his  safety,  by  hearing  him  ironically  request  us  not  to  keep 
him  waiting  down  there. 

We  others  followed  the  track  shewn  by  the  dotted  line  upon  the 
engraving  (making  zigzags  to  avoid  the  little  groups  of  rocks 
jutting  through  the  snow,  by  which  Walker  had  been  upset),  de- 
scended by  a  sitting  glissade,  and  rejoined  our  friend  at  the  bottom. 
We  then  turned  sharply  to  the  left,  and  tramped  down  the  summit 
ridge  of  an  old  moraine  of  great  size.  Its  mud  was  excessively 
hard,  and  where  some  large  erratic  blocks  lay  perched  upon  its 
crest,  we  were  obliged  to  cut  steps  (in  the  mud)  with  our  ice-axes. 

Guided  by  the  sound  of  a  distant '  moo/  we  speedily  found  the 
highest  chalets  in  the  valley,  named  Rieu  Blanc.  They  were 
tenanted  by  three  old  women  (who  seemed  to  belong  to  one  of  the 
missing  links  sought  by  naturalists),  destitute  of  all  ideas  except  in 
regard  to  cows,  and  who  spoke  a  barbarous  patois,  well-nigh  unin- 
telligible to  the  Savoyard  Croz.  They  would  not  believe  that  we 
had  passed  between  the  Aiguilles, — <cIt  is  impossible,  the  cmcs 
never  go  there."  "  Could  we  get  to  La  Grave  over  yonder  ridge  ? " 
"  Oh  yes !  the  cows  often  crossed ! "  Could  they  shew  us  the  way  ? 
No ;  but  we  could  follow  the  c#2/>tracks. 

We  stayed  a  while  near  these  chalets,  to  examine  the  western 
sides  of  the  Aiguilles  d'Arve,  and,  according  to  our  united  opinion, 
the  central  one  appeared  as  inaccessible  from  this  direction  as 
from  the  east,  north,  or  south.  On  the  following  day  we  saw 
them  again,  when  at  a  height  of  about  11,000  feet,  from  a  south- 
westerly direction,  and  our  opinion  remained  unchanged. 

We  saw  (on  June  20-22)  the  central  Aiguille  from  all  sides, 
and  very  nearly  completely  round  the  southernmost  one.  The 
northern  one  we  also  saw  on  all  sides  excepting  from  the  north.  (It 
is,  however,  precisely  from  this  direction  M.  Joanne  says  that  its 
ascent  is  relatively  easy.)  We  do  not,  therefore,  venture  to  express 
any  opinion  respecting  its  ascent,  except  as  regards  its  actual 
summit.     1Mb  is  formed  of  two  curious  prongs,  or  pinnacles  of 


174  Si 'n AMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  chap.  mm. 

rock,  and  we  do  not  understand  in  what  way  they  <>i  either  of 
them)  can  be  ascended;  nor  shall  we  be  surprised  it  this  ascent  is 
discovered  to  have  been  made  in  Bpiril  rather  than  body  :  in  fact, in 
the  same  manner  as  the  celebrated  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc,  "  not 
quite  to  the  summit,  but  as  far  as  the  Montanverl  I" 

All  three  of  the  Aiguilles  may  be  accessible,  but  they  look  as  in- 
accessible as  anything  I  have  seen.  They  are  the  highest  summits 
between  the  valleys  of  the  Bomanche  and  the  Arc ;  they  are  placed 
slightly  to  the  north  of  tin-  watershed  l>etween  those  two  valleys, and 
a  line  drawn  through  them  runs,  pretty  nearly,  north  and  south.1 

We  descended  by  a  rough  path  from  Rieu  Blanc  t<>  the  < •  billets 
of  La  Sausse,  which  give  the  name  to  the  Vallon  or  Ravine  de  la 
Sausse,  in  which  they  are  situated.  This  is  one  of  the  numerous 
branches  of  the  valley  that  descends  to  St.  Jean  d'Arve,  and 
subsequently  to  St.  Jean  de  Maurienne. 

Two  passes,  more  or  less  known,  lead  from  this  valley  to  the 
village  of  La  Grave  (on  the  Lautaret  road)  in  the  valley  of  the 
Komanche,  namely,  the  Col  de  rinfernet  and  the  Col  de  Martignare. 
The  former  pass  was  crossed  in  1841  by  Prof.  J.  I).  Forbes,  and  was 
mentioned  by  him  at  pp.  292-4  of  his  Nonvay  and  its  Glaciers.  The 
latter  one  lies  to  the  north  of  the  former,  and  is  seldom  traversed 
by  tourists,  but  it  was  convenient  for  us,  and  we  set  out  to  cross 
it  on  the  morning  of  the  22nd,  after  having  passed  a  comfortable, 
though  not  luxurious,  night  in  the  hay,  at  La  Sausse,  where,  how 
ever,  the  simplicity  of  the  accommodation  was  more  than  counter- 
balanced by  the  civility  ami  hospitality  of  the  people  in  charge.2 

1  These  three  Aiguilles  have  now  1 n  climbed,  <>n  several  occasions.     See  the 

Alpine  Journal,  vol.  viii.,  ]»j>.  .17-79,  1876  ;  and  vol.  ix.,  pp.  9f>,  96,  1878. 

-  Whilst  stopping  in  the  hospice  on  the  Col  de  Lautaret,  in  1869,  I  was  accosted 
by  a  middle-aged  pea-ant.  who  asked  if  I  would  ride  (for  a  consideration)  in  hi-  ■  in 
towards  Briancon.  He  was  inquisitive  as  to  my  knowledge  of  hi-  district,  and  at 
last  asked,  "  Have  you  been  at  La  Sausse?"  Ye-."  Well,  then,  I  tell  you,  you 
saw  there  some  of  the  first  peojil-  in  th>  m>rld."  "Yes,"  I  said,  "they  wen  primitive, 
certainly"  But  he  was  serious,  and  went  on — "  Yes,  real  brave  people  :  and.  slap 
pine;  his  knee  to  give  emphasis,  "  hut  that  tktff  n  n-  first -rate  for  wUndtng  tin  rows!" 

After   this   he  became  communicative.      "You  thought,   probably,"  said    he, 


OHAP.  via.  CONFUSION.  175 

[Our  object  now  was  to  cross  to  La  Grave  (on  the  high  road 
from  Grenoble  to  Brian^on),  and  to  ascend,  en  route,  some  point 
sufficiently  high  to  give  us  a  good  view  of  the  Dauphine  Alps  in 
general,  and  of  the  grand  chain  of  the  Meije  in  particular.  Before 
leaving  England  a  careful  study  of  'Joanne'  had  elicited  the  fact 
that  the  shortest  route  from  La  Sausse  to  La  Grave  was  by  the 
Col  de  Martignare;  and  also  that  from  the  aforesaid  Col  it  was 
possible  to  ascend  a  lofty  summit,  called  by  him  the  Bec-du-Grenier, 
also  called  Aiguille  de  Goleon.  On  referring,  however,  to  the 
Sardinian  survey,  we  found  there  depicted,  to  the  east  of  the  Col 
de  Martignare,  not  one  peak  bearing  the  above  two  names,  but  two 
distinct  summits;  one — just  above  the  Col — the  Bec-du-Grenier 
(the  height  of  which  was  not  stated) ;  the  other,  still  farther  to  the 
east,  and  somewhat  to  the  south  of  the  watershed — the  Aiguille  du 
Goleon  (11,250  English  feet  in  height),  with  a  very  considerable 
glacier — the  Glacier  Lombard — between  the  two.  On  the  French 
map,1  on  the  other  hand,  neither  of  the  above  names  was  to  be 
found,  but  a  peak  called  Aiguille  de  la  Sausse  (10,897  feet)  was 
placed  in  the  position  assigned  to  the  Bec-du-Grenier  in  the  Sar- 
dinian map ;  while  farther  to  the  east  was  a  second  and  nameless 
peak  (10,841),  not  at  all  in  the  position  given  to  the  Aiguille  du 
Goleon,  of  which  and  of  the  Glacier  Lombard  there  was  not  a  sign. 
All  this  was  very  puzzling  and  unsatisfactory ;  but  as  we  had  no 
doubt  of  being  able  to  climb  one  of  the  points  to  the  east  of  the 
Col  de  Martignare  (which  overhung  the  llavine  de  la  Sausse),  we 
determined  to  make  that  col  the  basis  of  our  operations.]2 

"when  I  offered  to  take  you  clown,  that  I  was  some  poor ,  not  worth  a  sou;  hut 

I  will  tell  you,  that  was  my  mountain  !  my  mountain  !  that  you  saw  at  La  Sausse  ; 
they  were  my  cows  !  a  hundred  of  them  altogether."  "Why,  you  are  rich."  "  Pass- 
ably rich.  I  have  another  mountain  on  the  Col  du  Galihier,  and  another  at  Ville- 
neuve."  He  (although  a  common  peasant  in  outward  appearauce)  confessed  to  being 
worth  four  thousand  pounds. 

1  We  had  seen  a  tracing  from  the  unpublished  sheets  of  the  French  Government 
Survey. 

2  The  bracketed  paragraphs  in  Chaps.  VIII.  IX.  and  X.  are  extracted  from  the 
Jourual  of  Mr.  A.  W.  Moore. 


176  SCRAMBLES  AM0N08T  THE  ALPS,  chap,  the, 

We  left   tin-  chalets  at    k  1  ">  A.M.  [under  a  shown   ofg I  Wl 

from  our  hostesses],  proceeded  at  first    towards  the  upper  end   of 

the  ravine,  then  doubled  back  up  a  long  buttress  which  projects 

in  an  unusual  way,  and  went  towards  the  Col  ilr  Mai  tignare  ;  hut 
before  arriving  at  its  summit  we  again  doubled,  and  resumed  the 
original  course.  At  G  a.m.  we  stood  on  the  watershed,  and  fol- 
lowed it  towards  the  east ;  keeping  for  some  distance  strictly  to 
the  ridge,  and  afterwards  diverging  a  little  to  the  south  to  avoid  a 
considerable  secondary  aiguille,  which  prevented  a  straight  track 
being  made  to  the  summit  at  which  we  were  aiming.  At  9.15  we 
stood  on  its  top,  and  saw  at  once  the  lay  of  the  land. 

We  found  that  our  peak  was  one  of  four  which  enclosed  a  pla- 
teau that  was  filled  by  a  glacier.  Let  us  call  these  summits 
A,  B,  C,  D  (see  plan  on  p.  170).  We  stood  upon  C,  which  was  almost 
exactly  the  same  elevation  as  B,  but  was  higher  than  D,  and  lower 
than  A.  Peak  A  was  the  highest  of  the  four,  and  was  about  200 
feet  higher  than  B  and  C  ;  we  identified  it  as  the  Aiguille  de  Goleon 
(French  survey,  11,250  feet).  Peak  D  we  considered  was  the  Bec- 
du-Grenier  ;  and,  in  default  of  other  names,  we  called  B  and  C  the 
Aiguilles  de  la  Sausse.  The  glacier  flowed  in  a  south-easterly 
direction,  and  was  the  Glacier  Lombard. 

Peaks  B  and  C  overhung  the  ltavine  de  la  Sausse,  and  were 
connected  with  another  aiguille — E — which  did  the  same.  A  con- 
tinuation of  the  ridge  out  of  which  these  three  aiguilles  rose  joined 
the  Aiguilles  d'Arve.  The  head  of  the  Ravine  de  la  Sausse  was 
therefore  encircled  by  six  peaks  ;  three  of  which  it  was  convenient 
to  term  the  Aiguilles  de  la  Sausse,  and  the  others  were  the  Aiguilles 
d'Arve.1 

We  were  fortunate  in  the  selection  of  our  summit.  Not  to 
speak  <»f  other  things,  it  gave  a  grand  view  of  the  ridge  which  cnl- 

1  It  would  be  unprofitable  to  enter  into  a  discussion  of  the  confusion  of  these 
names  at  greater  length.  It  is  sufficient  to  say  that  they  were  confounded  in  a  most 
perplexing  manner  by  all  the  authorities  \vc  wire  able  to  consult,  and  also  by  the 
natives  on  the  spot. 


.ha I-.  vi u.  Till-:   MEIJS.  177 

urinates  in  the  peak  called  La  .Meije  (13,080  feet),  which  used  t<>  l»' 
mentioiied  by  travellers  under  the  name  Aiguille  do  Midi  de  la 
Grave.  The  view  of  this  mountain  from  the  village  of  La  Grave 
tan  hardly  be  spoken  of  too  highly, — it  is  one  of  the  very  finest 
road-views  in  the  Alps.  The  Ortler  Spitz  from  the  Stelvio  is,  in 
fact,  its  only  worthy  competitor;  and  the  opinions  generally  of 
those  who  have  seen  the  two  views  are  in  favour  of  the  former. 
But  from  La  Grave  one  can  no  more  appreciate  the  noble  pro- 
portions and  the  towering  height  of  the  Meije,  than  understand 
the  symmetry  of  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  by  gazing  upon  it  from 
the  churchyard.  To  see  it  fairly,  one  must  be  placed  at  a  greater 
distance  and  at  a  greater  height. 

I  shall  not  try  to  describe  the  Meije.  The  same  words,  and  the 
same  phrases,  have  to  do  duty  for  one  and  another  mountain  ;  their 
repetition  becomes  wearisome ;  and  'tis  a  discouraging  fact  that 
any  description,  however  true  or  however  elaborated,  seldom  or 
never  gives  an  idea  of  the  reality. 

Yet  the  Meije  deserves  more  than  a  passing  notice.  It  was 
the  last  great  Alpine  peak  to  be  trodden  by  the  foot  of  man,  and 
one  can  hardly  speak  in  exaggerated  terms  of  its  jagged  ridges, 
torrential    glaciers,   and    tremendous    precipices.1      But   were    I 

1  The  ridge  called  La  Meije  runs  from  E.S.E.  to  W.N.W.,  aiid  is  crowned  by 
numerous  aiguilles  of  tolerably  equal  elevation.  Two  of  the  highest  are  towards  the 
eastern  and  western  ends  of  the  ridge,  and  are  rather  more  than  a  mile  apart.  To 
the  former  the  French  surveyors  assign  a  height  of  12,730,  and  to  the  latter  13,080 
feet. 

In  1869  I  carefully  examined  the  eastern  end  of  the  ridge  from  the  top  of  the  Col 
de  Lautaret,  and  saw  that  the  summit  at  that  end  could  be  ascended  by  following  a 
long  glacier  which  descends  from  it  towards  the  N.E.  into  the  valley  of  Arsine. 
I  thought  that  the  kigkat  summit  might  present  difficulties,  but  was  i*ossibly 
le.  Since  then  it  has  been  ascended  many  times.  See  the  Alf&m  Jbmnol, 
vols.  Ix.,  pp.  1121-136,  411-27;  xii.,  pp.  391-406,  410,460-62;  xiv.,  pp.  163,326, 
375-6  ;  xv.,  542. 

Sheet  189  of  the  French  map  is  inaccurate  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Meije. 
and  particularly  so  on  its  northern  side.  The  ridges  and  glaciers  which  are  laid 
down  upon  it  cau  scarcely  be  ideutitied  on  the  spot 

2  A 


178  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  Airs.  chap,  vm. 

to  discourse  upon  these  things  without  the  aid  of  pictures,  or  t" 
endeavour  t<>  convey  in  wards  a  Bense  of  the  Loveliness  ofcurta 
the  beauty  of  colour,  or  of  the  harmonies  of  sound,  I  Bhould  try  to 
accomplish  that  which  is  bnpossible;  and,  at  the  best,  should  suc- 
ceed in  but  giving  an  impression  that  the  things  spoken  <>i'  may 
have  been  pleasant  to  hear  or  to  behold,  although  they  are  perfectly 
incomprehensible  t<>  read  about  Let  me  therefore  avoid  these 
things,  ool  because  I  have  no  Love  for  or  thought  of  them,  but 
because  they  cannot  be  translated  into  language ;  and  presently, 
when  topographical  details  must,  of  necessity,  he  returned  to  again, 

I  will  endeavour  to  relieve  the  poverty  of  the  pen  by  a  free  use  of 
the  pencil 

Whilst  we  sat  upon  the  Aiguille  de  la  Sausse,  our  attention  was 
concentrated  on  a  point  which  was  immediately  opposite — ona  gap 
or  cleft  between  the  &feije  and  the  mountain  called  the  Bateau 

It  was.  indeed,  in  order  to  have  a  good  view  of  this  place  that  we 
made  the  ascent  of  the  Aiguille.  It  (that  is  the  gap  itself  looked, 
as  my  companions  remarked,  obtrusively  ami  offensively  a  pass. 
It  had  not  been  crossed,  but  it  ought  to  have  been:  and  this 
seemed  to  have  heen  reci Rinsed  by  the  natives,  who  called  it,  very 
appropriately,  the  Brdche  de  la  Meije. 

I  had  seen  this  gap  in  1860,  and  again  in  18G1,  but  had 
not   then   thought   about  getting  through   it.      Our  information 

in  respect  to  it  was  chiefly  derived  from  a  photographic  re- 
production of  the  then  unpublished  sheet  lsii  of  the  great  map 
of     France,    which      Mr.    Tuckett     had     placed     at     OUT    disposal 

II  was  evident  from   this  map  that   if  we  could  succeed   in   pass- 

ing  the  Breche,  we  Bhould  make  the  most  direct  route  possible 
between  the  villages  of  La  Grave  ami  La  Berarde,  and  that 
the  distance  between  these  two  places,  by  this  route,  would  be 

han   one-third   that   of  the  ordinary   way    vid   the   \  i  1 1 . i _ 
Freney  and  Venoa      It  may  OOCUr  to  some  of  my  readers,  why  had 

not  this  been  done  before?  For  the  very  sound  reason  that  the 
\ alley  on  i he  southern  side  (Yallon  d<-<  Etancons)  is  iininhahited. 


chap.  viii.  WHO  IS  MELCHIOR  ANDEREGG  ?  179 

and  La  Berarde  itself  is  a  miserable  village,  without  interest*  with- 
out commerce,  and  almost  without  population.  Why  then  did  uh 
wish  to  cross  it?  Because  we  were  bound  for  the  Pointe  des 
Ecrins,  to  which  La  Berarde  was  the  nearest  inhabited  place. 

When  we  sat  upon  the  Aiguille  de  la  Sausse,  we  were  rather 
despondent  about  our  prospects  of  crossing  the  Breche,  which 
seemed  to  present  a  combination  of  all  that  was  formidable.  There 
was,  evidently,  but  one  way  by  which  it  could  be  approached.  We 
saw  that  at  the  top  of  the  pass  there  was  a  steep  wall  of  snow  or  ice 
(so  steep  that  it  was  most  likely  ice)  protected  at  its  base  by  a  big 
schrund  or  moat,  which  severed  it  from  the  snow-fields  below. 
Then  (tracking  our  course  downwards)  we  saw  undulating  snow- 
fields  leading  down  to  a  great  glacier.  The  snow-fields  would  be 
easy  work,  but  the  glacier  was  riven  and  broken  in  every  direction  ; 
huge  crevasses  seemed  to  extend  entirely  across  it  in  some  places, 
and  everywhere  it  had  that  strange  twisted  look,  which  tells  of  the 
unequal  motion  of  the  ice.  Where  could  we  get  on  to  it  ?  At 
its  base  it  came  to  a  violent  end,  being  cut  short  by  a  cliff,  over 
which  it  poured  periodical  avalanches,  as  we  saw  by  a  great 
triangular  bed  of  debris  below.  We  could  not  venture  there, — the 
glacier  must  be  taken  in  flank.  On  which  side  ?  Not  on  the  west, 
— no  one  could  climb  those  cliffs.  It  must,  if  anywhere,  be  by 
the  rocks  on  the  east;  and  they  looked  as  if  they  were  roc?ies 
moutonntes. 

So  we  hurried  down  to  La  Grave,  to  hear  what  Melchior 
Anderegg  (who  had  just  passed  through  the  village  with  the 
family  of  our  friend  Walker)  had  to  say  on  the  matter.  Who 
is  Melchior  Anderegg  ?  Those  who  ask  the  question  cannot  have 
been  in  Alpine  Switzerland,  where  the  name  of  Melchior  is  as  well 
known  as  the  name  of  Napoleon.  Melchior,  too,  is  an  Emperor 
in  his  way — a  very  Prince  among  guides.  His  empire  is  aim  must 
the  'eternal  snows,' — his  sceptre  is  an  ice-axe. 

Melchior  Anderegg,  more  familiarly,  and  perhaps  more  gen- 
erally   known     simply    as    Melchior,    was    born    at    Zaun,    0682 


180 


8CBAMBLB8  AMONGST  THE  ALP8. 


(MAP.    VIII. 


Ifeiringen,  on  April  (>,  1828.-    He  w.is  first   brought  into  public 

notice  in  Ilinchclilfs  Suiiiiiur  Months  in  th>  Alp$,  and  was 
kii.»\vn  to  very  few  persons  at  the  time  that  little  wmk  was 
published.    In  1855  he  was  "Boots"  at  the  Grimse!  Hotel,  and 

in  those  days,  when  he  went 
out  on  expeditions,  it  whs  for 
the  l>enefit  of  his  master,  the 
proprietor;  Melchior  himself 
only  got  the  trinkgelt  In  1856 
lie  migrated  to  the  Schwann- 
bach  Inn  on  the  Gemini,  where 
he  employed  his  time  in  carving 
objects  for  sale.  In  1858  he 
made  several  expeditions  with 
Messrs.  Hinchclih"  and  Stephen, 
and  proved  to  his  employers  that 
he  possessed  first-rate  skill,  in- 
domitable courage,  and  an  ad- 
mirable character.  His  position 
has  never  been  doubtful  since 
that  year,  and  for  a  long  t inn- 
there  has  been  no  guide  whose 
services  have  been  more  in  re- 
quest. He  is  usually  en-a-ed  a 
year  in   advance. 

It  would  be  almost  an  easier 
task  to  say  what  he  has  not  dune  than  to  catalogue  his  achievement 
Invariable  success  attends  his  arms.  He  leads  his  followers  to 
victor}',  but  not  to  death.  I  believe  that  DO  accident  has  evei 
befallen  travellers  in  his  charge,  bike  his  friend  Aimer,  he  can 
be  called  a  srij'r  man.  It  is  the  highest  praise  that  can  be  given 
to  a  first-rate  guide. 

Barry  in  the  afternoon  we  found  ourselves  in  the  little  inn  at 
La  Grave,  <'ii    the  great  Lautaret  road:    a  rickety,  tumble-down 


MEi-ClilOR  asdhkci;  in  1864. 


chap.  vin.  FIRST  PASSAGE  OF  THE  BRECHE.  181 

sort  of  place,  with  nothing  stable  about  it,  as  Moore  wittily 
remarked,  except  the  smell.1  Melchior  had  gone,  and  had  left 
behind  a  note  which  said,  "  I  think  the  passage  of  the  Breche  is 
possible,  but  that  it  will  be  very  difficult."  His  opinion  coincided 
with  ours,  and  we  went  to  sleep,  expecting  to  be  afoot  about 
eighteen  or  twenty  hours  on  the  morrow. 

At  2.40  the  next  morning  we  left  La  Grave,  in  a  few  minutes 
crossed  the  Eomanche,  and  at  4  a.m.  got  to  the  moraine  of  the 
eastern  branch  of  the  glacier  that  descends  from  the  Breche.2 
The  rocks  by  which  we  intended  to  ascend  were  placed  between 
the  two  branches  of  this  glacier,  and  still  looked  smooth  and  un- 
broken. By  5  o'clock  we  were  upon  them,  and  saw  that  we  had 
been  deluded  by  them.  No  carpenter  could  have  planned  a  more 
convenient  staircase.  They  were  not  moutonne'e,  their  smooth  look 
from  a  distance  was  only  owing  to  their  singular  firmness.  [It  was 
really  quite  a  pleasure  to  scale  such  delightful  rocks.  We  felt 
the  stone  held  the  boot  so  well,  that,  without  making  a  positive 
effort  to  do  so,  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  slip.]  In  an  hour 
we  had  risen  above  the  most  crevassed  portion  of  the  glacier,  and 
began  to  look  for  a  way  on  to  it.  Just  at  the  right  place  there 
was  a  patch  of  old  snow  at  the  side,  and,  instead  of  gaining  the  ice 
by  desperate  acrobatic  feats,  we  passed  from  the  rocks  on  to  it  as 
easily  as  one  walks  across  a  gangway.  At  half-past  6  we  were 
on  the  centre  of  the  glacier,  and  the  inhabitants  of  La  Grave 
turned  out  en  masse  into  the  road,  and  watched  us  with  amaze- 
ment as  they  witnessed  the  falsification  of  their  confident  predic- 
tions. Well  might  they  stare,  for  our  little  caravan,  looking  to 
them  like  a  train  of  flies  on  a  wall,  crept  up  and  up,  without 

1  The  justness  of  the  observation  will  be  felt  by  those  who  knew  La  Grave  in 
or  before  1864.  At  that  time  the  horses  of  the  couriers  who  were  jessing  from 
Grenoble  to  Briancon,  and  vice  versa,  were  lodged  immediately  underneath  the 
salle-a-manger  and  bedrooms,  and  a  pungent,  steamy  odour  rose  from  them  through 
the  eraeks  in  the  floor,  and  constantly  pervaded  the  whole  house. 

2  Our  route  from  La  Grave  to  La  Berarde  will  be  seen  on  the  accompanying 
map. 


IS -J 


srii.iMHr.KS  AMo.XGST  THE  ALPS. 


ill  \|\  viii. 


hesitation  anil  without  I  h;ili  Inst  |«»  ih.-ir  si<_r!il  <»nc  niiniit.'  M 
it  dived  into  a  crevasse,  then  seen  again  elambering  up  the  othea 
side.  Tlie  higher  we  rose,  the  easier  lieeame 
the  work.  The  angles  lessened,  and  our  pace 
increased.     The  snow  remained  shadowed, 

and  we  Walked  as  easily  as  on  a  high   load  ; 

and  when  fat  7.46)  the  summit  of  the  Brdohe 
was  seen,  we  rushed  at  it  as  furiously  as  it  it 
had  been  a  breach  in  the  wall  of  a  fori 
carried  the  moat  by  a  dash,  with  a  push 
behind  and  a  pull  before,  stormed  the  steep 
slope  above,  and  at  8.50  stood  in  the  little 
gap,  11,054  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 
The  Breche  was  won.  Well  might  they 
stare;  five  hours  and  a  quarter  had  sufficed 
for  6500  feet  of  ascent.1  We  screamed  tri- 
umphantly as  they  turned  in  to  breakfast. 
All  mountaineers  know  how  valuable  it 
is  to  study  beforehand  an  intended  route 
over  new  ground  from  a  height  at  some  dis- 
tance. None  but  blunderers  fail  to  do  so, 
if  it  is  possible ;  and  one  cannot  do  so  too 
thoroughly.  As  a  rule,  the  closer  one  ap- 
proaches underneath  a  summit,  the  more  difficult  it  is  to  pick  out 
a  path  with  judgment.  Inferior  peaks  seem  unduly  important, 
subordinate  ridges  are  exalted,  and  slopes  conceal  points  beyond  : 
and  if  one  blindly  undertakes  an  ascent,  without  having  acquired 
a  tolerable  notion  of  the  relative  importance  of  the  parts,  and 
of  their  positions  to  one  another,  it  will  be  miraculous  if  great 
difficulties  are  not  encountered. 

But  although  the  examination  of  an   intended  route  from  a 
height  at  a  distance  will  tell  one  (who  knows  the  meaning  of  the 

1  Taking  one  kind  of  work  with  another,  a  thousand  feet  of  height  ]*'r  hour  is 
ahout  as  much  as  is  usually  accniii]>lisln-<l  on  great  Alpine  ascents. 


SCALE,  THREE  MILES  TO  AN 
INCH. 


OBAF.vm.  QLACISR  PREFERABLE  TO  ROCKS.  183 

things  he  is  looking  at)  a  good  deal,  and  will  enable  him  to  steer 
clear  of  many  ditticulties  against  which  he  might  otherwise  blindly 
run,  it  will  seldom  allow  one  to  pronounce  positively  upon  the 
practicability  or  impracticability  of  the  whole  of  the  route.  No 
living  man,  for  example,  can  pronounce  positively  from  a  distance 
in  regard  to  rocks.  There  is  an  illustration  of  this  in  the  case 
which  has  just  been  mentioned.  Three  of  the  ablest  and  most 
experienced  guides  concurred  in  thinking  that  the  rocks  we  should 
have  to  pass  would  be  found  very  difficult,  and  they  presented 
no  difficulty  whatever.  In  truth,  the  sounder  and  less  broken 
up  are  rocks,  the  more  impracticable  do  they  usually  look  from 
a  distance;  while  soft  and  easily  rent  rocks,  which  are  often 
amongst  the  most  difficult  and  perilous  to  climb,  very  frequently 
look  from  afar  as  if  they  might  be  traversed  by  a  child. 

It  is  possible  to  decide  with  greater  certainty  in  regard  to  the 
practicability  of  glaciers.  When  one  is  seen  to  have  few  open  cre- 
vasses (and  this  may  be  told  from  a  great  distance),  then  we  know 
that  it  is  possible  to  traverse  it ;  but  to  what  extent  it,  or  a  glacier 
that  is  much  broken  up  by  crevasses,  will  be  troublesome,  will 
depend  upon  the  width  and  length  of  the  crevasses,  and  upon  the 
angles  of  the  surface  of  the  glacier  itself.  A  glacier  may  be  greatly 
crevassed,  but  the  fissures  may  be  so  narrow  that  there  is  no  occa- 
sion to  deviate  from  a  straight  line  when  passing  across  them ;  or 
a  glacier  may  have  few  open  crevasses,  and  yet  may  be  practically 
impassable  on  account  of  the  steepness  of  the  angles  of  its  surface. 
Nominally,  a  man  with  an  axe  can  go  anywhere  upon  a  glacier,  but 
in  practice  it  is  found  that  to  move  freely  upon  ice  one  must  have 
to  deal  only  with  small  angles.  It  is  thus  necessary  to  know- 
approximately  the  angles  of  the  surfaces  of  a  glacier  before  it  is 
possible  to  determine  whether  it  will  afford  easy  travelling,  or  will 
be  so  difficult  as  to  be  (for  all  practical  purposes)  impassable.  This 
cannot  be  told  by  looking  at  glaciers  in  full  face  from  a  distance ; 
they  must  be  seen  in  profile ;  and  it  is  often  desirable  to  examine 
them  both  from  the  front  and  in  profile, — to  do  the  first  to  study 


184  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  Airs.  chap.  mm. 

the  direction  of  the  crevasses,  to  note  where  they  are  mod  ami  least 
Dumerous;  ami  the  second  to  sec  whether  its  angles  are  moderate 
or  great  Should  they  be  very  steep,  it  may  be  better  to  avoid 
them  altogether,  and  to  mount  even  by  difficult  rocks;  but  upon 
glaciers  of  gmtl i  inclination,  and  with  few  open  crevasses,  better 
progress  can  always  be  made  than   upon  the  easiest  rocks. 

So  much  to  explain  why  we  were  deceived  when  looking  at  the 
Brdche  de  la  Meije  from  the  Aiguille  de  la  Sausse.  We  took  note 
of  all  the  difficulties,  but  did  not  pay  sufficient  attention  to  the 
distance  that  the  Urn-he  was  south  of  La  Grave.  My  meaning  will 
be  apparent  from  the  accompanying  diagram,  Fig.  1  (constructed 

Fig.  2.  Fig.  i. 


i 

- » i 


2  78  00'- — + 


upon  the  data  supplied  by  the  French  surveyors),  which  will  also 
serve  to  illustrate  how  badly  angles  of  elevation  are  judged  by 
the  una  it  led  eye. 

The  village  of  La  Grave  is  just  5000. feet,  and  the  highest  sum- 
mit of  the  Meije  is  13,080  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  There 
is  therefore  a  difference  in  their  levels  of  8080  feet.  But  the 
summit  of  the  Meije  is  south  of  La  Grave  about  14,750  feet,  and. 
consequently,  a  line  drawn  from  La  Grave  to  the  summit  of  the 
Meije  is  no  steeper  than  the  dotted  line  drawn  from  A  to  C, Fig.  1  : 
or,  in  other  words,  if  one  could  go  in  a  direct  line  from  La  Grave 
to  the  summit  of  the  Meije  the  ascent  would  be  at  an  angle  of  less 
than  30°.  Nine  persons  out  of  ten  would  probably  estimate  the 
angle  on  the  spot  at  double  this  amount.1 

The  Brdche  is  2000  feet  below  the  summit  of  the  Meije,  and 

1   Fig.  2  lepnMita  la  I  .similar  manner  the  distance  and  elevation  <>f  the  Mattel 
horn  from  and  above  Zermatt     See  p.  75. 


chap.  viii.  VALLON  DES  ETANQONS.  185 

only  6000  feet  above  La  Grave.  A  direct  ascent  from  the  village 
to  the  Breche  would  consequently  be  at  an  angle  of  not  much  more 
than  20°.  But  it  is  not  possible  to  make  the  ascent  as  the  crow 
flies ;  it  has  to  be  made  by  an  indirect  and  much  longer  route.  Our 
track  was  probably  double  the  length  of  a  direct  line  between  the 
two  places.  Doubling  the  length  halved  the  angles,  and  we  there- 
fore arrive  at  the  somewhat  amazing  conclusion,  that  upon  this,  one 
of  the  steepest  passes  in  the  Alps,  the  mean  of  all  the  angles  upon 
the  ascent  could  not  have  been  greater  than  11°  or  12°.  Of  course, 
in  some  places,  the  angles  were  much  steeper,  and  in  others  less, 
but  the  mean  of  the  whole  could  not  have  passed  the  angle  above 
indicated. 

We  did  not  trouble  ourselves  much  with  these  matters  when  we 
sat  on  the  top  of  the  Breche.  Our  day's  work  was  as  good  as  over 
(for  we  knew  from  Messrs.  Mathews  and  Bonney  that  there  was  no 
difficulty  upon  the  other  side),  and  we  abandoned  ourselves  to  ease' 
and  luxury ;  wondering,  alternately,  as  we  gazed  upon  the  Bateau 
and  the  Ecrins,  how  the  one  mountain  could  possibly  hold  itself 
together,  and  whether  the  other  would  hold  out  against  lis.  The 
former  looked  [so  rotten  that  it  seemed  as  if  a  puff  of  wind  or  a  clap 
of  thunder  might  dash  the  whole  fabric  to  pieces]  ;  while  the  latter 
asserted  itself  the  monarch  of  the  group,  and  towered  head  and 
shoulders  above  all  the  rest  of  the  peaks  which  form  the  great 
horse-shoe  of  Dauphine.  At  length  a  cruel  rush  of  cold  air  made 
us  shiver,  and  shift  our  quarters  to  a  little  grassy  plot,  3000  feet 
below — an  oasis  in  a  desert — where  we  lay  nearly  four  hours  ad- 
miring the  splendid  wall  which  protects  the  summit  of  the  Meqe 
from  assault  upon  this  side.1  Then  we  tramped  down  the  Vallon 
dee  Ktancons;  a  howling  wilderness,  the  abomination  of  desola- 
tion ;  destitute  alike  of  animal  <>r  vegetable  life  ;  pathless,  of  course  ; 

1  This  wall  may  be  described  as  an  exaggerated  (it-mini,  as  seen  from  Lt-ukcrltad. 
Fniiii  the  highest  summit  of  La  Meije  right  down  to  the  Glacier  des  RtsnftMH  ■ 
deptb.  of  about  3200  feet),  the  oHff  is  all  bol  perpendicular,  and  appeared  to  us  to  be 
••■•in |.lt-t«l \   unassailable. 

2  i; 


is.; 


sritAMIil.KS   AUi>XaST  THE   ALPS. 


CH  \i\  VIM. 


stive  of  chaos,  but  of  liti  1«-  else;  oovered  almost  throughout 
Its  entire  Length  with  debris  from  the  size  of  a  walnut  op  to  1 1  ■:> t 
of  h  bouse;  in  a  word,  it  looked  as  if  half-a-dozen  Bret-claw 
moraines  had  been  carted  and  shot  into  it.  Our  tempera  were 
soured  by  eonatant  pitfalls  [it  was  impossible  to  take  the 


■  *£  :. 


TIIK    VAl.l.ON    DBS    KTANfONS   (LOOKING    TOWARDS    I. A    IttfRAKOF.).  ' 

from  the  feet,  and  it'  an  unlucky  individual  BO  much  as  blew  liis 
nose,  without  standing  still  to  perform  the  operation,  the  result 
was  either  an  instantaneous  tumble,  or  a  barked  shin,  or  a  half- 
twisted  ankle.  There  was  no  end  to  it,  and  we  became  more 
Barege  at  every  step,  unanimously  agreeing  that  no  power  ou  earth 
would  ever  induce  us  to  walk  up  or  down  this  particular  valley 

again,]  It  was  not  just  to  the  valley,  which  was  enclosed  l.y 
Doble  mountains.  — unknown,  it    is   true,   hut   worthy   of  a 

1  Tim  drawing  was  in.i<  1  vi-rt <nt ] y  mad.'  th«-  li^ht  way  on  the  wood,  and  tin-  view 
ii  now  reversed  in  OMtfaqttenoa 


«  mm-,  vin.  MAN  AND  NATURE.  187 

reputation,  and  which,  if  placed  in  other  districts,  would  1x3  sought 
after,  and  cited  as  types  of  daring  form  and  graceful  outline. 

Not  so  very  long  ago,  perhaps,  the  Vallon  des  Etancons  wore 
a    more  cheerful  aspect.      It  is  well   known  that  many  of  the 
French  Alpine  valleys  have  rapidly  deteriorated  in  quite  modern 
times.     Blanqui  pointed  out,  a  few  years  ago,  some  of  the  causes 
which  have  brought  this  about,  in  an  address  to  the  Academy  of 
Sciences;  and,  although  his  remarks  are  not  entirely  applicable  to 
this  very  valley,  the  chapter  may  be  properly  closed  with  some  of 
his  vigorous  sentences.     He  said,  "The  abuse  of  the  right  of  pas- 
turage, and  the  felling  of  the  woods,  have  stripped  the  soil  of  all 
its  grass  and  all  its  trees,  and  the  scorching  sun  bakes  it  to  the 
consistence  of  porphyry.     When  moistened  by  the  rain,  as  it  has 
neither  support  nor  cohesion,  it  rolls  down  into  the  valleys,  some- 
times in  floods  resembling  black,   yellow,  or  reddish  lava,  and 
sometimes  in  streams  of  pebbles,  and  even  huge  blocks  of  stone, 
which  pour  down  with  a  frightful  roar.     .     .     Vast  deposits  of 
llinty  pebbles,  many  feet  in  thickness,  which  have  rolled  down  and 
spread  far  over  the  plain,  surround  large  trees,  bury  even  their 
tops,  and  rise  above  them.     .     .     The  gorges,  under  the  influence 
of  the  sun  which  cracks  and  shivers  to  fragments  the  very  rocks, 
and  of  the  rain  which  sweeps  them  down,  penetrate  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  heart  of  the  mountain,  while  the  beds  of  the 
torrents  issuing  from  them  are  sometimes  raised  several  feet  in  a 
Bingle  year  by  the  debris.     .     .     An  indirect  proof  of  the  increase 
of  the  evil  is  to  be  found  in  the  depopulation  of  the  country. 
Unless  prompt   and   energetic  measures  are   taken,  it   is 
easy  to   fix    the   epoch  when   the   French  Alps  will   be   but   a 
desert     .     .     Every  year  will  aggravate  the  evil,  and  in  half-a- 
oentury  France   will  count   more  ruins,  and   a  department    the 
less." ' 

1  Quoted  from  Marsh's  Man  and  Ntctmr. 


CHAPTEB    IX. 

THK   I-ii:st  asckm'  <iF  tiik   POINTS   DBS   RCBIMa 

''  Filled  witli  high  liiHiintaiiis,  rearing  tlioir  heads  as  if  to  reach  to  heaven,  crow  ned 
with  glaciers,  ami  brand  with  iniimiisi-  cliasms,  where  lie  the  eternal  snows  guarded 
by  bare  and  rugged  dill's  ;  offering  the  most  varied  sights,  and  enjoying  all  tempera- 
tures  ;  and  containing  everything  that  is  most  curious  and  interesting,  the  most 
simple  and  the  most  sublime,  the  most  smiling  and  the  most  severe,  the  moal  beau- 
tiful  and  the  most  awful;  such  is  the  department  of  the  High  Alps." 

LADOtri  i  i  i  r. 

Bdobi  5  o'clock  on  fche  afternoon  of  June  23,  we  were  trotting 

down  the  steep  path  that  leads  into  La  B&arde.  We  pui  up.  id' 
course,  with  the  ehasseur-<juide  Etodier  (who,  as  usual,  was  sin. ...tli 
aud  smiling),  and,  after  congratulations  were  over,  we  returned  to 
the  exterior  to  watch  for  the  arrival  of  one  Alexander  Pic,  win. 
had  been  sent  overnight  with  our  baggage  rid  rYeney  and  Venos. 
But  when  night  fell,  and  no  Pic  appeared,  we  saw  that  our  plans 
must  be  modified;  for  he  was  necessary  to  our  very  existence — he 
carried  our  food,  our  tobacco,  our  all.  So,  alter  BOine  discussion,  it 
was  agreed  that  a  portion  of  our  programme  should  be  abandoned, 
that  the  night  of  the  24th  should  be  passed  at  the  head  of  the 
Glacier  de  la  Bonne  Pierre,  and  that,  on  the  25th,  a  push  should 
be  made  for  the  summit  of  the  Bering.      We  then  went  to  straw.1 

Our  porter  Pic  strolled  in  next  morning  with  a  very  jaunty 
air,  and  we  seized  upon  our  tooth-brushes;  but,  upon  Looking  for 
the  cigars,  we  found  starvation  staring  us  in  the  face.  "Hullo: 
M'.usieur  Tie,  where  are  the  cigars  ?"  "Gentlemen,'"  he  began,  "  I 
am  desolated!"  and  then, quite  pat,  he  t<>l.l  a  Long  rigmarole  about 
a  fit  on  the  road,  of  brigands,  thieves,  of  their  ransacking  the  knap- 

1  In  1887,  a  little  inn  was  opeued  at  La  Berarde,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Societe  des  Touriates  du  Dauphiiu . 


niMMx.      EN  ROUTE  FoR  THE  POINTS  DES  EGRINS. 


189 


Backs  when  be  was  insensible,  and  of  finding  them  gone  when  he 
revived  !  "Ah  !  Monsieur  Pie,  we  see  what  it  is,  you  have  smoked 
them  yourself!"  "Gentlemen,  I  never  smoke,  never!"  Where- 
upon we  inquired  secretly  if  he  was  known  to  smoke,  and  found 
that  he  was.  However,  he  said  that  he  had  never  spoken  truer 
woids,  and  perhaps  he  had  not,  for  he  was  reported  to  be  the 
greatest  liar  in  Dauphine*  I 

We  were  now  able  to  start,  and  set  out  at  1.15  p.m.  to  bivouac 


^BH^t^/ /^ 'V\^  THE  CENTRAL  DAUPHINS  ALPS. 


upon  the  Glacier  de  la  Bonne  Pierre,  accompanied  by  Kodier,  who 
staggered  under  a  load  of  blankets.  Many  slopes  had  to  be  mounted, 
and  many  torrents  to  be  crossed,  all  of  which  has  been  described 
by  Mr.  Tuckett.1  We,  however,  avoided  the  difficulties  he  experi- 
enced with  the  torrents  by  crossing  them  high  up,  where  they  were 
subdivided.  But  when  we  got  on  to  the  moraine  on  the  right  bank 
of  the  glacier  (or,  properly  speaking,  on  to  one  of  the  moraines,  for 
there  are  several),  mists  descended,  to  our  great  hindrance;  and 

1  Alpine  Journal,  December  1863. 


190  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  obxb.vl 

it  was  5.30  before  we  arrived  on  the  ipot  at  which  it  was  intended 

fcO  ramp. 

oh  one  selected  his  nook,  ami  we  thru  joined  round  a  grand 
fire  made  by  our  men.  Fortnmn  and  Mason's  portable  soup  was 
alioed  up  and  brewed,  and  was  excellent;  but  it  should  be  said 
that  before  it  was  excellent,  three  times  the  quantity  named  in  the 
directions  had  to  be  used.  Art  is  required  in  drinking  as  in  mak- 
ing this  soup,  and  nut-  point  18  this — always  let  your  friends  drink 
first  :  not  only  because  it  is  more  polite,  but  because  the  soup  has 
a  tendency  to  burn  the  month  if  taken  too  hot,  and  one  drink  of 
the  bottom  is  worth  two  of  the  top,  as  all  the  goodness  settles. 

[While  engaged  in  these  operations,  the  mist  that  enveloped  the 
glacier  and  surrounding  peaks  was  becoming  thinner;  little  bits  of 
blue  sky  appeared  here  and  there,  until  suddenly,  when  we  were 
looking  towards  the  head  of  the  glacier,  far,  far  above  us,  at  an 
almost  inconceivable  height,  in  a  tiny  patch  of  blue,  appeared  a 
wonderful  rocky  pinnacle,  bathed  in  the  beams  of  the  fast-sinking 
sun.  We  were  so  electrified  by  the  glory  of  the  sight  that  it  was 
some  seconds  before  we  realised  what  we  saw,  and  understood  that 
that  astounding  point,  removed  apparently  miles  from  the  earth, 
was  one  of  the  highest  summits  of  Les  Ecrins;  and  that  we  hoped, 
before  another  sun  had  set,  to  have  stood  upon  an  even  loftier 
pinnacle.  The  mists  rose  and  fell,  presenting  OS  with  a  series  of 
dissolving  views  of  ravishing  grandeur,  and  finally  died  away. 
leaving  the  glacier  and  its  mighty  bounding  precipices  under  an 
exquisite  pale  blue  sky,  free  from  a  single  speck  of  cloud.] 

The  night  passed  over  without  anything  worth  mention,  but  we 
had  occasion  to  observe  in  the  morning  an  instance  of  the  curious 
evaporation  that  is  frequently  noticeable  in  the  High  Alps  <  hi 
the  previous  night  we  had  hung  up  on  B  knob  of  rock  our 
mackintosh  bag  containing  live  bottles  of  Kodier's  bad  wine  In 
the  morning,  although  the  stopper  appeared  to  have  been  in  all 
night,  about  four-fifths  had  evaporated.  It  was  strange;  my 
friends  had  not  taken  any,  neither  had  1,  and  the  guides  each 


OTA*  ix.  ON  DRYNESS  OF  THE  AIR,  191 

declared  that  they  had  not  seen  any  one  touch  the  bag,  In  i'act. 
it  was  clear  that  there  was  no  explanation  of  the  phenomenon, 
but  in  the  dryness  of  the  air.  Still  it  is  remarkable  that  the 
dryness  of  the  air  (or  the  evaporation  of  wine)  is  always  greatest 
when  a  stranger  is  in  one's  party.  The  dryness  caused  by  the 
presence  of  even  a  single  Chainounix  porter  is  sometimes  so  great 
that  not  four-fifths  but  the  entire  quantity  disappears.  For  a  time 
I  found  difficulty  in  combating  this  phenomenon,  but  at  last  dis- 
covered that  if  1  used  the  wine-flask  as  a  pillow  during  the  night, 
the  evaporation  was  completely  stopped. 

At  4  a.m.  we  moved  off  across  the  glacier  in  single  file  towards 
the  foot  of  a  great  gully,  which  led  from  the  upper  slopes  of  the 
Glacier  de  la  Bonne  Pierre,  to  the  lowest  point  in  the  ridge  that 
connects  the  Ecrins  with  the  mountain  called  Roche  Faurio, — 
cheered  by  Rodier,  who  now  returned  with  his  wraps  to  La 
Berarde.  This  gully  (or  couloir)  was  discovered  and  descended 
by  Mr.  Tuckett,  and  we  will  now  return  for  a  minute  to  the 
explorations  of  that  accomplished  mountaineer. 

In  the  year  1862  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  obtain  from  the 
D&pot  de  la  Guerre  at  Paris,  a  MS.  copy  of  the  then  unpublished 
sheet  189  of  the  map  of  France,  and,  with  it  in  hand,  he  swept 
backwards  and  forwards  across  the  central  Dauphine  Alps,  un- 
troubled by  the  doubts  as  to  the  identity  of  peaks,  which  had 
perplexed  Mr.  Macdonald  and  myself  in  18G1  ;  and,  enlightened 
by  it,  he  was  able  to  point  out  (which  he  did  in  the  fairest  manner) 
that  we  had  confounded  the  Ecrins  with  another  mountain — the 
Pic  Sans  Nom.  We  made  this  blunder  through  imperfect  know- 
ledge of  the  district  and  inaccurate  reports  of  the  natives,  but  it 
was  not  an  extraordinary  one,  considering  the  difficulty  that  there 
is  in  obtaining  from  any  except  the  very  highest  summits  a 
complete  view  of  this  intricate  group. 

The  situations  of  the  principal  summits  can  be  perceived  at  a 
glance  on  the  map  upon  page  ISO,  which  is  a  reproduction  of  a  por- 
tion of  sheet  1S9.     The  main  ridge  of  the  chain  runs,  at  this  part. 


192  SCRAMBLES   AMoXdST  THE   ALPS.  OBAP.IZ. 

nearly  north  ami  south.  Itoehe  Kaurio,  at  the  northern  extreme,  is 
-•7 1 « "»  metres,  or  1 2,1 02  feet,  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  lowest 
point  l>etween  that  moantain  and  the  Kn  ins  (the  Col  dee  Eorins)i8 
11,000  feet.  Ihe  ridge  again  lists,  and  passes  13,000  feet  in  the 
neighlwurhood  of  the  Eerins.  The  highest  summit  of  that  moant- 
ain (13,462  feet)  is,  however,  placed  a  little  to  the  east  of  and  off 
the  main  ridge.  It  then  again  falls,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Col 
de  la  Tempe  it  is,  perhaps,  below  11,000  feet;  but  immediately  to  the 
south  of  the  summit  of  that  pass,  there  is  upon  the  ridge  a  point 
which  has  been  determined  by  the  French  surveyors  to  be  12,323 
feet.  This  peak  is  without  a  name.  The  ridge  continues  to  gain 
height  as  we  come  to  the  south,  and  culminates  in  the  mountain 
which  the  French  surveyors  have  called  Sommet  de  l'Aile  Froide. 
On  the  spot  it  is  called,  very  commonly,  the  Alefroide. 

There  is  some  uncertainty  respecting  the  elevation  of  this  mount- 
ain.1 The  Frenchmen  give  3925  metres  (12,878)  as  its  highest 
point,  but  Mr.  Tuckett,  who  took  a  good  theodolite  to  the  top  of 
Mont  Pelvoux  (which  he  agreed  with  his  predecessors  had  an  eleva- 
tion of  12,973  feet),  found  that  the  summit  of  the  Alefroide  was 
elevated  above  his  station  4' ;  and  as  the  distance  between  the  two 
points  was  12,467  feet,  this  would  represent  a  difference  in  altitude 
of  5  metres  in  favour  of  the  Alefroide.  I  saw  this  mountain  from 
the  summit  of  Mont  Pelvoux  in  1861,  and  was  in  doubt  as  to 
which  of  the  two  was  the  higher,  and  in  1864,  from  the  summit 
of  the  Pointe  des  Eerins  (as  will  presently  be  related),  it  looked 
actually  loftier  than  Mont  Pelvoux.  I  have  therefore  little  doubt 
that  Mr.  Tuckett  was  right  in  believing  the  Alefroide  to  have  an 
elevation  of  about  13,000  feet,  instead  of  12,878,  as  determined  by 
the  French  surveyors. 

Mont  Pelvoux  is  to  the  east  of  the  Alefroide  and  off  the  main 
ridge,  and  the  l'ic  Sans  Nom  (12,845  feet)  is  placed  U'tween  these 
two  mountains.     The  latter  is  one  of  the  grandest  of  the  Dauphine* 

1  It  in  shewn  in  the  MgMTing  bdDg  p.  .'54.     It  has  several  ]>oints  nearly  equally 
elevated,  all  of  wliidi  •.•■mi  t><  be  ■op—Me.    One  of  them  mi  aaoended  in  1870. 


chap.  ix.     XEIGHBOURHOOB  OF  THE  POINTE  DES  ECRINS.      193 

peaks,  but  it  is  so  shut  in  by  the  other  mountains  that  it  is  seldom 
seen  except  from  ;i  distance,  and  then  is  usually  confounded  with 
tin-  neighbouring  summits.  Its  name  has  been  accidentally  omitted 
on  the  map,  but  its  situation  is  represented  by  the  large  patch 
of  rocks,  nearly  surrounded  by  glaciers,  that  is  seen  between  the 
words  Ailefroide  and  Mt.  Pelvoux. 

The  lowest  depression  on  the  main  ridge  to  the  south  of  the 
Alefroide  is  the  Col  du  Sele,  and  the  height  of  this  pass,  according 
to  Mr.  Tuckett,  is  10,834  feet.  The  ridge  soon  rises  again,  and,  a 
little  farther  to  the  south,  joins  another  ridge  running  nearly  east 
and  west.  To  a  mountain  at  the  junction  of  these  two  ridges  the 
Frenchmen  have  given  the  singular  name  Crete  des  Bceufs  Rouges  ! 
The  highest  point  hereabouts  is  11,332  feet ;  and  a  little  to  the  west 
there  is  another  peak  (Mont  Bans)  of  11,979  feet.  The  main  ridge 
runs  from  this  last-named  point,  in  a  north-westerly  direction,  to 
the  Cols  de  Says,  both  of  which  exceed  10,000  feet. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  general  elevation  of  this  main 
ridge  is  almost  equal  to  that  of  the  range  of  Mont  Blanc,  or  of  the 
central  Pennine  Alps ;  and  if  we  were  to  follow  it  out  more  com- 
pletely, or  to  follow  the  other  ridges  surrounding  it  or  radiating 
from  it,  we  should  find  that  there  is  a  remarkable  absence,  through- 
out the  entire  district,  of  low  gaps  and  depressions,  and  that  there 
are  an  extraordinary  number  of  peaks  of  medium  elevation.1  The 
difficulty  which  the  early  explorers  of  Dauphine  experienced  in 
identifying  peaks  very  much  arose  from  the  elevation  of  the  ridges 
in  general  being  more  uniform  than  is  commonly  the  case  in  the 
Alps,  and  the  consequent  facile  concealment  of  one  point  by 
another.  The  difficulty  was  enhanced  by  the  narrowness  and 
erratic  courses  of  the  valleys. 

The  possession  of  the  'advanced  copy'  of  sheet  189  of  the 
French  map  enabled  Mr.  Tuckett  to  grasp  most  of  what  I  have  just 

1  There  are  more  than  twenty  petkt  BZOeediog  12,000  feet,  and  thirty  others 
exceeding  11,000  feet,  within  the  district  bounded  hy  the  rivers  Roinanche,  Drac, 
and  Durance. 

2c 


194  S'7,'1  .)//;/./•>■   AMOXGST  THE   MPS.  CHAP.  ix. 

said,  and  much  inure;  and  lie  added,  in  1802,  three  interesting 
1  ..■- -■-  across  this  part  of  the  chain  to  tliose  already  known.  The 
first,  from  Ville  Vallouise  to  l.a  Bcrarde,  rid  the  village  of  (Manx, 
and  the  Glaciers  tin  Sele  and  de  la  Pilatte, — this  he  called  the  Col 
du  Seh';  the  second,  het ween  \'illc  Vallouise  and  Villard  d'Arene 
(on  the  Lautaret  road),  rid  Claux  and  the  Glaciers  Blanc  and 
d  Ai  sine, — the  Col  du  Glacier  Blanc;  and  the  third,  from  Vallouise 
to  La  Bcrarde,  rid  the  (llacier  Blanc,  the  Glacier  de  l'Encula,  and 
the  (i lacier  de  la   Bonne   Pierre, — the  Col  des   Kcrins. 

This  last  pass  was  discovered  accidentally.  Mr.  Tuckett  set  out 
intending  to  endeavour  to  ascend  the  Pointe  des  Ecrins,  hut  circum- 
stances were  against  him.  u  he  relates  in  the  following  words: — 
'Arrived  on  the  plateau  "  (of  the  Glacier  de  l'Encula),  "a  most 
striking  view  of  the  Kcrins  hurst  upon  us,  and  a  hasty  inspection 
encouraged  as  to  hope  that  its  ascent  would  be  practicable.  On 
the  sides  of  La  Berarde  and  the  Glacier  Noir  it  presents,  as  has 
been  already  stated,  the  most  precipitous  and  inaccessible  faces 
that  can  well  be  conceived;  but  in  the  direction  of  the  Glacier  de 
l'Encula,  as  the  upper  plateau  of  the  Glacier  Blanc  is  named  on 
the  French  map,  the  slopes  are  less  rapid,  and  immense  masses  of 
ndvd  and  sdracs  cover  it  nearly  to  the  summit." 

"  The  snow  was  in  very  bad  order,  and  as  we  sank  at  each  step 
above  the  knee,  it  soon  became  evident  that  our  prospects  of 
success  were  extremely  doubtful.  A  nearer  approach,  too,  dis- 
closed traces  of  fresh  avalanches,  and  after  much  deliberation  and 
a  careful  examination  through  the  telescope,  it  was  decided  that 
the  chances  in  our  favour  were  too  small  to  render  it  desirable  to 
waste  time  in  the  attempt.  ...  I  examined  the  map,  from 
which  I  perceived  that  the  glacier  seen  through  the  gap"  (in  the 
ridge  running  from  Roche  Faurio  to  the  Ecrins)  "  to  the  west,  at  a 
great  depth  below,  must  he  that  of  La  Bonne  Pierre;  and  if  a 
nt  to  its  head  was  practicable,  a  passage  might  probably  be 
effected  to  La  Berarde.  On  suggesting  to  Croz  and  Perm  that, 
though   ballled    by  the  state  of  the  snow  on   the   Kcrins.  we  might 


.■hap.  i.\.      FIRST  ATTEMPT  To  AS('EM)  THE  WL'IXS.  195 

still  achieve  something  of  interest  and  importance  by  discovering 
a  new  col,  they  both  heartily  assented,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
Perm  was  over  the  edge,  and  cutting  his  way  down  the  rather 
formidable  couloir"  etc.  etc.1 

This  was  the  couloir  at  the  foot  of  which  we  found  ourselves  at 
daybreak  on  the  25th  of  June  1864;  but  before  commencing  the 
relation  of  our  doings  upon  that  eventful  day,  I  must  recount  the 
experiences  of  Messrs.  Mathews  and  Bonney  in  1862. 

These  gentlemen,  with  the  two  Croz's,  attempted  the  ascent  of 
the  Ecrins  a  few  weeks  after  Mr.  Tuckett  had  inspected  the  mount- 
ain. On  August  26,  says  Mr.  Bonney,  "  we  pushed  on,  and  our 
hopes  each  moment  rose  higher  and  higher;  even  the  cautious 
Michel  committed  himself  so  far  as  to  cry,  'Ah,  malheureux 
Ecrins,  vous  serez  bientot  morts,'  as  we  addressed  ourselves  to  the 
last  slope  leading  up  to  the  foot  of  the  final  cone.  The  old 
proverb  about '  many  a  slip '  was,  however,  to  prove  true  on  this 
occasion.  Arrived  at  the  top  of  this  slope,  we  found  that  we  were 
cut  off  from  the  peak  by  a  formidable  bergschrund,  crossed  by  the 
rottenest  of  snow-bridges.  We  looked  to  the  right  and  to  the  left, 
to  see  whether  it  would  be  possible  to  get  on  either  arete  at  its 
extremity ;  but  instead  of  rising  directly  from  the  snow,  as  they 
appeared  to  do  from  below,  they  were  terminated  by  a  wall  of 
rock  some  forty  feet  high.  There  was  but  one  place  where  the 
bergschrund  was  narrow  enough  to  admit  of  crossing,  and  there  a 
cliff  of  ice  had  to  be  climbed,  and  then  a  path  to  be  cut  up  a  steep 
slope  of  snow,  before  the  arete  could  be  reached.  At  last,  after 
searching  in  vain  for  some  time,  Michel  bade  us  wait  a  little,  and 
started  off  to  explore  the  gap  separating  the  highest  peak  from  the 
snow-dome  on  the  right,  and  see  if  it  were  possible  to  ascend  the 
rocky  wall.  Presently  he  appeared,  evidently  climbing  with  dilli- 
culty,  and  at  last  stood  on  the  arete  itself.  Again  we  thought 
the  victory  was  won,  and  started  off  to  follow  him.  Suddenly  he 
called  to  us  to  halt,  and  turned  to  descend.     In  a  few  minutes  he 

1  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  i.,  pp.  166-67,  Dec.  1863. 


196  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  chap.  ix. 

Btopped.  After  a  Long  pause  he  shouted  to  his  brother,  saying  thai 
be  was  not  able  to  return  by  the  way  be  had  asoended.    Jean  was 

evidently  uneasy  iiltoul    him.  and   for  some  time  we  watehed   liini 

with  much  anxiety.  At  length  he  began  t<>  hew  out  steps  in  the 
snow  along  the  face  of  the  peak  towards  us.  dean  now  left  us, 
and,  making  for  the  ice-cliff  mentioned  above,  chopped  away  until, 
after  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  labour,  he  contrived,  somehow  or 
other,  to  worm  himself  ap  it,  and  began  to  cut  steps  to  meet  his 
brother.  Almost  every  step  appeared  to  be  cut  right  through  the 
snowy  crust  into  the  hard  ice  below,  and  an  incipient  stream  of 
snow  came  hissing  down  the  sides  of  the  peak  as  they  dug  it  away 
with  their  axes.  Michel  could  not  have  been  much  more  than 
100  yards  from  us,  and  yet  it  was  full  three-quarters  of  an  hour 
before  the  brothers  met.  This  done,  they  descended  carefully, 
burying  their  axe-heads  deep  in  the  snow  at  every  step. 

"  Michel's  account  was  that  he  had  reached  the  ante  with  great 
difficulty,  and  saw  that  it  was  practicable  for  some  distance,  in 
fact,  as  far  as  he  could  see ;  but  that  the  snow  was  in  a  most 
dangerous  condition,  being  very  incoherent  and  resting  on  hard 
ice;  that  when  he  began  to  descend  in  order  to  tell  us  this,  be 
found  the  rocks  so  smooth  and  slippery  that  return  was  impossible ; 
and  that  for  some  little  time  he  feared  that  he  should  not  be  able 
to  extricate  himself,  and  was  in  considerable  danger.  Of  course 
the  arete  could  have  been  reached  by  the  way  our  guides  had 
descended,  but  it  was  so  evident  that  their  judgment  was  against 
proceeding,  that  we  did  not  feel  justified  in  urging  them  on.  We 
had  seen  so  much  of  them  that  we  felt  sure  they  would  never 
hang  back  unless  there  was  real  danger,  and  so  we  gave  the  word 
for  retreating." l 

( >n  both  of  these  expeditions  there  was  fine  weather  and  plenty 
of  time.  On  each  occasion  the  parties  slept  out  at,  and  started 
bom,  a  considerable  elevation,  ami  arrived  at  the  base  of  the 
final  peak  of  the  Ecrins  early  in   the  day.  ami   with    plenty  of 

1  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  i.,  \t\\  72-73,  June  1863. 


chap.  ix.  A  NEAR  VIEW  OF  THE  ECRINS.  197 

superfluous  energy.  Guides  and  travellers  alike,  on  each  occasion, 
were  exceptional  men,  experienced  mountaineers,  who  had  proved 
their  skill  and  courage  on  numerous  antecedent  occasions,  and 
who  were  not  accustomed  to  turn  away  from  a  thing  merely 
because  it  was  difficult.  On  each  occasion  the  attempts  were 
abandoned  because  the  state  of  the  snow  on  and  below  the  final 
peak  was  such  that  avalanches  were  anticipated ;  and,  according 
to  the  judgment  of  those  who  were  concerned,  there  was  such 
an  amount  of  positive  danger  from  this  condition  of  things,  that 
it  was  unjustifiable  to  persevere. 

We  learnt  privately,  from  Messrs.  Mathews,  Bonney,  and 
Tuckett,  that  unless  the  snow  was  in  a  good  state  upon  the  final 
peak  (that  is  to  say,  coherent  and  stable),  we  should  probably  be  of 
the  same  opinion  as  themselves ;  and  that  although  the  face  of  the 
mountain  fronting  the  Glacier  de  l'Encula  was  much  less  steep 
than  its  other  faces,  and  was  apparently  the  only  side  upon  which 
an  attempt  was  at  all  likely  to  be  successful,  it  was,  nevertheless, 
so  steep,  that  for  several  days,  at  least,  after  a  fall  of  snow  upon 
it,  the  chances  in  favour  of  avalanches  would  be  considerable. 

The  reader  need  scarcely  be  told,  after  all  that  has  been  said 
about  the  variableness  of  weather  in  the  High  Alps,  the  chance 
was  small  indeed  that  we  should  find  upon  the  25th  of  June, 
or  any  other  set  day,  the  precise  condition  of  affairs  that  was 
deemed  indispensable  for  success.  We  had  such  confidence  in 
the  judgment  of  our  friends,  that  it  was  understood  amongst 
us  the  ascent  should  be  abandoned,  unless  the  conditions  were 
manifestly  favourable. 

By  five  minutes  to  six  we  were  at  the  top  of  the  gully  (a  first- 
rate  couloir,  about  1000  feet  high),  and  within  sight  of  our  work. 
Bard,  thin,  and  wedge-like  as  the  Ecrins  had  looked  from  afar, 
it  had  never  looked  so  hard  and  so  thin  as  it  did  when  we  emerged 
from  the  top  of  the  couloir  through  the  gap  in  the  ridge.  No 
tender  shadows  spoke  of  broad  and  rounded  ridges,  but  sharp 
and   shadowless  its   serrated   edges  stood  out   against  the   clear 


198 


SCRAMIILKS   AMnXUST  THE   A  LIS. 


CHAP.  IX. 


sky.  It  had  U>en  sai«l  that  the  route  must  In-  taken  by  one 
of  the  ridges  of  the  'final  peak,  but  both  were  alike  repellent, 
hacked  and  notched  in  numberless  places.  They  reminded  me  of 
my  failure  on  the  Dent  d'llerens  in  1808,  and  of  a  place  00  I 
similar  ridge,  from  which  advance  or  retreat  was  alike  difficult 
But,  presuming  one  or  other  of  these  ridges  or  aretes  was  practi- 


THE   POINTE   DES    ECR1NS,    FROM    THE  COL    DU   GALIBIER. 

cable,  there  remained  the  task  of  getting  to  them,  for  com- 
pletely round  the  base  of  the  final  peak  swept  an  enormous 
bergschrund,  almost  separating  it  from  the  slopes  which  lay 
l>eneath.  It  was  evident  thus  early  that  the  ascent  would  not 
be  accomplished  without  exertion,  and  that  it  would  demand 
all  our  faculties  and  all  our  time.  In  more  than  one  respect 
we  were  favoured.  The  mists  were  gone,  the  day  was  bright 
and  perfectly  calm;  there  had  been  a  long  stretch  of  fine  weather 
beforehand,   and   the   snow   was   in   excellent   order;    and,   must 


chap.  ix.     FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE  POINTE  DES  ECRINS.         199 

important  of  all,  the  last  new  snow  which  had  fallen  on  the 
final  peak,  unable  to  support  itself,  had  broken  away  and  rolled 
in  a  mighty  avalanche,  over  schrund,  neVe,  seracs,  over  hills  and 
valleys  in  the  glacier  (levelling  one  and  filling  the  other),  com- 
pletely down  to  the  col,  where  it  lay  in  huge  jammed  masses, 
powerless  to  harm  us ;  and  had  made  a  broad  track,  almost  a  road, 
over  which,  for  part  of  the  way  at  least,  we  might  advance  with 
rapidity. 

We  took  in  all  this  in  a  few  minutes,  and  seeing  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost,  despatched  a  hasty  meal,  left  knapsacks,  provisions, 
and  all  incumbrances  by  the  col,  started  again  at  half-past  six,  and 
made  direct  for  the  left  side  of  the  schrund,  for  it  was  there  alone 
that  a  passage  was  practicable.  We  crossed  it  at  8.10.  Our  route 
can  now  be  followed  upon  the  annexed  outline.  The  arrow  marked  D 
points  out  the  direction  of  the 
Glacier  de  la  Bonne  Pierre.  The 
ridge  in  front,  that  extends 
right  across,  is  the  ridge  that 
is  partially  shewn  on  the  top 
of  the  map  at  p.  189,  leading 
from   Eoche    Faurio   towards 

the  W.N.W.  We  arrived  upon  the  plateau  of  the  Glacier  de 
l'Encula,  behind  this  ridge,  from  the  direction  of  D,  and  then  made 
a  nearly  straight  track  to  the  left  hand  of  the  bergschrund  at  A. 

Thus  far  there  was  no  trouble,  but  the  nature  of  the  work 
changed  immediately.  If  we  regard  the  upper  700  feet  alone  of 
the  final  peak  of  the  Ecrins,  it  may  be  described  as  a  three-sided 
pyramid.  One  face  is  towards  the  Glacier  Noir,  and  forms  one  of 
the  sheerest  precipices  in  the  Alps.  Another  is  towards  the 
Glacier  du  Vallon,  and  is  less  steep,  and  less  uniform  in  angle  than 
the  first.  The  third  is  towards  the  Glacier  de  l'Encula,  and  it  was 
by  this  one  we  approached  the  summit.  Imagine  a  triangular 
plane,  700  or  800  feet  high,  set  at  an  angle  exceeding  50° ; 
let  it  be  smooth,  glassy  ;  let  the  uppermost  edges  be  cut  into  spikes 


200  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  A  I. is.  chak  iv 

and  teeth,  and  l«t  them  l>e  bent,  some  one  way,  snim-  another. 
Let   the  glassy   face  be  covered   with  minute    fragments   of  rook, 
scarcely  attached,  but  varnished  with  ice;  imagine  this,  and  then 
yon  will  have  a  very  faint  idea  of  the  face  of  the  Ecrins  on  which 
we  stood.     It  was  not  possible  to  avoid  detaching  stones,  which,  afl 
they  fell,  caused  words  unmentionable  to  rise.     The  greatest  friends 
would  have  reviled  each  other  in  such  a  situation.     We  gained  the 
eastern  arete,  and  endeavoured  for  half-an-hour  to  work  upwards 
towards  the  summit ;  but  it  was  useless  (each  yard  of  progress  cost 
an  incredible  time) ;  and  having  no  desire  to  form  the  acquaintance 
of  the  Glacier  Noir  in  a  precipitate  manner,  we  beat  a  retreat,  and 
returned  to  the  schrund.     We  again  held  a  council,. and  it  was 
unanimously  decided  that  we  should  be  beaten  if  we  could  not  cut 
along  the  upper  edge  of  the  schrund,  and,  when  nearly  beneath  the 
summit,  work  up  to  it.     So  Croz  took  off  his  coat  and  went  to 
work ; — on  ice, — not  that  black  ice  so  often  mentioned  and  so  seldom 
seen,  though  on  ice  as  hard  as  ice  could  be.     Weary  work  for  the 
guides.     Croz  cut  for  more  than  half-an-hour,  and  we  did  not  seem 
to  have  advanced  at  all.     Some  one  behind,  seeing  how  great  the 
labour  was,  and  how  slow  the  progress,  suggested  that  after  all  we 
might  do  better  on  the  arete.     Croz's  blood  was  up,  and  indignant 
at  tins  alight  on  his  powers,  he  ceased  working,  turned  in  his  steps, 
and  rushed  towards  me  with  a  haste  that  made  me  shudder :  "  I  -\ 
all  means  let  us  go  there,  the  sooner  the  better."     No  slight  was 
intended,  and  he  resumed  his  work,  after  a  time  being  relieved  by 
Aimer.     Half-past  ten  came ;  an  hour  had  passed  ;  they  were  still 
cutting.     Dreary  work   for  us,  for  no  capering  about  could  be 
done  here.     Hand   as   well   as   foot    holes   were  necessary;    the 
fingers  and  toes  got  very  cold  ;  the  ice,  as  it  boomed  in  bounding 
down  the  bergschrund,  was  very  suggestive ;  conversation  was  very 
restricted,  separated  as  we  were  by  our  tether  of  20  feet  apiece. 
Another  hour  passed.      We  were  now  almost  immediately  below  the 
summit,  and  we  stopped  to  look  up.     We  were  nearly  as  far  off  it 
(vertically)  as  we  had  been  more  than  three  hours  before.     The  day 


(SUP.  ix.  WE  GAIN  THE  SUMMIT.  201 

seemed  going  against  ns.  The  only  rocks  near  at  hand  were  scat- 
tered ;  no  bigger  than  tea-cups,  and  most  of  these,  we  found  after- 
wards, were  glazed  with  ice.  Time  forbade  cutting  right  up  to  the 
summit,  even  had  it  been  possible,  which  it  was  not.  We  decided 
to  go  up  to  the  ridge  again  by  means  of  the  rocks  ;  but  had  we  not 
had  a  certain  confidence  in  each  other,  it  unquestionably  would  not 
have  been  done ;  for  this,  it  must  be  understood,  was  a  situation 
where  not  only  might  a  slip  have  been  fatal  to  every  one,  but  it 
would  have  been  so  beyond  doubt :  nothing,  moreover,  was  easier 
than  to  make  one.  It  was  a  place  where  all  had  to  work  in  unison, 
where  there  must  be  no  slackening  of  the  rope,  and  no  undue 
tension.  For  another  hour  we  were  in  this  trying  situation,  and 
at  12.30  we  gained  the  arete  again,  at  a  much  higher  point  (b), 
close  to  the  summit.  Our  men  were,  I  am  afraid,  well-nigh  worn 
out.  Cutting  up  a  couloir  1000  feet  high  was  not  the  right  sort  of 
preparation  for  work  of  this  kind.  Be  it  so  or  not,  we  were  all 
glad  to  rest  for  a  short  time,  for  we  had  not  sat  down  a  minute 
since  leaving  the  col  six  hours  before.  Aimer,  however,  was  rest- 
less, knowing  that  mid-day  was  past,  and  that  much  remained  to 
be  accomplished,  and  untied  himself,  and  commenced  working 
towards  the  summit.  Connecting  the  teeth  of  rock  were  beds  of 
snow,  and  Aimer,  only  a  few  feet  from  me,  was  crossing  the  top  of 
one  of  these,  when  suddenly,  without  a  moment's  warning,  it  broke 
away  under  him,  and  plunged  down  on  to  the  glacier.  As  he 
staggered  for  a  second,  one  foot  in  the  act  of  stepping,  and  the 
other  on  the  falling  mass,  I  thought  him  lost ;  but  he  happily  fell 
on  to  the  right  side  and  stopped  himself.  Had  he  taken  the  step 
with  his  right  instead  of  the  left  foot,  he  would,  in  all  probability, 
have  fallen  several  hundred  feet  without  touching  anything,  and 
would  not  have  been  arrested  before  reaching  the  glacier,  a 
vertical  distance  of  at  least  3000  feet. 

Small,  ridiculously  small,  as  the  distance  was  to  the  summit,  we 
were  occupied  nearly  another  hour  before  it  was  gained.  Aimer 
was  a  few  feet  in  front,  and  he,  with  characteristic  modesty,  hesi- 

2D 


•>,,._> 


Si'liAMULKS   AMoXUST  THE   A  LI'S. 


CHAP,  iv 


tilted  t..  step  00  the  highest  point,  and  drew  hack  to  allow  us  to 
pass.  A  cry  was  raised  for  Croz,  who  had  dour  the  chief  pari  of 
the  work,  but  he  declined  the  honour,  and  we  marched  on  to  the 
top  simultaneously;  that  is  to  say,  clustered  round  it,  a  yard  <>r 
two  below,  for  it  was  much  too  small  to  get  upon. 

According  to  my  custom,  I  bagged  a  piece  from  off  the  highest 
rock  (chlorite  slate),  and  I  found  afterwards  that  it  had  a  striking 
similarity  to  the  final  peak  of  the  Ecrins.     I  have  noticed  the  same 

thing  on  other  occasions,1 
and  it  is  worthy  of  remark 
that  not  only  do  fragments 
of  such  rock  as  limestone 
often  present  the  character- 
istic forms  of  the  cliffs  from 
which  they  have  been  broken, 
but  that  morsels  of  mica  slate 
will  represent,  in  a  wonder- 
ful manner,  the  identical 
shape  of  the  peaks  of  which 
they  have  formed  part.  Why 
should  it  not  be  so,  if  the 
mountain's  mass  is  more  or 
less  homogeneous  ?  The  same 
causes  which  produce  the  small  forms  fashion  the  large  ones  ;  the 
same  influences  are  at  work ;  the  same  frost  and  rain  give  shape 
to  the  mass  as  well  as  to  its  parts. 

Did  space  permit  me,  I  could  give  a  very  poor  idea  of  the  view, 
but  it  will  be  readily  imagined  that  a  panorama  extending  over 
as  much  ground  as  the  whole  of  England  is  one  worth  taking 
some  trouble  to  see,  and  one  which  is  not  often  to  be  seen  even 
in  the  Alps.  No  clouds  obscured  it,  and  a  list  of  the  summits 
that  we  saw  would  include  nearly  all  the  highest  peaks  of  the 

1  The  most  remarkable  example  which  has  come  under  my  iioti<-<    i-  referred  to 
in  Chapter  XXI. 


FRAGMENT   FROM   THE  SUMMIT  OP  THE   POINTE 
DES    ECRINS 


chap.  ix.        LE  JEU  NE   VAUT  PAS  LA  CHANDELLE.  203 

chain.  I  saw  the  Pelvoux  now — as  I  had  seen  the  Ecrins  from 
it  three  years  before — across  the  basin  of  the  Glacier  Noir.  It 
is  a  splendid  mountain,  although  in  height  it  is  equalled,  if  not 
surpassed,  by  its  neighbour  the  Akifroide. 

We  could  stay  on  the  summit  only  a  short  time,  and  at  a 
quarter  to  two  prepared  for  the  descent.  Now,  as  we  looked  down, 
and  thought  of  what  we  had  passed  over  in  coming  up,  we  one 
and  all  hesitated  about  returning  the  same  way.  Moore  said,  no. 
Walker  said  the  same,  and  I  too;  the  guides  were  both  of  the 
same  mind:  this,  be  it  remarked,  although  we  had  considered 
that  there  was  no  chance  whatever  of  getting  up  any  other  way. 
But  those  '  last  rocks '  were  not  to  be  forgotten.  Had  they  only 
protruded  to  a  moderate  extent,  or  had  they  been  merely  glazed, 
we  should  doubtless  still  have  tried.  But  they  were  not  reason- 
able rocks, — they  would  neither  allow  us  to  hold,  nor  would  do  it 
themselves.  So  we  turned  to  the  western  arete,  trusting  to  luck 
that  we  should  find  a  way  down  to  the  schrund,  and  some  means 
of  getting  over  it  afterwards.  Our  faces  were  a  tolerable  index  to 
our  thoughts,  and  apparently  the  thoughts  of  the  party  were  not 
happy  ones.  Had  any  one  then  said  to  me,  "  You  are  a  great  fool 
for  coming  here,"  I  should  have  answered  with  humility,  "  It  is  too 
true."  And  had  my  monitor  gone  on  to  say,  "  Swear  you  will 
never  ascend  another  mountain  if  you  get  down  safely,"  I  am 
inclined  to  think  I  should  have  taken  the  oath.  In  fact,  the  game 
here  was  not  worth  the  risk.  The  guides  felt  it  as  well  as  our- 
selves, and  as  Aimer  led  off,  he  remarked,  with  more  piety  than 
logic,  "  The  good  God  has  brought  us  up,  and  he  will  take  us  down 
in  safety,"  which  shewed  pretty  well  what  he  was  thinking  about. 

The  ridge  down  which  we  now  endeavoured  to  make  our  way 
was  not  inferior  in  difficulty  to  the  other.  Both  were  serrated  to 
an  extent  that  made  it  impossible  to  keep  strictly  to  them,  and 
obliged  us  to  descend  occasionally  for  some  distance  on  the  north- 
ern face  and  then  mount  again.  Both  were  so  rotten  that  the 
most  experienced  of  our  party,  as  well  as  the  least,  continually 


204  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  A  LI'S.  chap,  in 

upset  bloeka  large  and  matt.     Both  ar6tea  wore  w  Barrow,  so 

tliin.  that   it   was  often  a  matter   i'<>r  speculation   on  which  Bide 
an  mutable  block  would  Gall 

At  one  point  it  seemed  that  we  should  he  obliged  to  return  to 
bhe  suniniit  and  try  the  other  way  down.  We  were  on  the  very 
edge  of  the  arete.  On  one  side  was  the  enormous  precipice  facing 
the  Pelvoux,  which  is  not  far  from  perpendicular ;  on  the  other  ■ 
slope  exceeding  50°.  A  deep  notch  brought  us  to  an  abrupt  halt. 
Aimer, who  was  leading,  advanced  cautiously  to  the  edge  on  hands 
and  knees,  and  peered  over;  his  care  was  by  no  means  unneces- 
for  the  rocks  had  broken  away  from  under  us  unexpectedly  several 
times.  In  this  position  he  gazed  down  for  some  moments,  and 
then,  without  a  word,  turned  his  head  and  looked  at  us.  His  face 
urn ij  have  expressed  apprehension  or  alarm,  but  it  certainly  did  not 
shew  hope  or  joy.  We  learned  that  there  was  no  means  of  getting 
down,  and  that  we  must,  if  we  wanted  to  pass  the  notch,  jump 
across  on  to  an  unstable  block  on  tbe  other  side.  It  was  decided 
that  it  should  be  done,  and  Aimer,  with  a  larger  extent  of  rope 
than  usual, jumped.  The  rock  swayed  as  he  came  down  upon  it. 
but  he  clutched  a  large  mass  with  both  arms  and  brought  himself 
to  anchor.  That  which  was  both  difficult  and  dangerous  for  the 
first  man  was  easy  enough  for  the  others,  and  we  got  across  with 
less  trouble  than  I  expected;  stimulated  by  Croz's  perfectly  just 
observation,  that  if  we  couldn't  get  across  there  we  were  not  likely 
to  get  down  the  other  way. 

We  had  now  arrived  at  C,  and  could  no  longer  continue  on  the 
arete,  so  we  commenced  descending  the  lace  again.  Before  long  we 
were  close  to  the  schrund,  but  unable  to  see  what  it  was  like  at 
this  part,  as  the  upper  edge  bent  over.  Two  hours  had  already 
d  since  leaving  the  summit.,  and  it  began  to  be  highly  probable 
that  we  should  have  to  spend  a  night  00  I  he  <  flacier  lilaiie.  Aimer, 
who  yet  led,  cut  steps  right  down  to  the  edge,  hut  still  he  could  not 

eee  below.    Therefore,  warning  us  to  hold  tight,  he  made  his  whole 

body  rigid,  and  (standing  in  the  large  step  which   he  bad  cut  for 


chap.  ix.         DESCENT  OF  THE  POINTE  DES  ECRINS.  205 

the  purpose),  had  the  upper  part  of  his  person  lowered  out  until  he 
saw  what  he  wanted.  He  shouted  that  our  work  was  finished, 
made  me  come  close  to  the  edge  and  untie  myself,  advanced  the 
others  until  he  had  rope  enough,  and  then  with  a  loud  jodcl  jumped 
down  on  to  soft  snow.  Partly  by  skill  and  partly  by  luck  he  had 
hit  the  crevasse  at  its  easiest  point,  and  we  had  only  to  make  a 
downward  jump  of  eight  or  ten  feet. 

We  had  been  more  than  eight  hours  and  a  half  accomplishing 
the  ascent  of  the  final  peak,  which,  according  to  an  observation  by 
Mr.  Bonney  in  1862,  is  only  525  feet  high.1  During  this  period 
we  had  not  stopped  for  more  than  half-an-hour,  and  our  nerves  and 
muscles  had  l)een  kept  at  the  highest  degree  of  tension  the  whole 
time.  It  may  be  imagined  that  we  accepted  the  ordinary  conditions 
of  glacier  travelling  as  an  agreeable  relief,  and  that  that  which  at 
another  time  might  have  seemed  formidable  we  treated  as  the  veriest 
bagatelle.  Late  in  the  day  as  it  was,  and  soft  as  was  the  snow,  we 
put  on  such  pace  that  we  reached  the  Col  des  Ecrins  in  less  than 
forty  minutes.  We  lost  no  time  h\  arranging  our  baggage,  for  we 
had  still  to  traverse  a  long  glacier,  and  to  get  clear  of  two  ice-falls 
before  it  was  dark ;  so,  at  5.35  we  resumed  the  march,  adjourning 
eating  and  drinking,  and  put  on  a  spurt  which  took  us  clear  of  the 
Glacier  Blanc  by  7. 45  p.m.2  We  got  off  the  moraine  of  the  Glacier 
Noir  at  8.45,  just  as  the  last  remnant  of  daylight  vanished.  Croz 
and  myself  were  a  trifle  in  advance  of  the  others,  and  fortunately 
so  for  us ;  for  as  they  were  about  to  commence  the  descent  of  the 
snout  of  the  glacier,  the  whole  of  the  moraine  that  rested  on  its 
face  peeled  off,  and  came  down  with  a  tremendous  roar. 

We  had  now  the  pleasure  of  walking  over  a  plain  that  is 
known  by  the  name  of  the  Yr6  de  Madame  Carle,  covered  with 
pebbles  of  all  sizes,  and  intersected  by  numerous  small  streams 

1  See  vol.  i.  p.  73  of  Alpine  Journal.  We  considered  the  height  assigned  to  the 
final  peak  by  Mr.  Bonney  was  too  small,  and  thought  it  should  have  been  al>out  200 
feet  more. 

8  The  Glacier  Blanc  is  in  tho  direction  indicated  by  the  arrow  l>elow  the  letter  E 
on  the  outline  on  p.  199. 


206  SCItA  MULES  AM  THE  ALPS.  chap.  ix. 

or  torrents.  Every  hole  looked  like  a  stone,  every  stone  like  a 
hole,  and  we  tumbled  about  from  side  to  side  until  our  limbs  and 
our  tampon  became  thoroughly  jaded.  My  companions,  being 
both  abort  righted,  found  the  travelling  especially  disagreeable;  so 
there  was  little  wonder  that  when  we  came  upon  a  huge  mass 
of  rock  as  big  as  a  house,  which  had  fallen  from  the  flanks  of 
Pelvoux,  a  regular  cube  that  offered  no  shelter  whatever,  Moore 
cried  out  in  ecstasy,  "  Oh,  how  delightful !  the  very  thing  I  have 
been  longing  for.  Let  us  have  a  perfectly  extemporaneous 
bivouac."  This,  it  should  be  said,  was  when  the  night  threatened 
thunder  and  lightning,  rain,  and  all  other  delights. 

The  pleasures  of  a  perfectly  extemporaneous  bivouac  under  these 
circumstances  not  being  novelties  to  Croz  and  myself,  we  thought 
we  would  tiy  for  the  miseries  of  a  roof ;  but  Walker  and  Aimer,  with 
their  usual  good-nature,  declared  it  was  the  very  thing  that  they, 
too,  were  longing  for ;  so  the  trio  resolved  to  stop.  We  generously 
left  them  all  the  provisions  (a  dozen  cubic  inches  or  thereabouts  of 
bacon  fat,  and  half  a  candle),  and  pushed  on  for  the  chalets  of  Ale- 
froide,  or  at  least  we  thought  we  did,  but  could  not  be  certain.  In 
the  course  of  half-an-hour  we  got  uncommonly  close  to  the  main 
torrent,  and  Croz  all  at  once  disappeared.  I  stepped  cautiously  for- 
ward to  peer  down  into  the  place  where  I  thought  he  was,  and 
quietly  tumbled  head  over  heels  into  a  big  bush.  Extricating 
myself  with  some  trouble,  I  fell  backwards  over  some  rocks,  and 
got  wedged  in  a  cleft  so  close  to  the  torrent  that  it  splashed  all 
over  me. 

The  colloquy  which  then  ensued  amid  the  thundering  <>l  the 
stream  was  as  follows: — 

"  Hullo,  Croz ! "  "  Eh,  Monsieur."  "  Where  are  you  ? "  "  Here, 
Monsieur."  "  Where  is  here  ? "  "I  don't  know ;  where  are  you  ? " 
"  Here,  Croz ; "  and  so  on. 

The  fact  was,  from  the  intense  darkness,  and  the  noise  of  the 
torrent,  we  had  no  idea  of  each  other's  situation.  In  the  course  of 
ten  minutes,  however,  we  joined  together  again,  agreed  we  had 


OHAP.  IX. 


THE  PLEASURES  OF  MEMORY. 


■iu- 


had  quite  enougli  of  that  kind  of  thing,  and  adjourned  to  a  most 
eligible  rock  at  10.15. 

How  well  I  remember  the  night  at  that  rock,  and  the  jolly  way 
in  which  Croz  came  out!  We  were  both  very  wet  about  the  legs, 
and  both  uncommonly  hungry,  but  the  time  passed  pleasantly 


A    NIGHT   WITH    CROZ. 


enougli  round  our  fire  of  juniper,  and  until  long  past  midnight  we 
sat  up  recounting*  over  our  pipes,  wonderful  stories  of  the  most 
incredible  description,  in  which,  I  must  admit,  my  companion  beat 
me  hollow.  Then,  throwing  ourselves  on  our  beds  of  rhododendron, 
we  slept  an  untroubled  sleep,  and  rose  on  a  bright  Sunday  morning 
as  fresh  as  might  be,  intending  to  enjoy  a  day's  rest  and  luxury 
with  our  friends  at  La  Ville  de  Val  Louise. 

I  have  failed  to  give  the  impression  I  wish  if  it  has  not  been 
made  evident  that  the  ascent  of  the  Pointe  des  Ecrins  was  not  an 
ordinary  piece  of  work.     There  is  an  increasing  disposition  nowa- 


:ios  SfliAMllLKS  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  0BAP.  DC 

unongsl  those  \n1h»  write  on  the  Alps,  t<>  underrate  the  diffi- 
culties and  dangers  which  arc  met  with,  and  this  disposition  is  I 
think,  not  loss  mischievous  than  the  nld-fashinned  style  of  making 
era vthing  terrible.  Difficult  as  we  found  the  peak,  I  believe  we 
took  it  ut  the  best,  perhaps  the  only  possible,  time  of  the  year, 
The  great  slope  on  which  we  spent  so  much  time  was,  from  being 
denuded  by  the  avalanche  of  which  I  have  spoken,  deprived  of  its 
greatest  danger.  Had  it  had  the  snow  still  resting  upon  it,  and 
had  we  persevered  with  the  expedition,  we  should  almost  without 
doubt  have  ended  with  calamity  instead  of  success.  The  ice  of  that 
slope  is  always  below,  its  angle  is  severe,  and  the  rocks  do  not  pro- 
trude sufficiently  to  afford  the  support  that  snow  requires,  to  be 
stable,  when  at  a  great  angle.  So  far  am  I  from  desiring  to  tempt 
any  one  to  repeat  the  expedition,  that  I  put  it  on  record  as  my  belief, 
however  sad  and  however  miserable  a  man  may  have  been,  if  he  is 
found  on  the  summit  of  the  Pointe  des  Ecrins  after  a  fall  of  new 
snow,  he  is  likely  to  experience  misery  far  deeper  than  anything 
with  which  he  has  hitherto  been  acquainted.1 

1  The  second  ascent  of  the  Pointe  des  Ecrins  was  made  by  a  From  h  gentleman, 
named  Vincent,  with  the  Chamounix  guides  Jean  Carrier  and  Alexandre  Tournici ■. 
They  followed  our  route,  but  reversed  it ;  that  is  to  say,  ascended  by  the -western 
and  descended  by  the  eastern  arete. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ON  THE  FIRST   PASSAGE   OF  THE   COL   DE   PILATTE. 
"How  pleasant  it  is  for  him  who  is  saved  to  remember  his  danger." 

EUKIl'IDES. 

From  Ailefroide  to  Claux,  but  for  the  path,  travel  would  be  scarcely 
more  easy  than  over  the  Pr<$  de  Madame  Carle.1  The  valley  is 
strewn  with  immense  masses  of  gneiss,  from  the  size  of  a  large 
house  downwards,  and  it  is  only  occasionally  that  rock  in  situ  is 
seen,  so  covered  up  is  it  by  the  debris,  which  seems  to  have  been 
derived  almost  entirely  from  the  neighbouring  cliffs.2 

It  was  Sunday,  a  "  day  most  calm  and  bright."  Golden  sun- 
light had  dispersed  the  clouds,  and  was  glorifying  the  heights, 
and  we  forgot  hunger  through  the  brilliancy  of  the  morning  and 
beauty  of  the  mountains. 

We  meant  the  26th  to  be  a  day  of  rest,  but  it  was  little  that  we 
found  in  the  cabaret  of  Claude  Giraud,  and  we  fled  before  the  babel 
of  sound  which  rose  in  intensity  as  men  descended  to  a  depth  which 
is  unattainable  by  the  beasts  of  the  field,  and  found  at  the  chalets 
of  Entraigues3  the  peace  that  had  been  denied  to  us  at  Val  Louise. 

1  For  route,  see  map  on  page  189. 

2  About  half-a-mile  above  Claux  there  is  a  precipitous  fall  in  the  valley,  and 
there  (where  the  bed  rock  is  too  steep  to  allow  debris  to  accumulate)  roehes  mouton- 
ntes  can  be  seen.  At  the  same  place  the  torrent  of  Aile  Froide  falls  by  some  steep 
rapids  through  a  wall-sided  gorge,  and  the  former  eddyings  of  the  water  can  be 
traced  high  up  upon  the  cliffs. 

8  The  path  from  Ville  de  Val  Louise  to  Entraigues  is  good,  and  well  shaded  by 
luxuriant  foliage.  The  valley  (d'Entraigues)  is  narrow  ;  bordered  by  fine  cliffs  ;  and 
closed  at  its  western  end  by  a  noble  block  of  mountains,  which  looks  much  higher 

2  E 


110  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  ohap.  x. 

\   .1111    we    were    received    with    the    most    eordial    hospital  it  \ . 

Everything  that  was  eatable  or  drinkable  waa  brought  out  ami 

d  upon  us;  every  little  curiosity  was  exhibited;  every  in- 
formation tliat  could  be  afforded  was  given:  ami  when  we  retired 
to  our  clean  straw,  we  again  congratulated  each  other  that  we  had 
escaped  from  a  tend  den,  and  had  cast  in  our  lot  with  those  who 
dwell  in  chalets.  Very  luxurious  that  straw  seemed  alter  two 
nights  upon  quartz  pebbles  and  glacier  mud,  and  I  felt  quite 
aggrieved  (expecting  it  was  the  summons  for  departure)  when 
about  midnight,  the  heavy  wooden  door  creaked  on  its  hinges, 
and  a  man  liein'd  and  had  to  attract  attention;  but  when  he 
whispered,  "Monsieur  Edvard,"  I  perceived  my  mistake, — it 
was  our  Pelvoux  companion,  Monsieur  Jean  Reyimud,  the 
excellent  ayent-voyer  of  La  Bessee. 

Monsieur  Reynaud  had  been  invited  to  accompany  us  on  the 
excursion  that  is  described  in  this  chapter,  but  had  arrived  at  Val 
Louise  after  we  had  left,  and  had  energetically  pursued  us  during 
the  night.  Our  idea  was  that  a  pass  might  be  made  over  tin 
high  ridge  called  (on  the  French  map)  Crete  de  Bo^ufs  Rouges,1 
near  to  the  peak  named  Les  Bans,  and  that  it  might  be  the  shortest 
route  in  time  (as  it  certainly  would  be  in  distance)  from  Val 
Louise,  across  the  Central  Dauphine  Alps.  We  had  seen  the 
northern  (or  Pilatte)  side  from  the  Breche  de  la  Meije,  and  it 
seemed  to  be  practicable  at  one  place  near  Les  Hans.  More  than 
that  could  not  be  told  at  a  distance  of  eleven  miles.     We  intended 


than  it  is.     The  highest  jioiiit  (the  Pic  de  Bonvoisin)  is  11,500  feet.     Potatoes 

and  other  vegetables,  are  grown  at  Eutraigues  (5284  feet),  although  the  situation 

of  the  chalets  is  bleak,  and  cut  off  from  the  sun. 

The  Combe  (or  Vallon)  de  la  Selle  joins  the  main  valley  at  Entraiguea,  and  out 
can  jiass  from  the  former  by  the  little-known  Col  de  Loup  (immediately  t<>  1 1 1 *-  M.utli 
<»t  tin-  Pie  de  BotivoLsiii)  into  the  Val  Godemar.  Two  other  passes,  both  •>(  oon* 
siderable  height,  lead  from  the  head  of  the  Vallon  de  la  Selle  into  the  valleys 
of  Champoleou  and  Argent: 

1  Tins,  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. 


CHAr.  x.  THE  COL  DE  PILATTE.  211 

to  try  to  hit  a  point  on  the  ridge  immediately  above  the  part 
where  it  seemed  to  be  easiest. 

We  left  Entraigues  at  3.30  on  the  morning  of  June  27,  and 
proceeded,  over  very  gently-inclined  ground,  towards  the  foot  of 
the  Pic  de  Bonvoisin  (following  in  fact  the  route  of  the  Col  de 
Stellar,  which  leads  from  the  Val  Louise  into  the  Val  Godemar) ; ' 
and  at  5  A.M.,  finding  that  there  was  no  chance  of  obtaining  a  view 
(nun  the  bottom  of  the  valley  of  the  ridge  over  which  our  route 
was  to  be  taken,  sent  Aimer  up  the  lower  slopes  of  the  Bonvoisin 
to  reconnoitre.  He  telegraphed  that  we  might  proceed ;  and  at 
5.45  we  quitted  the  snow -beds  at  the  bottom  of  the  valley  for 
the  slopes  which  rose  towards  the  north. 

The  course  was  N.N.W.,  and  was  prodigiously  steep.  In  less  than 
two  miles'  difference  of  latitude  vie  rose  one  mile  of  absolute  height. 
But  the  route  was  so  far  from  being  an  exceptionally  difficult  one, 
that  at  10.45  we  stood  on  the  summit  of  the  pass,  having  made  an 
ascent  of  more  than  5000  feet  in  five  hours,  inclusive  of  halts. 

Upon  sheet  189  of  the  French  map  a  glacier  is  laid  down  on 
the  south  of  the  Crete  des  Bceufs  Rouges,  extending  along  the 
entire  length  of  the  ridge,  at  its  foot,  from  east  to  west.  In  1864 
this  glacier  did  not  exist  as  one  glacier,  but  in  the  place  where  it 
should  have  been  there  were  several  small  ones,  all  of  which  were, 
I  believe,  separated  from  each  other.2 

We  commenced  the  ascent  from  the  Val  d'Entraigues,  to  the 
west  of  the  most  western  of  these  small  glaciers,  and  quitted  the 
valley  by  the  first  great  gap  in  its  cliffs  after  that  glacier  was 
passed.  We  did  not  take  to  the  ice  until  it  afforded  an  easier  route 
than  the  rocks;  then  (8.30)  Croz  went  to  the  front,  and  led  with 

1  The  height  of  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. 

8  See  map  on  p.  189.  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  Dauphine  (as  throughout  the  Alps  generally)  have  shrunk  very 
eonsiderably.  A  notable  diminution  took  place  in  their  size  in  1869,  which  WM 
attributed  by  the  natives  to  tho  very  heavy  rains  of  that  year. 


■2\2 


Sf  /,». I  M /;/./•>•   AMOXGST  THE  ALPS. 


CHAP.  X. 


admirable  skill  through  a 
maze  of  crevasses  up  to 
th>'  foot  of  a  great  mow 
couloir,  that  rose  from  the 
head  of  the  glacier  to  the 
summit  of  the  ridge  over 
which  W8  had  to  pass. 

We  had  settled  before- 
hand in  London,  without 
knowing  anything  what- 
ever about  the  place,  that 
such  a  couloir  as  this 
should  be  in  this  angle ; 
but  when  we  got  into 
the  Val  d'Entraigues,  and 
found  that  it  was  not  pos- 
sible to  see  into  the  cor- 
ner, our  faith  in  its  exist- 
ence became  less  and  less, 
until  the  telegraphing  of 
Aimer,  who  was  sent  up  the 
opposite  slopes  to  search 
for  it,  assured  us  that  we 
were  true  prophets. 

Snow  couloirs  are  no- 
thing more   or   less  than 


A   SNOW   COULOIR. 


chap.  x.  ON  SNOW  COULOIRS.  213 

gullies  partly  filled  by  snow.  They  are  most  useful  institutions, 
and  may  be  considered  as  natural  highways  placed,  by  a  kind  Pro- 
vidence, in  convenient  situations  for  getting  over  places  which 
would  otherwise  be  inaccessible.  They  are  a  joy  to  the  mount- 
aineer, and,  from  afar,  assure  him  of  a  path  when  all  beside  is 
uncertain ;  but  they  are  grief  to  novices,  who,  when  upon  steep 
snow,  are  usually  seized  with  two  notions — first,  that  the  snow  will 
slip,  and  secondly,  that  those  who  are  upon  it  must  slip  too. 

Nothing,  perhaps,  could  look  much  more  unpromising  to  those 
who  do  not  know  the  virtues  of  couloirs  than  such  a  place  as  the 
engraving  represents,1  and  if  persons  inexperienced  in  mountain 
craft  had  occasion  to  cross  a  ridge  or  to  climb  rocks,  in  which 
there  were  such  couloirs,  they  would  instinctively  avoid  them. 
But  practised  mountaineers  would  naturally  look  to  them  for  a 
path,  and  would  follow  them  almost  as  a  matter  of  course,  unless 
they  turned  out  to  be  filled  with  ice,  or  too  much  swept  by  falling 
stones,  or  the  rock  at  the  sides  proved  to  be  of  such  an  exceptional 
character  as  to  afford  an  easier  path  than  the  snow. 

Couloirs  look  prodigiously  steep  when  seen  from  the  front,  and, 
so  viewed,  it  is  impossible  to  be  certain  of  their  inclination  within 
many  degrees.  Snow,  however,  does  actually  lie  at  steeper  angles 
in  couloirs  than  in  any  other  situations ; — 45  to  50  degrees  is  not 
an  uncommon  inclination.  Even  at  such  angles,  two  men  with 
proper  axes  can  mount  on  snow  at  the  rate  of  700  to  800  feet  per 
hour.  The  same  amount  can  only  be  accomplished  in  the  same 
time  on  steep  rocks  when  they  are  of  the  very  easiest  character, 
and  four  or  five  hours  may  be  readily  spent  upon  an  equal  height 
of  difficult  rocks.  Snow  couloirs  are  therefore  to  be  commended 
because  they  economise  time. 

Of  course,  in  all  gullies,  one  is  liable  to  be  encountered  by  fall- 
ing stones.     Most  of  those  which  fall  from  the  rocks  of  a  couloir, 

1  This  drawing  was  made  to  illustrate  the  remarks  which  follow.  It  does  not 
represent  any  particular  couloir,  hut  it  would  serve,  tolerahly  well,  as  a  |>ortrait 
of  the  one  which  we  ascended  when  crossing  the  Col  de  Pilatte. 


214  SCKAMllLES  AM0NQ8T  THE  ALPS.  chai-.  x. 

BOOOOr  "i-  later  spiii  down  the  simw  which  (ills  the  trough  ;  ami,  as 
their  course  and  pace  are  more  clearly  apparent  when  foiling 
now  than  when  jumping  from  ledge  to  ledge,  persons  with  lively 
imaginations  are  readily  impressed  by  them.  The  grooves  which 
are  usually  seen  wandering  down  the  length  of  snow  couloirs  are 
deepened  (and,  perhaps,  occasionally  originated)  by  falling  stones, 
and  they  are  sometimes  pointed  out  by  cautious  men  as  reasons 
why  couloirs  should  not  be  followed.  I  think  they  are  very  fre- 
quently only  gutters,  caused  by  water  trickling  off  the  rocks. 
Whether  this  is  so  or  not,  one  should  always  consider  the  possi- 
bility of  l)eing  struck  by  falling  stones,  and,  in  order  to  lessen  the 
risk  as  far  as  possible,  should  mount  upon  the  sides  of  the  snow, 
and  not  up  its  centre.  Stones  that  come  off  the  rocks  then  fly  over 
one's  head,  or  bound  down  the  middle  of  the  trough  at  a  safe  distance. 

At  9.30  a.m.  we  commenced  the  ascent  of  the  couloir  leading 
from  the  nameless  glacier  to  a  point  in  the  ridge,  just  to  the  east 
of  Mont  Bans.1  So  far  the  route  had  been  nothing  more  than  a 
steep  grind  in  an  angle  where  little  could  be  seen,  but  now  views 
opened  out  in  several  directions,  and  the  way  began  to  be  inter- 
esting. It  was  more  so,  perhaps,  to  us  than  to  our  companion 
M.  lieynaud,  who  had  no  rest  in  the  last  night.  He  wras,  moreover, 
heavily  laden.  Science  was  to  be  regarded — his  pockets  were 
stuffed  with  books ;  heights  and  angles  were  to  be  observed — his 
knapsack  was  filled  with  instruments;  hunger  was  to  be  guarded 
against — his  shoulders  were  ornamented  with  a  huge  nimbus  of 
bread,  and  a  leg  of  mutton  swung  behind  from  his  knapsack,  look- 
ing like  an  overgrown  tail.  Like  a  good-hearted  fellow,  be  had 
brought  this  food,  thinking  we  might  be  in  need  of  it.  As  it  hap- 
pened, we  were  well  provided  for,  and  having  our  own  pack-  to 
carry,  could  not  relieve  him  of  his  superfluous  burdens,  which, 
naturally,  he  did  not  like  to  throw  away.     As  the  angles  steepened, 

1  Tin-  upper  put  of  tin- southern  side  of  the  Col  <!<•  POatto,  and  the  small  »1 
■pokan  of  OB  p.  211,  can  \»-  seen  from  the  high  road  leading  from  Briancon  to  M<>nt 
DaapUa,  batWOOU  the  12th  and  13th  kilometre  stones  (from  Brianemi). 


OHAP.  x.  MONSIEUR  RE  YNA  I  l>.  1 1  B 

the  strain  on  his  strength  became  more  and  more  apparent.  At 
last  he  began  to  groan.  At  first  a  most  gentle  and  mellow  groan  ; 
but  as  we  rose  so  did  his  groans,  till  at  last  the  cliffs  were  groaning 
in  echo,  and  we  were  moved  to  laughter. 

Croz  cut  the  way  with  unflagging  energy  throughout  the  whole 
of  the  ascent,  and  at  10.45  we  stood  on  the  summit  of  our  pass, 
intending  to  refresh  ourselves  with  a  good  halt ;  but  just  at  that 
moment  a  mist,  which  had  been  playing  about  the  ridge,  swooped 
down  and  blotted  out  the  whole  of  the  view  on  the  northern  side. 
Croz  was  the  only  one  who  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  descent,  and  it 
was  deemed  advisable  to  push  on  immediately,  while  its  recollection 
was  fresh  in  his  memory.  We  are  consequently  unable  to  tell 
anything  about  the  summit  of  the  pass,  except  that  it  lies  imme- 
diately to  the  east  of  Mont  Bans,  and  is  elevated  about  11,300  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  It  is  one  of  the  highest  passes  in 
Dauphine.     We  called  it  the  Col  de  Pilatte. 

We  commenced  to  descend  towards  the  Glacier  de  Pilatte  by  a 
slope  of  smooth  ice,  the  face  of  which,  according  to  the  measure- 
ment of  Mr.  Moore,  had  an  inclination  of  54° !  Croz  still  led,  and 
the  others  followed  at  intervals  of  about  15  feet,  all  being  tied 
together,  and  Aimer  occupying  the  responsible  position  of  last 
man :  the  two  guides  were  therefore  about  70  feet  apart.  They 
were  quite  invisible  to  each  other  from  the  mist,  and  looked  spectral 
even  to  us.  But  the  strong  man  could  be  heard  by  all  hewing  out 
the  steps  below,  while  every  now  and  then  the  voice  of  the  steady 
man  pierced  the  cloud, — "  Slip  not,  dear  sirs ;  place  well  your  feet ; 
stir  not  until  you  are  certain." 

For  three-quarters  of  an  hour  we  progressed  in  this  fashion. 
The  axe  of  Croz  all  at  once  stopped.  "  What  is  the  matter,  Croz  ?  " 
"  Bergschrund,  gentlemen."  "Can  we  get  over?"  "Upon  my 
word,  I  don't  know;  I  think  we  must  jump."  The  clouds  rolled 
away  right  and  left  as  he  spoke.  The  effect  was  dramatic !  It  was 
a  coup  de  thMtre,  preparatory  to  the  '  great  sensation  leap '  which 
was  about  to  be  executed  by  the  entire  company. 


:!!»;  90RAMBLB8  AMONGST  THE  AUs  okap.  \. 

Sonic  unseen  cause,  some  cliff  or  obstruction  in  the  i 
underneath,  had  caused  our  wall  <>l  ioe  to  split  into  two  portions, 
and  the  huge  fissure  which  had  thus  been  formed  extended,  on 
each  hand,  as  far  as  could  be  seen.  We,  on  the  slope  above, 
were  separated  I'mm  the  slope  below  by  a  mighty  crevasse.  X<> 
running  up  and  down  to  look  for  an  easier  place  to  cross  could 
be  done  on  an  ice-slope  of  54° ;  the  chasm  had  to  be  passed  then 
and  there. 

A  downward  jump  of  15  or  16  feet,  and  a  forward  leap  of  7  or 
8  feet  had  to  be  made  at  the  same  time.  That  is  not  much,  you 
will  say.  It  was  not  much.  It  was  not  the  quantity,  but  it  was 
the  quality  of  the  jump  which  gave  to  it  its  particular  flavour.  You 
had  to  hit  a  narrow  ridge  of  ice.  If  that  was  passed,  it  seemed  as 
if  you  might  roll  down  for  ever  and  ever.  If  it  was  not  attained, 
you  dropped  into  the  crevasse  below,  which,  although  partly 
choked  by  icicles  and  snow  that  had  fallen  from  above,  was  still 
gaping  in  many  places,  ready  to  receive  an  erratic  body. 

Croz  untied  Walker  in  order  to  get  rope  enough,  and  warning 
us  to  hold  fast,  sprang  over  the  chasm.  He  alighted  cleverly  on 
his  feet ;  untied  himself  and  sent  up  the  rope  to  Walker,  who  fol- 
lowed his  example.  It  was  then  my  turn,  and  I  advanced  to  the 
edge  of  the  ice.  The  second  which  followed  was  what  is  called  a 
supreme  moment.  That  is  to  say,  I  felt  supremely  ridiculous. 
The  world  seemed  to  revolve  at  a  frightful  pace,  and  my  stomach 
to  fly  away.  The  next  moment  I  found  myself  sprawling  in  the 
snow,  and  then,  of  course,  vowed  that  it  was  nothing,  and  prepared 
to  encourage  my  friend  Reynaud. 

He  came  to  the  edge  and  made  declarations.  I  do  not  believe 
that  he  was  a  whit  more  reluctant  to  pass  the  place  than  we 
others,  but  he  was  infinitely  more  demonstrative, — in  a  word.  1  it- 
was  French.  He  wrung  his  hands,  "  Oh !  what  a  diable  of  a 
place!"  "It  is  nothing,  Reynaud,"  I  said,  "it  is  nothing.*1 
"Jump,"  cried  the  others,  "jump."  But  he  turned  round,  as  far 
as  one  can  do  such  a  thing  in  an  ice-step,  and  covered  his  face 


"WE  SAW  A  TOE  •  IT  SEEMED  TO  BELONG  TO  MOORE  -  WE  SAW  REYNAUO  A  FLYINC  BODY." 


chap.  x.         REYNAUD  COMES  OVER  THE  SCHRUND.  217 

with  his  hands,  ejaculating,  "  Upon  my  word,  it  is  not  possible. 
No!  no!!  tiotW  it  is  not  possible." 

How  he  came  over  I  scarcely  know.  We  saw  a  toe — it  seemed 
to  belong  to  Moore ;  we  saw  Eeynaud  a  flying  body,  coming  down 
as  if  taking  a  header  into  water ;  with  arms  and  legs  all  abroad, 
his  leg  of.  mutton  flying  in  the  air,  his  baton  escaped  from  his 
grasp;  and  then  we  heard  a  thud  as  if  a  bundle  of  carpets  had 
been  pitched  out  of  a  window.  When  set  upon  his  feet  he  was 
a  sorry  spectacle ;  his  head  was  a  great  snowball ;  brandy  was 
trickling  out  of  one  side  of  the  knapsack,  chartreuse  out  of  the 
other — we  bemoaned  its  loss,  but  we  roared  with  laughter. 

I  cannot  close  this  chapter  without  paying  tribute  to  the 
ability  with  which  Croz  led  us,  through  a  dense  mist,  down  the 
remainder  of  the  Glacier  de  Pilatte.  As  an  exhibition  of  strength 
and  skill,  it  has  seldom  been  surpassed  in  the  Alps  or  elsewhere. 
On  this  almost  unknown  and  very  steep  glacier,  he  was  perfectly 
at  home,  even  in  the  mists.  Never  able  to  see  fifty  feet  ahead,  he 
still  went  on  with  the  utmost  certainty,  and  without  having  to 
retrace  a  single  step ;  and  displayed  from  first  to  last  consummate 
knowledge  of  the  materials  with  which  he  was  dealing.  Now  he 
cut  steps  down  one  side  of  a  s^rac,  went  with  a  dash  at  the  other 
side,  and  hauled  us  up  after  him ;  then  cut  away  along  a  ridge 
until  a  point  was  gained  from  which  we  could  jump  on  to  another 
ridge;  then,  doubling  back,  found  a  snow-bridge,  over  which  he 
crawled  on  hands  and  knees,  towed  us  across  by  the  legs,  ridicul- 
ing our  apprehensions,  mimicking  our  awkwardness,  declining 
all  help,  bidding  us  only  to  follow  him. 

About  1  p.m.  we  emerged  from  the  mist  and  found  oiirselws 
just  arrived  upon  the  level  portion  of  the  glacier,  having,  as  Rey- 
naud  properly  remarked,  come  down  as  quickly  as  if  there  had 
not  V>een  any  mist  at  all.  Then  we  attacked  the  leg  of  mutton 
which  my  friend  had  so  thoughtfully  brought  with  him,  and  after- 
wards raced  down,  with  renewed  energy,  to  La  B&arde, 

2f 


218  80BAMBLEB  AMONGST  Till:  Airs  ohaf.  x. 

Reynaud  and  I  walked  together  to  St.  Christophe,  where  we 
parted.  Since  then  we  have  talked  over  the  doings  of  this  inoment- 
ons  day;  and  I  know  that  he  would  Dot,  for  a  good  deal,  have 
missed  the  passage  of  the  Col  de  Pilatte,  although  we  failed  to 
make  it  an  easier  or  a  shorter  route  than  the  Col  du  Sele.  I 
rejoined  Moore  and  Walker,  the  same  evening,  at  Vcmos,  and 
on  the  next  day  went  with  them  over  the  Lautaret  road  to  the 
hospice  on  its  summit,  where  we  slept. 

So  our  little  campaign  in  Dauphine  came  to  an  end.  It  was 
remarkable  for  the  absence  of  failures,  and  for  the  precision  with 
which  all  our  plans  were  carried  out.  This  was  due  very  much 
to  the  spirit  of  my  companions;  but  it  was  also  owing  to  the 
tine  weather  which  we  were  fortunate  enough  to  enjoy,  and  to  our 
making  a  very  early  start  every  morning.  By  beginning  our  work 
at  or  before  the  break  of  day,  on  the  longest  days  in  the  year,  we 
were  not  only  able  to  avoid  hurrying  when  deliberation  was 
desirable,  but  could  afford  to  spend  several  hours  in  delightful 
ease  whenever  the  fancy  seized  us. 

I  cannot  too  strongly  recommend  to  tourists  in  search  of  amuse- 
ment to  avoid  the  inns  of  Dauphine.  Sleep  in  the  chalets.  Get 
what  food  you  can  from  the  inns,  but  by  no  means 'attempt  to 
pass  a  night  in  them.  Sleep  in  them  you  cannot.1  M.  Joanne 
said  that  the  inventor  of  the  insecticide  powder  was  a  native 
of  Dauphinl*.  I  can  well  believe  it.  He  must  have  often  felt  the 
necessity  of  such  an  invention  in  his  infancy  and  childhood. 

On  June  29  I  crossed  the  Col  du  Galibier  to  St.  Michel :  on 
the  30th,  the  ('"1  des  Kncombres  to  Moutiers;  on  July  1,  the  <  '"1 
du  Bonhomme  to  Contamines;  and  on  the  2nd,  by  the  Pavilion  da 
Bellevue  to  Chamounix,  where  1  joined  Mr.  Adams- hVilly  to  take 
pari  in  some  expeditions  which  had  been  planned  long  before. 

1  TImh  passage,  written  in  1864,  is  perhaps,  now,  somewhat  too  sweeping; 
though,  from  recent  experience  in  Dauphine,  it  does  not  appear  to  stand  in  need 
of  much  qualification. 


CHAPTER    XL 

PASSAGE    OF    THE    COL    DE    TRIOLET,    AND    FIRST    ASCENTS    OF    MONT 
DOLENT,   AIGUILLE   DE  TRELATETE,   AND   AIGUILLE   d'ARGENTIEKE. 

'  Nothing  binds  men  so  closely  together  as  agreement  in  plans  and  desires." 

ClCEKO. 

In  the  year  1864,  very  few  persons  knew  from  personal  knowledge 
with  what  extreme  inaccuracy  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc  was  de- 
lineated. During  the  previous  half-century  thousands  had  made 
the  tour  of  the  chain,  and  in  that  time  at  least  one  thousand  indi- 
viduals had  stood  upon  its  highest  summit;  but  out  of  all  this 
number  there  was  not  one  at  the  same  time  capable,  willing,  and 
able,  to  map  the  mountain  which,  until  recently,  was  regarded  the 
highest  in  Europe. 

Many  persons  knew  that  great  blunders  had  been  perpetrated, 
and  it  was  notorious  that  even  Mont  Blanc  itself  was  represented 
in  a  ludicrously  incorrect  manner  on  all  sides  excepting  the  north  ; 
but  there  was  not,  perhaps,  a  single  individual  who  knew,  at  the 
time  to  which  I  refer,  that  errors  of  no  less  than  a  thousand  feet 
had  been  committed  in  the  determination  of  heights  at  each  end 
of  the  chain ;  that  some  glaciers  were  represented  of  double  their 
real  dimensions;  and  that  ridges  and  mountains  were  laid  down 
which  actually  had  no  existence. 

One  portion  alone  of  the  entire  chain  had  been  surveyed  at  the 
time  of  which  I  speak  with  anything  like  accuracy.  It  was  not 
done  (as  one  would  have  expected)  by  a  Government,  but  by  a 


•2-2U  SriiAMHl.Ks   AMu.MiST  THE   ALPS.  CHAP.  XL 

private   individual,     bj    the  British   1>»-   Saussure,-    the   late  J. 
D.  Forbes.    In  the  year  1X42,  he  "made  a  special  survey  of  1 1 1« - 

Mti  tit-  (ilaee  of  Chaniounix  and  its  tributaries,  which,  in  BOme  "I 
the  following  years,  he  extended  by  further  observations,  so  u  to 

include  the  (J  lacier  des  Bossons."    The  map  produced  from  this 
survey  was  worthy  of  its  author;  and  subsequent  explorers  of 

the  region  lie  investigated  have  been  able  to  detect  only  trivial 
inaccuracies  in  his  work. 

The  district  surveyed  by  Forbes  remained  a  solitary  bright 
sjMit  in  u  region  where  all  besides  was  darkness  until  the  year 
1861.  Praiseworthy  attempts  were  made  by  different  hands  to 
throw  light  upon  the  gloom,  but  the  efforts  were  ineffectual, 
and  shewed  how  labour  may  be  thrown  away  by  a  number 
of  observers  working  independently,  without  the  direction  of 
a  single  head. 

In  18G1,  Sheet  xxn.  of  Dufour's  great  Map  of  Switzerland 
appeared.  It  included  the  section  of  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc 
that  belonged  to  Switzerland,  and  this  portion  of  the  sheet  was 
executed  with  the  admirable  fidelity  and  thoroughness  which 
characterise  the  whole  of  Dufour's  unique  map.  The  remainder  of 
the  chain  (amounting  to  about  four-fifths  of  the  whole)  was  laid 
down  after  the  work  of  previous  topographers,  and  its  wretched- 
ness was  made  more  apparent  by  contrast  with  the  finished 
work  of  the  Swiss  surveyors. 

Strong  hands  were  needed  to  complete  the  survey,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  the  right  men  appeared. 

In  1863,  Mr.  Adams-Keilly,  who  had  been  travelling  in  tin- 
Alps  during  several  years,  resolved  to  attempt  a  survey  of  the  im- 
surveyed  portions  of  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc.  He  provided  him- 
self with  a  good  theodolite,  and  starting  from  a  base-line  measured 
by  Forbes  in  the  Valley  of  Chamounix,  determined  the  positions  of 
no  less  than  two  hundred  points.  The  accuracy  of  his  work  may 
be  judged  from  the  fact  that,  after  having  turned  many  corners 
and   carried   his  observations  over  a  distance  of  fifty   miles,  his 


chap.  xi.  MAI'S   OF  MONT  BLANC.  221 

Col    Ferret    "  fell    within    two   Hundred    yards    of    the    position 
assigned  to  it  by  General  Dufour ! " 

In  the  winter  of  1863  and  the  spring  of  1864,  Mr.  Ueilly  con- 
structed an  entirely  original  map  from  his  newly-acquired  data. 
The  spaces  between  his  trigonoinetrically-determined  points  he 
filled  in  after  photographs,  and  a  series  of  panoramic  sketches  which 
he  made  from  his  different  stations.  The  map  so  produced  was 
a  distinct  advance  upon  those  which  were  already  in  existence,  and 
it  was  the  first  which  exhibited  the  great  peaks  in  their  proper 
positions. 

This  extraordinary  piece  of  work  revealed  Mr.  Keilly  to  me  as 
a  man  of  wonderful  determination  and  perseverance.  With  very 
small  hope  that  my  proposal  would  be  accepted,  I  invited  him 
to  take  part  in  renewed  attacks  on  the  Matterhorn.  He  entered 
heartily  into  my  plans,  and  met  me  with  a  counter-proposition, 
namely,  that  I  should  accompany  him  on  some  expeditions  which 
he  had  projected  in  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc.  The  unwritten  con- 
tract took  this  form : — I  will  help  you  to  carry  out  your  desires, 
and  you  shall  assist  me  to  carry  out  mine.  I  eagerly  closed  with 
an  arrangement  in  which  all  the  advantages  were  upon  my  side. 

At  the  time  that  Mr.  Reilly  was  carrying  on  his  survey,  Captain 
Mieulet  was  executing  another  in  continuation  of  the  great  map  of 
France ;  for  about  one-half  of  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc  (including 
the  whole  of  the  Valley  of  Chamounix)  had  recently  become  French 
once  more.  Captain  Mieulet  was  at  first  directed  to  survey  up 
to  the  frontier  only,  and  the  sheet  which  was  destined  to  include 
his  work  was  to  be  engraved  upon  the  scale  of  the  rest  of  the 
map,  namely,  goooo  of  nature.  Representations  were,  however, 
made  at  head-quarters  that  it  would  be  of  great  advantage  to 
extend  the  survey  as  far  as  Courmayeur,  and  Captain  Mieulet  was 
subsequently  directed  to  continue  his  observations  into  the  south 
(or  Italian)  side  of  the  chain.  A  special  sheet  on  the  scale  of 
aoooo  was  promptly  engraved  from  the  materials  he  accumulated, 
and  was  published  in  1865,  by  order  of  the  late  Minister  of  War, 


•2-2-2  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  AIM  chap.  n. 

Marshal     llandnn.1      This    sheet     was    admirably     executed.    1  ill  t     it, 

included  the  central  portion  of  the  chain  only,  and  a  complete 

map  was  still  wanting. 

Mr.  h'cilly  presented  his  MS.  map  to  the  English  Alpine  Club. 
It  was  resolved  that  it  should  he  published;  but  Wore  it  passed 
into  the  engraver's  hands  its  author  undertook  to  revise  it  care- 
fully. To  this  end  he  planned  a  number  of  expeditions  to  bigfa 
points  which  up  to  that  time  had  been  regarded  inaccessible,  and 
it  was  upon  some  of  these  ascents  he  invited  me  to  accompany 
him.1  Before  I  pass  on  to  these  expeditions  (which  will  be 
described  very  briefly),  it  will  be  convenient  to  devote  a  few 
paragraphs  to  the  topography  of  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc.8 

At  the  present  time  the  chain  is  divided  betwixt  France, 
Switzerland,  and  Italy.  France  has  the  lion's  share,  Switzerland 
the  most  fertile  portion,  and  Italy  the  steepest  side.  It  has 
acquired  a  reputation  which  is  not  extraordinary,  though  not 
entirely  merited.  It  has  neither  the  beauty  of  the  Oberland,  nor 
the  sublimity  of  Dauphine.  It  attracts  the  vulgar  by  the  posses- 
sion of  the  highest  summit  in  the  Alps.  If  that  is  removed,  the 
elevation  of  the  chain  is  in  nowise  remarkable.  In  fact,  excluding 
Mont  Blanc  itself,  the  mountains  of  which  the  chain  is  made  up 
are  less  important  than  those  of  the  Oberland  and  the  central 
Pennine  groups.  The  following  table  will  afford  a  ready  means  of 
comparison.4 

1  Under  the  titk-  of  Mnsaij  ilu  Mont  Blanc,  crtrait  </•*  minutes  dt  la  Oa 
France,  levi  par  M.  Miculet,  Capitaine  d'Etat  Major. 

'-'  Mr.  luilly's  map  was  published  on  a  scale  of  ^J,^  in  1865,  at  the  cost  of  the 
Alpim-  Cluli,  under  the  title   The  Chain  of  Mont  Blanc. 

8  See  the  map  of  the  chain  « » t"  Hont  Blanc  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 

This  map  has  been  drawn  after  the  survey-  of  kfienlet,  Dufour,  and  Keillv. 
To  assist  in  its  production,  the  Depot  de  la  Guerre  at  Paris  furnished  me  with 
special  copies  of  Captain  Mieulet's  map.  The  nomenclature  of  these  authorities 
has  been  strictly  followed.  It  may  be  remarked,  however,  that  Captain  Miculet 
has  departed,  in  many  instances,  from  the  sidling  in  common  use. 

4  The  heights  (in  metres)  are  after  Captain   Miculet. 


chap.  xi.       PEAKS  OF  THE  CHAIN  OF  MONT  BLANC. 


223 


M.tres. 

Eng.  feet.' 

1. 

Mont  B 

anc 

4810   = 

16,781 

2. 

Grandes  Jorasses 

4206     . 

13,800 

3. 

Aiguille 

Verte 

4127     . 

13,540 

4. 

»> 

de  Bionnassay 

4061     . 

13,324 

5. 

Les  Droites 

4030     . 

13,222 

6. 

Aiguille  du  Geant  . 

4010     . 

13,157 

7. 

>» 

de  Trelatete,  No.  1  ) 

3932     . 

12,900 

» 

„    2  } 

3904     . 

12,809 

>> 

m    3) 

3896     . 

12,782 

8. 

» 

d'Argentiere 

3901     . 

12,799 

9. 

j» 

de  Triolet 

3879     . 

12,726 

10. 

>> 

du  Midi     . 

3843     . 

12,608 

11. 

» 

du  Glacier 

3834     . 

12,579 

12. 

Mont  Dolent 

3830     . 

12,566 

13. 

Aiguille 

du  Chardonnet 

3823     . 

12,543 

14. 

» 

du  Dru 

3815     . 

12,517 

15. 

j? 

de  Miage    . 

3680     . 

12,074 

16. 

» 

du  Plan 

3673     . 

12,051 

17. 

») 

de  Blaitiere 

3533     . 

11,591 

18. 

» 

des  Charmoz 

3442     . 

11,293 

The  frontier-line  follows  the  main  ridge.  Very  little  of  it  can 
be  seen  from  the  Valley  of  Chamounix,  and  from  the  village  itself 
two  small  strips  only  are  visible  (amounting  to  scarcely  three 
miles  in  length),  viz.  from  the  summit  of  Mont  Blanc  to  the  Dome 
du  Gouter,  and  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Col  de  Balnie.  All 
the  rest  is  concealed  by  outlying  ridges  and  by  mountains  of 
secondary  importance. 

Mont  Blanc  itself  is  bounded  by  the  two  glaciers  of  Miage,  the 
Glaciers  de  la  Brenva  and  du  Geant,  the  Val  Ve'ni  and  the  Valley 
of  Chamounix.  A  long  ridge  runs  out  towards  the  N.N.E.  from 
the  summit,  through  Mont  Maudit,  to  the  Aiguille  du  Midi. 
Another  ridge  proceeds  towards  the  N.W.,  through  the  Bosse  du 
Dromadaire  to  the  Dome  du  Gouter;  this  then  divides  into  two, 
of  which  one  continues  N.W.  to  the  Aiguille  du  Gouter,  and  the 


1  Some  of  these  heights  have  no  business  to  figure  in  a  list  of  the  principal  peaks 
of  tin-  chain,  being  nothing  more  than  teeth  or  pinnacles  in  ridges,  or  portions  of 
higher  mountains.  Such,  for  example,  are  the  Aiguilles  du  (it'ant,  du  Dm,  and  de 
Bionnassay. 


•J  -2  4  SCRAMBLES  A MONGST  Til  I  .  I  /.  / ->.  obap.  \  i . 

other  (which  is  a  purl  of  the  main  ridge  of  the  chain)  towards  the 
\Y.  to  the  Aiguille  de  Bionnassay.  The  tw<>  routes  which  816 
Commonly  followed  for  the  ascent  of  Mont  Blnnc  lie  between 
these  two  principal  ridges — one  leading  from  Chamounix,  vid 
the  Grands  Mulcts,  the  other  from  the  village  of  r>i<>nnassay, 
rid  the  Aiguille  and  Dome  du  G  outer.1 

The  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc  has  been  made  from  several  direc- 
tions l>esides  these,  and  perhaps  there  is  no  single  point  of  the 
compass  from  which  the  mountain  cannot  he  ascended.  But 
there  is  not  the  least  probability  that  any  one  will  discover  easier 
ways  to  the  summit  than  those  already  known. 

I  believe  it  is  correct  to  say  that  the  Aiguille  du  Midi  and  the 
Aiguille  de  Miage  were  the  only  two  summits  in  the  chain  of 
Mont  Blanc  which  had  been  ascended  at  the  beginning  of  L864.8 
The  latter  of  these  two  is  an  insignificant  point;  and  the  former 
is  only  a  portion  of  one  of  the  ridges  just  now  mentioned,  and  can 
hardly  be  regarded  as  a  mountain  separate  and  distinct  from 
Mont  Blanc.  The  really  great  peaks  of  the  chain  were  considered 
inaccessible,  and,  I  think,  with  the  exception  of  the  Aiguille  Verte, 
had  never  been  assailed. 

The  finest,  as  well  as  the  highest  peak  in  the  chain  (after 
Mont  Blanc  itself),  is  the  Grandes  Jorasses.  The  next,  without  a 
doubt,  is  the  Aiguille  Verte.  The  Aiguille  de  Bionnassay,  which 
in  actual  height  follows  the  Verte,  should  be  considered  as  a  part 
of  Mont  Blanc;  and  in  the  same  way  the  summit  called  Les 
Droites  is  only  a  part  of  the  ridge  which  culminates  in  the  Verte. 
The  Aiguille  de  Trelatete  is  the  next  on  the  list  that  is  entitled 
to  be  considered  a  separate  mountain,  and  it  is  by  far  the  must 
important  peak  (as  well  as  the  highest)  at  the  south-west  end  of 
the  chain.  Then  comes  the  Aiguille  d'Argentiere,  which  occupies 
the  same  rank  at  the  north-east  end  as  the  last-mentioned  mountain 
does  in  the  south-west,  The  rest  of  the  aiguilles  are  comparatively 
insignificant;    and  although  some   of  them  (such  as   the   Mont 

1  These  routes  are  laid  down  on  the  Map.  Bcsidrs   Mont    Wane  itself. 


cu.u:  xi.      FIRST  PASSAGE  OF  THE  COL  DE  TRIOLET.  225 

Dolent)  look  well  from  low  elevations,  and  seem  to  possess  a 
certain  importance,  they  sink  into  their  proper  places  directly  one 
arrives  at  a  considerable  altitude. 

The  summit  of  the  Aiguille  Verte  would  have  been  one  of  the 
best  stations  out  of  all  these  mountains  for  the  purposes  of  my 
friend.  Its  great  height,  and  its  isolated  and  commanding  position, 
make  it  a  most  admirable  point  for  viewing  the  intricacies  of  the 
chain ;  but  he  exercised  a  wise  discretion  in  passing  it  by,  and  in 
selecting  as  our  first  excursion  the  passage  of  the  Col  de  Triolet.1 

We  slept  under  some  big  rocks  on  the  Couvercle  on  the  night 
of  July  7,  with  the  thermometer  at  265  Fahr.,  and  at  4.30  a.m. 
on  the  8th  made  a  straight  track  to  the  north  of  the  Jardin,  and 
thence  went  in  zigzags,  to  break  the  ascent,  over  the  upper  slopes 
of  the  Glacier  de  Talefre  towards  the  foot  of  the  Aiguille  de 
Triolet.  Croz  was  still  my  guide,  Reilly  was  accompanied  by  one 
of  the  Michel  Payots  of  Chamounix,  and  Henri  Charlet,  of  the 
same  place,  was  our  porter. 

The  way  was  over  an  undulating  plain  of  glacier  of  moderate 
inclination  until  the  corner  leading  to  the  Col,  whence  a  steep 
secondary  glacier  led  down  into  the  basin  of  the  Talefre.  "We 
experienced  no  difficulty  in  making  the  ascent  of  this  secondary 
glacier  with  such  ice-men  as  Croz  and  Payot,  and  at  7.50  a.m. 
arrived  on  the  top  of  the  so-called  pass,  at  a  height,  according  to 
Mirulet,  of  12,162  feet,  and  4530  above  our  camp  on  the  Couvercle. 

The  descent  was  commenced  by  very  steep,  but  firm,  rocks,  and 
then  by  a  branch  of  the  Glacier  de  Triolet.  Schrunds  -  were  abun- 
dant; there  were  no  less  than  five  extending  completely  across 
the  glacier,  all  of  which  had  to  be  jumped.  Not  one  was  equal 
in  dimensions  to  the  extraordinary  chasm  on  the  Col  de  Pilatte, 

1  Previous  to  this  we  made  an  attempt  to  ascend  the  Aiguille  d'Argentiere,  and 
were  defeated  by  a  violent  wind  when  within  a  hundred  feet  of  the  summit.  It  id 
more  convenient  to  refer  to  this  expedition  at  the  end  of  the  chapter. 

2  Great  crevasses.  A  bergschrund  is  a  schrund,  and  something  more.  (See 
Chap.  XIV.) 

2G 


IS6  Si'h'AMULKS  AMONQ8T  TIN-:   ALPS.  CHAP.  XL 

although  in  the  aggregate  they  I'm  mrpasaed  it.    "Our  live 
Eteilly  expressed  it,  "were  made  a  harden  t«»  us  with  Bchrnnaa." 

Several  spurs  run  out  towards  the  south-fast  from  the  ridge  al 
tin-  head  of  the  Glacier  de  Triolet,  and  divide  it  into  a  uuml 
bays.  We  descended  the  most  northern  of  these,  and  when  we 
emerged  from  it  on  to  the  open  glacier,  just  at  the  junction  of  our 
bay  with  the  next  one,  there  we  came  across  a  most  beautiful  ice- 
arch,  festooned  with  icicles,  the  decaying  remnant  of  an  old 
which  stood,  isolated,  full  30  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  glacier  ! 
It  was  an  accident,  and  I  have  not  seen  its  like  elsewhere.  "Winn 
I  passed  the  spot  in  1865  no  vestige  of  it  remained. 

We  nattered  ourselves  that  we  should  arrive  at  the  chalets  of  Pre 
du  Bar  very  early  in  the  day;  but,  owing  to  much  time  being  lost 
on  the  slopes  of  Mont  Rouge,  it  was  nearly  4  p.m.  before  we  got  to 
them.  There  were  no  bridges  across  the  torrent  nearer  than  ( ;  ruetta, 
and,  rather  than  descend  so  far,  we  preferred  to  round  the  base  of 
Mont  Rouge,  and  to  cross  the  snout  of  the  Glacier  du  Mont  Dolent.1 

We  occupied  the  9th  with  a  scramble  up  the  Mont  Dolent. 
This  was  a  miniature  ascent.  It  contained  a  little  of  everything. 
First  we  went  up  to  the  Col  Ferret  (No.  1),  and  had  a  little  grind 
over  shaly  banks ;  then  there  was  a  little  walk  over  grass ;  then 
a  little  tramp  over  a  moraine  (which,  strange  to  say,  gave  a  plea- 
Bant  path);  then  a  little  zigzagging  over  the  snow-covered  glacier 
of  Mont  Dolent.  Then  there  was  a  little  bergschrund ;  then  a  lit  tit- 
wall  of  snow, — which  we  mounted  by  the  side  of  a  little  buttress ; 
and  when  we  struck  the  ridge  descending  S.K.  from  the  summit,  we 
found  a  little  arete  of  snow  leading  to  the  highest  point  The 
summit  itself  was  little, — very  small  indeed:  it  was  the  loveliest 
little  cone  of  snow  that  was  ever  piled  up  on  mountain-top;  so 

1  The  passage  of  the  Col  de  Triolet  from  the  Couverele  to  Pre  du  Bar  occupied  8| 
hours  of  actual  walking.  If  the  pass  hud  Im.h  taken  in  tin- contrary  direction  it  would 
have  consumed  a  much  longer  time.  It  gave  a  route  shorter  than  any  known  at  the 
time  lMtween  (liainouiiix  and  the  St.  Bernard.  Asa  j«s8  I  cannot  conscientiously 
recommend  it  to  any  one  (see  (Jimp.  XIX.),  nor  am  I  desirous  to  go  again  over  tin 
moraine  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Glacier  de  Triolet,  or  the  rocks  of  Mont  Kouge. 


chap.  xi.  FIRST  ASCENT  OF  MONT  DOLENT.  227 

soft,  so  pure ;  it  seemed  a  crime  to  defile  it ;  it  was  a  miniature 
Jungfraii,  a  toy  summit,  you  could  cover  it  with  the  hand.1 

But  there  was  nothing  little  about  the  vievj  from  the  Mont 
Dolent.  [Situated  at  the  junction  of  three  mountain  ridges,  it  rises 
in  a  positive  steeple  far  above  anything  in  its  immediate  neighbour- 
hood ;  and  certain  gaps  in  the  surrounding  ridges,  which  seem 
contrived  for  that  especial  purpose,  extend  the  view  in  almost  every 
direction.  The  precipices  which  descend  to  the  Glacier  d'Argentiere 
I  can  only  compare  to  those  of  the  Jungfrau,  and  the  ridges  on  both 
sides  of  that  glacier,  especially  the  steep  rocks  of  Les  Droites  and 
Les  Courtes,  surmounted  by  the  sharp  snow-peak  of  the  Aiguille  Verte, 
have  almost  the  effect  of  the  Grandes  Jorasses.  Then,  framed,  as 
it  were,  between  the  massive  tower  of  the  Aiguille  de  Triolet  and  the 
more  distant  Jorasses,  lies,  without  exception,  the  most  delicately 
beautiful  picture  I  have  ever  seen — the  whole  massif  of  Mont  Blanc, 
raising  its  great  head  of  snow  far  above  the  tangled  series  of  flying 
buttresses  which  uphold  the  Monts  Maudits,  supported  on  the  left 
by  Mont  Peuteret  and  by  the  mass  of  ragged  aiguilles  which  over- 
hang the  Brenva.  This  aspect  of  Mont  Blanc  is  not  new,  but  from 
this  point  its  pose  is  unrivalled,  and  it  has  all  the  superiority  of  a 
picture  grouped  by  the  hand  of  a  master.  .  .  The  view  is  as 
extensive,  and  far  more  lovely  than  that  from  Mont  Blanc  itself.]2 

"We  went  down  to  Courmayeur,  and  on  the  afternoon  of  July  10 
started  from  that  place  to  camp  on  Mont  Sue,  for  the  ascent  of  the 
Aiguille  de  Trelatete ;  hopeful  that  the  mists  which  were  hanging 
about  would  clear  away.  They  did  not,  so  we  deposited  ourselves, 
and  a  great  load  of  straw,  on  the  moraine  of  the  Miage  Glacier,  just 
above  the  Lac  de  Combal,  in  a  charming  little  hole  which  some 
solitary  shepherd  had  excavated  beneath  a  great  slab  of  rock.  We 
spent  the  night  there,  and  the  whole  of  the  next  day,  unwilling 

1  The  ascent  of  Mont  Dolent  and  return  to  Pre  du  Bar  (halts  included)  occupied 
less  than  eleven  hours. 

1  The  bracketed  paragraphs  in  this  chapter  are  extracted  from  the  notes  of 
Mr.  Reilly. 


8M 


S(  7.'. I MBL  AN  AMi  )NQ8T  TH S  . I  LPB. 


en  ay.  \i. 


to  run  away,  and  equally  so  to  get  into  difficulties  by  venturing 

into  tin-  mist.      It  was  a  dull    t  inn*,  and    I 

grew  restless,     lieilly  read  to  me  a  lecture 

00  tli<"  excellence  of  patience,  and  composed 
himself  in  an  easy  attitude,  to  pore  over  the 
pages  of  a  yellow-covered  hook.  "Patience," 

1  said  to  him  viciously,  "comes  readily 
to  fellows  who  have  shilling  novels  ;  hut  1 

have  not  got  one;  I  have  picked  all  the  mud  out  of  the  nails  of 
my  boots,  and  have  skinned  my  face;  what 
shall  I  do  ? "  "  Go  and  study  the  moraine 
of  the  Miage,"  said  he.  I  went,  and  came 
hack  after  an  hour.  "  What  news  ?  "  cried 
1  teilly,  raising  himself  on  his  elhow.  "  Very 
little;   it's  a  hig  moraine,  bigger  than    I 

thought,  with  ridge  outside  ridge,  like  a  fortified  camp;  and  there 
are  walls  upon  it  which  have  been  built 
and  loop-holed,  as  if  for  defence."  "  Try 
again,"  he  said,  as  he  threw  himself  on  his 
hack.  But  I  went  to  Croz,  who  was  asleep, 
and  tickled  his  nose  with  a  straw  until 

be  awoke  ;  and  then,  as  that  amusement  was  played  out,  watched 
lteilly,  who  was  getting  numbed,  and  shifted 
uneasily  from  side  to  side,  and  threw  him- 
self on  his  stomach,  and  rested  his  head 
on  his  elbows,  and  lighted  his  pipe  and 
] niffed  at  it  savagely.  "When  I  looked  again, 
how  was    Eeilly  ?    An    indistinguishable 

heap:  arms,  legs,  head,  stones,  and  straw,  all  mixed  together,  his 
hat  Hung  on  one  side,  his  novel  tossed  far 
away!  Then  I  went  to  him,  and  read  him 
a  lecture  upon  the  excellence  of  patience. 

Bah!  it  was  a  dull  time.     Our  mount- 
ain, like  a  beautiful  coquette,  sometimes 

unveiled  herself  for  a  moment,  and  looked  charming  above,  although 


-  :j+-  - 


CHAP.  XI. 


FIRST  ASCENT  OF  AIGUILLE  DE  TRELATETE.        229 


very  mysterious  below.  It  was  not  until  eventide  she  allowed 
us  to  approach  her ;  then,  as  darkness  came  on,  the  curtains  were 
withdrawn,  the  light  drapery  was  lifted,  and  we  stole  up  on  tiptoe 
through  the  grand  portal  formed  by  Mont  Sue.  But  night  advanced 
rapidly,  and  we  found  ourselves  left  out  in  the  cold,  without  a  hole 
to  creep  into  or  shelter  from  overhanging  rock.  We  might  have 
fared  badly,  except  for  our  good  plaids.     When  they  were  sewn 


OUR  CAMP  ON    MONT  SUC1 


together  down  their  long  edges,  one  end  tossed  over  our  rope 
(which  was  passed  round  some  rocks),  and  the  other  secured  by 
stones,  there  was  sufficient  protection;  and  we  slept  on  this 
exposed  ridge,  9700  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  more  soundly, 
perhaps,  than  if  we  had  been  lying  on  feather  beds. 

We  left  our  bivouac  at  4.45  A.M.,  and  at  9.40  arrived  upon  the 

1  From  a  sketch  by  Mr.  Adams-Reilly.     This  camp  was  immediately  at  the  foot 
of  the  snow  seen  upon  the  map  to  the  N.W.  of  the  words  Mont  Sue. 


230  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  TBB  AIM  chap.  xi. 

highest  of  the  three  summit*  of  tin-  frelatdte,  by  passing  over  tin- 

lowest  one.  It  was  well  above  everything  at  this  end  of  the.  chain, 
and  the  \  ifw  from  it  was  of  tlie  grandest  character.  The  whole  of 
the  western  face  of  Mont  Blanc  was  spread  <>ut  he  lore  us  ;  we  were 
the  first  by  whom  it  had  been  ever  seen.  I  cede  the  description 
•  •I'  this  view  to  my  comrade,  to  whom  it  rightfully  belongs. 

[For  four  years  I  had  felt  great  interest  in  the  geography  of  t  In* 
chain  ;  the  year  before  I  had  mapped,  more  or  less  successfully,  all 
but  this  spot,  and  this  spot  had  always  eluded  my  grasp.  The 
praises,  undeserved  as  they  were,  which  my  map  had  received, 
were  as  gall  and  wormwood  to  me  when  1  thought  of  that  great 
slope  which  I  had  been  obliged  to  leave  a  blank,  speckled  over 
with  unmeaning  dots  of  rock,  gathered  from  previous  maps — for  I 
had  consulted  them  all  without  meeting  an  intelligible  representa- 
tion of  it.  From  the  surface  of  the  Miage  Glacier  I  had  gained 
nothing,  for  I  could  only  see  the  feet  of  magnificent  ice-streams ; 
but  now,  from  the  top  of  the  dead  wall  of  rock  which  had  so  long 
closed  my  view,  I  saw  those  fine  glaciers  from  top  to  bottom,  pour- 
ing down  their  streams,  nearly  as  large  as  the  Bossons,  from  Monl 
Blanc,  from  the  Bosse,  and  from  the  Dome. 

The  head  of  Mont  Blanc  is  supported  on  this  side  by  two  but- 
tresses, between  which  vast  glaciers  descend.  Of  these  the  most 
southern1  takes  its  rise  at  the  foot  of  the  precipices  which  fall 
steeply  down  from  the  Calotte,2  and  its  stream,  as  it  joins  that  of 
the  Miage,  is  cut  in  two  by  an  enormous  rognon  of  rock.  Next,  to 
the  left,  comes  the  largest  of  the  buttresses  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
almost  forming  an  aiguille  in  itself.  The  next  glacier3  descends 
from  a  large  basin  which  receives  the  snows  of  the  summit -rid^e 
between  the  Bosse  and  the  Dome,  and  it  is  divided  from  the  third 
and  last  glacier4  by  another  buttress,  which  joins  the  summit-ridge 
at  a  point  between  the  Dome  and  the  Aiguille  de  Bionnassay.] 

1  This  glacier  ia  named  on  the  map  Olacier  du  Mont  Hlanc. 
*  The  Calotte  is  the  name  given  to  the  dome  of  snow  at  the  summit  of  Mont 
Blanc.  3  Glacier  du  Ddme.  *  This  is  without  a  name. 


chap.  xi.  THE  MORAINES  OF  THE  MI  AG  hi.  231 

The  great  buttresses  betwixt  these  magnificent  ice-streams  have 
supplied  a  large  portion  of  the  enormous  masses  of*  debris  which 
are  disposed  in  ridges  round  about,  and  are  strewn  over,  the 
termination  of  the  Glacier  de  Miage  in  the  Val  V^ni.  These 
moraines1  used  to  be  classed  amongst  the  wonders  of  the  world. 
They  are  very  large  for  a  glacier  of  the  size  of  the  Miage. 

The  dimensions  of  moraines  are  not  ruled  by  those  of  glaciers. 
Many  small  glaciers  have  large  moraines,2  and  many  large  ones 
have  small  moraines.  The  size  of  the  moraines  of  any  glacier 
depends  mainly  upon  the  area  of  rock-surface  that  is  exposed  to 
atmospheric  influences  within  the  basin  drained  by  the  glacier; 
upon  the  nature  of  such  rock, — whether  it  is  friable  or  resistant ; 
and  upon  the  dip  of  strata.  Moraines  most  likely  will  be  small  if 
little  rock-surface  is  exposed ;  but  when  large  ones  are  seen,  then, 
in  all  probability,  large  areas  of  rock,  uncovered  by  snow  or  ice, 
will  be  found  in  immediate  contiguity  to  the  glacier.  The  Miage 
Glacier  has  large  ones,  because  it  receives  detritus  from  many  great 
cliffs  and  ridges.  But  if  this  glacier,  instead  of  lying,  as  it  does,  at 
the  bottom  of  a  trough,  were  to  fill  that  trough,  if  it  were  to  com- 
pletely envelop  the  Aiguille  de  Trelatete,  and  the  other  mount- 
ains which  border  it,  and  were  to  descend  from  Mont  Blanc 
unbroken,  by  rock  or  ridge,  it  would  be  as  destitute  of  morainic 
matter  as  the  great  Mer  de  Glace  of  Greenland.  For  if  a  country 
or  district  is  completely  covered  up  by  glacier,  the  moraines  may 
be  of  the  very  smallest  dimensions.3 

The  contributions  that  are  supplied  to  moraines  by  glaciers 
themselves,  from  the  abrasion  of  the  rocks  over  which  their  ice 

1  I  do  not  know  the  origin  of  the  term  moraine.  De  Saussure  says  (vol.  i.  p.  380, 
§  536),  "  the  peasants  of  Chaniounix  call  these  heaps  of  debris  tJie  moraine  of  the 
glacier."  It  may  be  inferred  from  this  that  the  term  was  a  local  one,  peculiar  to 
Chamouuix. 

J  An  example  is  referred  to  on  p.  148.  Much  more  remarkable  cases  might  be 
tutanoed. 

3  It  is  not  usual  to  find  small  moraines  to  large  glaciers  fed  by  many  branches 
draining  many  dilfereut  basins.     That  is,  if  the  branches  are  draining  basins  which 


232  >'  ItAMHLES   AMn.XUST   THE   A  LIS.  CHAP.  u. 

passes,  a iv  minute  oompared  \%  i 1 1 1  the  accumulations  which  lie 
t'm  nisln-tl   from  other  sources.    Theee  greaf    rubbish-heap 

formed,  one  may  say  almost  entirely,  from  debris  which  falls, 
or  is  washed  down  the  Hanks  of  mountains,  or  from  dill's  bor- 
dering  glaciers;  and  are  composed,  t<>  a  very  limited  extent 
only,  of  matter  that  is  ground,  rasped,  or  filed  off  by  the  friction 
of  the  ice. 

It  the  contrary  view  were  to  be  adopted,  if  it  could  be  main- 
tained that  "glaciers,  by  their  motion,  break  off  masses  of  rbckjrom 
the  sides  and  bottoms  of  their  valley  courses,  and  crowd  along  every 
thing  that  is  movable,  so  as  to  form  large  accumulations  of  debris 
in  front,  and  along  their  sides,"  !  the  conclusion  could  not  be  re- 
sisted, the  greater  the  glacier,  the  greater  should  be  the  moraine. 

This  doctrine  does  not  find  much  favour  with  those  who  have 
personal  knowledge  of  what  glaciers  do  at  the  present  time.  From 
De  Saussure2  downwards  it  has  been  pointed  out,  time  after  time, 
that  moraines  are  chiefly  formed  from  debris  coming  from  rocks  or 
soil  above  the  ice,  not  from  the  bed  over  which  it  passes.  But 
amongst  the  writings  of  modern  speculators  upon  glaciers  and 
glacier-action  in  bygone  times,  it  is  not  uncommon  to  find  the 
notions  entertained,  that  moraines  represent  the  amount  of  excava- 
tion (such  is  the  term  employed)  performed  by  glaciers,  or  at  least 
are  comprised  of  matter  which  lias  been  excavated  by  glaciers; 
that  vast  moraines  have  necessarily  been  produced  by  vast  glaciers ; 
and  that  a  great  extension  of  glaciers — a  glacial  period — necessarily 
causes  the  production  of  vast  moraines.     It  is  needless  to  cite  more 

are  separated  hy  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  greater  ones  brought  by  another  feeder. 

1  Atlas  of  Physical  Geography,  by  Augustus  Petermann  and  the  Rev.  T.  Milmi, 
M.A.,  F.K.G.S.     The  italics  are  not  in  the  original. 

*  "The  stones  that  are  found  ujkhi  the  upi»er  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  tin  ir 
own." — De  Saussure,  §  536. 


chap.  xi.  ON  MORAINES  IN  GREENLAND.  233 

than  one  or  two  examples  to  shew  that  such  generalisations  cannot 
be  sustained.     Innumerable  illustrations  might  be  quoted. 

In  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc  one  may  compare  the  moraines 
of  the  Miage  with  those  of  the  Glacier  d'Argentiere.  The  latter 
glacier  drains  a  basin  equal  to  or  exceeding  that  of  the  former ; 
but  its  moraines  are  small  compared  with  those  of  the  former. 
More  notable  still  is  the  disparity  of  the  moraines  of  the  Gorner 
Glacier  (that  which  receives  so  many  branches  from  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Monte  Kosa  *),  and  of  the  Z'Muttgletscher.  The  area 
drained  by  the  Gorner  greatly  exceeds  the  basin  of  the  Z'Mutt, 
yet  the  moraines  of  the  Z'Mutt  are  incomparably  larger  than  those 
of  the  Gomer.  No  one  is  likely  to  say  that  the  Z'Mutt  and  Miage 
Glaciers  have  existed  for  a  far  greater  length  of  time  than  the 
other  pair;  an  explanation  must  be  sought  amongst  the  causes 
to  which  reference  has  been  made. 

More  striking  still  is  it  to  see  the  great  interior  Mer  de  Glace 
of  Greenland  almost  without  moraines.  This  vast  ice -plateau, 
although  smaller  than  it  was  in  former  times,  is  still  so  extensive 
that  the  whole  of  the  glaciers  of  the  Alps  might  be  merged  into  it 
without  its  bulk  being  perceptibly  increased.  If  the  size  of  moraines 
bore  any  sort  of  relation  to  the  size  of  glaciers,  the  moraines  of 
Greenland  should  be  far  greater  than  those  of  the  Alps. 

This  interior  ice -reservoir  of  Greenland,  enormous  as  it  is, 
is  only  the  remnant  of  a  mass  which  was  incalculably  greater,  and 
which  is  unparalleled  at  the  present  time  outside  the  Antarctic 
Circle.  With  the  exception  of  localities  where  the  rocks  are 
easy  of  disintegration,  and  the  traces  of  glacier-action  have  been 
to  a  great  extent  destroyed,  the  whole  country  bears  the  marks  of 
the  grinding  and  polishing  of  ice;  and,  judging  by  the  flatness  of 
the  curves  of  the  roches  moutonntfes,  and  by  the  perfection  of  the 
polish  which  still  remains  upon  the  rocks  after  they  have  sustained 

1  The  Unter  Theodul,  Klein  Matterhora,  Breithorn,  BehwilM,  ZwflUoga,  Grenz, 
and  Monte  Rosa  Glaciers,  are  all  feeders  of  the  Gomer.  The  Z'Mutt  receives  the 
TiHVnmatten,  Stock,  and  Schonbiihl  Glaciers  only. 

2  B 


■2-.u  80RAMBLBB  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  ohap.  n 

(possibly  through  many  centuries  extreme  variations  ni'  bempera- 
ture,  subsequently  to  the  retreat  of  the  glaciers,  the  period  during 
which  such  effects  were  produced  must  have  widely  exceeded  in 
duration  the  'glacial  periods' of  Europe.  If  moraines  were  built 
from  matter  excavated  by  glaciers,  the  moraines  of  Greenland 
should  be  the  greatest  in  the  world ! 

The  absence  of  moraines  upon  and  at  the  termination  of  this 
great  Mer  de  Glace  is  due  to  the  want  of  rocks  rising  above  the  ice.1 
On  two  occasions,  in  1867,  and  again  in  1872,  several  times,  I  saw 
many  hundreds  of  square  miles  of  the  interior  at  a  glance,  from  the 
summits  of  small  mountains  on  its  outskirts.  Not  a  single  peak 
or  ridge  was  to  be  seen  rising  above,  nor  a  single  rock  reposing 
upon  the  ice.  The  country  was  completely  covered  up  by  glacier ; 
all  was  ice,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see. 

There  is  evidence,  then,  that  considerable  areas  of  exposed  rock 
surface  are  essential  to  the  production  of  large  moraines,  and 
that  vast  moraines  are  not  necessarily  produced  during  glacial 
periods.  That  moraines  are  not  built  up  with  matter  which  is 
excavated  by  glaciers,  but  rather  illustrate  the  powers  of  glaciers 
for  transportation  and  arrangement.2 

1  I  refer  to  those  portions  of  it  which  I  have  seen  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Disco 
Bay.  There  are  moraines  in  this  district,  but  they  were  formed  when  the  great  Mo- 
de Olacc  stretched  nearer  to  the  sea, — when  it  sent  arms  down  through  the  valleys  in 
the  belt  of  land  which  now  intervenes  between  sea  and  glacier. 

2  The  striations  which  are  found  upon  rocks  over  which  glaciers  have  worked,  are 
universally  held  by  the  ablest  writers  to  be  caused  by  foreign  matter  held  in  the  grip 
of  the  ice,  or  rolling  between  it  and  the  rock-bed  (§  9,  pp.  133-34).  If  the  principal 
source  of  the  tools  which  make  these  marks  is  cut  off,  the  marks  should,  of  course, 
be  less  numerous. 

The  rarity  of  striations  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  great  Mcr  de  Olacc  of  Green- 
land was  very  noticeable.  There  was  perfection  of  glaciation  ;  but,  over  large  areas, 
striations,  flutings,  and  groovings  were  sometimes  entirely  wanting.  Weathering; 
subsequently  to  the  retreat  of  the  ice,  had  not  taken  place,  to  any  perceptible  extent, 
in  the  localities  to  which  I  refer. 

Striations,  groovings,  and  flutings,  can  be  found  on  the  outskirt  land  ;  but  they 
are  less  common  in  Greenland  than  in  the  Alps. 


chap.  xi.    OUR  FIRST  ATTEMPT  ON  AW.  VARGENTIEUE.        235 

We  descended  in  our  track  to  the  Lac  de  Comlml,1  and  thence 
went  over  the  Col  de  la  Seigne  to  les  Motets,  where  we  slept ; 
on  July  13,  crossed  the  Col  du  Mont  Tondu  to  Containines  (in  a 
sharp  thunderstorm),  and  the  Col  de  Voza  to  Chamounix.  Two 
days  only  remained  for  excursions  in  this  neighbourhood,  and 
we  resolved  to  employ  them  in  another  attempt  to  ascend  the 
Aiguille  dArgentiere,  upon  which  mountain  we  had  been  cruelly 
defeated  eight  days  before. 

It  happened  in  this  way. — Reilly  had  a  notion  that  the  ascent 
of  the  Aiguille  could  be  accomplished  by  following  the  ridge  lead- 
ing to  its  summit  from  the  Col  du  Chardonnet.  At  half-past  six,  on 
the  morning  of  the  6th,  we  found  ourselves  accordingly  on  the  top 
of  that  pass.2  The  party  consisted  of  our  friend  Moore  and  his  guide 
Aimer,  Reilly  and  his  guide  Francois  Couttet,  myself  and  Michel 
Croz.  So  far  the  weather  had  been  calm,  and  the  way  easy ;  but 
immediately  we  arrived  on  the  summit  of  the  pass,  we  got  into 
a  furious  wind.  Five  minutes  earlier  we  were  warm, — now  we 
were  frozen.  Fine  snow,  whirled  up  into  the  air,  penetrated  every 
crack  in  our  harness,  and  assailed  our  skins  as  painfully  as  if 
it  had  been  red  hot  instead  of  freezing  cold.     The  teeth  chattered 

1  The  ascent  of  the  Aiguille  de  Trelatete  from  our  camp  on  Mont  Sue  (2§  hours 
above  the  Lac  de  Combal)  and  its  descent  to  les  Motets,  occupied  9J  hours. 
After  quitting  the  lake,  the  route  led  up  the  largest  of  the  ravines  on  the  S.E. 
side  of  Mont  Sue,  and  then  along  the  top  of  the  gently  -  inclined  snow -ridge 
which  was  at  the  summit  of  that  buttress  of  the  Trelatete.  It  then  descended  on  to 
a  branch  of  the  Glacier  d'Allee  Blanche,  through  a  gap  in  one  of  the  minor  ridges  of 
Mont  Sue.  The  course  was  then  straight  up  this  glacier  (a  little  W.  of  N.),  until 
the  ridge  was  struck  that  descends  from  the  summit  of  the  Trelatete  in  the  direction 
of  Mont  Blanc.  This  was  followed,  and  the  highest  (central)  peak  (12,900  feet)  was 
arrived  at  by  passing  over  the  peak  No.  3  (12,782).  It  is  possible  to  descend  from 
the  highest  point  of  this  mountain  on  to  the  Glacier  de  Trelatete.  I  wished  to  adopt 
this  course  in  1864,  but  was  outvoted. 

Mont  Sue  is  a  famous  locality  for  crystals.  We  discovered  several  sparkling,  fairy 
caves,  encrusted  with  magnificent  specimens,  smoky  and  clear.  As  usual,  the 
best  were  injured  before  they  could  be  detached. 

a  The  Col  du  Chardonnet  is  about  11,000  or  11,100  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 


IS6  >'  /.m.u/;/./;s  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  n. 

involuntarily — talking  was  laborioos;  the  breath  froze  [nstantane- 

<»usiv;  eating  was  disagreeable;  sitting  was  impoBBiblel 

We  looked  towards  our  mountain.  Its  aspect  was  not  encou- 
raging. The  ridge  that  Led  upwards  had  a  spiked  ardte,  palisaded 
with  miniature  aiguilles,  banked  up  at  their  liases  by  heavy  snow- 
beds,  which  led  down,  at  considerable  angles,  on  one  side  towards 
the  Glacier  de  Saleinoz,  on  the  other  towards  the  Glacier  du  <  har- 
donnet.  Under  any  circumstances,  it  would  have  been  a  still'  piece 
of  work  to  clamber  up  that  way.  Prudence  and  comfort  counselled 
•■(Jive  it  up."  Discretion  overruled  valour.  Moore  and  Aimer 
crossed  the  Col  du  Chardonnet  to  go  to  Orsieres,  and  we  others 
returned  towards  Chamounix. 

But  when  we  got  some  distance  down  we  were  tempted  to 
stop,  and  to  look  back  at  the  Aiguille  d'Argentiere.  The  sky 
was  cloudless;  no  wind  could  be  felt,  nor  sign  of  it  perceived; 
it  was  only  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  and  there,  right  before 
us,  we  saw  another  branch  of  the  glacier  leading  high  up  into  the 
mountain — far  above  the  Col  du  Chardonnet — and  a  little  couloir 
rising  from  its  head  almost  to  the  top  of  the  peak.  This  was 
clearly  the  right  route  to  take.     We  turned  back,  and  went  at  it. 

The  glacier  was  steep,  and  the  snow  gully  rising  out  of  it  was 
steeper.  Seven  hundred  steps  were  cut.  Then  the  couloir  became 
too  steep.  We  took  to  the  rocks  on  its  left,  and  at  last  gained  the 
ridge,  at  a  point  about  1500  feet  above  the  Col.  We  faced  about 
to  the  right,  and  went  along  the  ridge ;  keeping  on  some  snow  a 
little  below  its  crest,  on  the  Saleinoz  side.  Then  we  got  the  wind 
again  ;  but  no  one  thought  of  turning,  as  we  were  within  250  feet 
of  the  summit. 

The  axes  of  Croz  and  Couttet  went  to  work  once  more,  for  the 
slope  was  about  as  steep  as  snow  could  be.  Its  surface  was 
covered  with  a  loose,  granular  crust;  dry  and  utterly  incoherent; 
which  slipped  away  in  streaks  directly  it  was  meddled  with.  The 
men  had  to  cut  through  this  into  the  old  beds  underneath,  and  to 
pause  incessantly  to  rake  away  the  powdery  stuff,  which  poured 


chap.  xi.     FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE  AIG.  UARGENTIEliE.  237 

down  in  hissing  streams  over  the  hard  substratum.  Ugh!  how 
oold  it  was!  How  the  wind  blew!  Couttet's  hat  was  torn  from 
its  fastenings,  and  went  on  a  tour  in  Switzerland.  The  Hour-like 
snow,  swept  off  the  ridge  above,  was  tossed  spirally  upwards,  eddy- 
ing in  toiwmentes;  then,  dropt  in  lulls,  or  caught  by  other  gusts, 
was  Hung  far  and  wide  to  feed  the  Saleinoz. 

My  feet  are  getting  suspiciously  numbed,"  cried  Iieilly :  "  how 
about  frost-bites  ?  "  "  Kick  hard,  sir,"  shouted  the  men  ;  "  it's  the 
only  way."  Their  fingers  were  kept  alive  by  their  work ;  but  it 
was  cold  for  the  feet,  and  they  kicked  and  hewed  simultaneously. 
I  followed  their  example  too  violently,  and  made  a  hole  clean 
through  my  footing.  A  clatter  followed  as  if  crockery  had  been 
thrown  down  a  well. 

I  went  down  a  step  or  two,  and  discovered  in  a  second  that  all 
were  standing  over  a  cavern  (not  a  crevasse,  speaking  properly) 
that  was  bridged  over  by  a  thin  vault  of  ice,  from  which  great 
icicles  hung  in  groves.  Almost  in  the  same  minute  Eeilly  pushed 
one  of  his  hands  right  through  the  roof.  The  whole  party  might 
have  tumbled  through  at  any  moment.  "  Go  ahead,  Croz,  we  are 
over  a  chasm  ! "  "  We  know  it,"  he  answered,  "  and  we  can't  find 
a  firm  place." 

In  the  blandest  manner,  my  comrade  inquired  if  to  persevere 
would  not  be  to  do  that  which  is  called  "tempting  Providence." 
My  reply  being  in  the  affirmative,  he  further  observed,  "  Suppose 
we  go  down  ? "  "  Very  willingly."  "  Ask  the  guides."  They  had 
not  the  least  objection ;  so  we  went  down,  and  slept  that  night  at 
the  Montanvert. 

Off  the  ridge  we  were  out  of  the  wind.  In  fact,  a  hundred  feet 
down  to  windward,  on  the  slope  fronting  the  Glacier  du  Chardonnet, 
we  were  broiling  hot ;  there  was  not  a  suspicion  of  a  breeze.  Upon 
that  side  there  was  nothing  to  tell  that  a  hurricane  was  raging  a 
hundred  feet  higher.  The  cloudless  sky  looked  tranquillity  itself, 
whilst  to  leeward  the  only  sign  of  a  disturbed  atmosphere  was  the 
frisk iness  of  the  snow  upon  the  crests  of  the  ridges. 


138  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  ohap.  xi. 

We  set  "in  mii  the  l  I i!i.  w  iih  Oros,  Payot,  and  <  lharlet,  to  finish 
off  the  work  which  had  been  cut  short  bo  abruptly,  and  slept,  as 
before,  at  the  Chalets  de  Lognan.  On  the  15th,  about  mid-day,  we 
arrived  upon  the  summit  of  the  aiguille  and  found  that  we  had 
actually  been  within  one  hundred  feet  of  it  when  we  turned  back 
upon  the  first  attempt. 

It  was  a  triumph  to  Beilly.  In  this  neighbourhood  he  had 
performed  the  feat  (in  1863)  of  joining  together  "  two  mountains, 
each  about  13,000  feet  high,  standing  on  the  map  about  a  mile  and 
a  half  apart."  Long  before  we  made  the  ascent  he  had  procured 
evidence  which  could  not  be  impugned,  that  the  Pointe  des  Plines, 
a  fictitious  summit  which  had  figured  on  other  maps  as  a  distinct 
mountain,  could  be  no  other  than  the  Aiguille  d'Argentiere,  and 
he  had  accordingly  obliterated  it  from  the  preliminary  draft  of 
his  map.  We  saw  that  it  was  right  to  do  so.  The  Pointe  des 
Plines  did  not  exist.  We  had  ocular  demonstration  of  the 
accuracy  of  his  previous  observations. 

I  do  not  know  which  to  admire  most,  the  fidelity  of  Mr.  Peilly's 
map,  or  the  indefatigable  industry  by  which  the  materials  were 
accumulated  from  which  it  was  constructed.  To  men  who  are  sound 
in  limb  it  may  be  amusing  to  arrive  on  a  summit  (as  we  did  upon 
the  top  of  Mont  Dolent),  sitting  astride  a  ridge  too  narrow  to  stand 
upon ;  or  to  do  battle  with  a  ferocious  wind  (as  we  did  on  the  top  of 
the  Aiguille  de  Trelatete) :  or  to  feel  half-frozen  in  midsummer  as 
we  did  on  the  Aiguille  d'Argentiere).  But  there  is  extremely  little 
amusement  in  making  sketches  and  notes  under  such  conditions. 
Yet  upon  all  these  expeditions,  under  the  most  adverse  circum- 
stances, and  in  the  most  trying  situations,  Mr.  Reilly's  brain  and 
fingers  were  always  at  work.  Throughout  all  he  was  ever  alike : 
the  same  genial,  equable-tempered  companion,  whether  victorious 
or  whether  defeated ;  always  ready  to  sacrifice  his  own  desires  to 
suit  our  comfort  and  convenience.  By  a  happy  union  of  audacity 
and  prudence,  combined  with  untiring  perseverance,  he  eventually 
completed  his  self-imposed  task — a  work  which  would  have  been 


cii.\r.  xi. 


LABOUR  OF  LOVE. 


239 


intolerable  except  as  a  labour  of  love — and  which,  for  a  single 
individual,  may  well-nigh  be  termed  Herculean.1 

We  separated  upon  the  level  part  of  the  Glacier  d'Argentiere, 
Reilly  going  with  Payot  and  Charlet  vid  the  chalets  of  Lognan  and 
de  la  Pendant,  whilst  I,  with  Croz,  followed  the  right  bank  of  the 
glacier  to  the  village  of  Argentiere.  At  7  p.m.  we  entered  the 
humble  inn,  and  ten  minutes  afterwards  heard  the  echoes  of  the 
cannon  which  were  fired  upon  the  arrival  of  our  comrades  at 
Chamounix.2 

1  To  the  deep  regret  of  his  many  friends,  Mr.  Anthony  Adams-Reilly  died 
suddenly  in  Dublin  on  April  15,  1885,  aged  49.  See  the  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  xii., 
pp.  256-59. 

2  The  lower  Chalet  de  Lognan  is  2i  hours'  walking  from  Chamounix.  From 
thence  to  the  summit  of  the  Aiguille  d'Argentiere,  and  down  to  the  village  of  the 
same  name,  occupied  1 2  J  hours. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THF.    IIi;sT    PASSAGE   OF   THE    MOM  INC    PASS  —  ZEHMATT. 

"A  daring  leader  is  a  dangerous  thing." 

Euripides. 

On  July  10,  Croz  and  I  went  to  Sierre,  in  the  Valais,  vid  the  Col 
de  Balme,  the  Col  de  la  Forclaz,  and  Martigny.  The  Swiss  side  of 
the  Forclaz  is  not  creditable  to  Switzerland.  The  path  from  Mar- 
tigny  to  the  summit  lias  undergone  successive  improvements  in 
these  latter  years,  but  mendicants  permanently  disfigure  it. 

We  passed  many  tired  pedestrians  toiling  up  this  oven,  perse- 
cuted by  trains  of  parasitic  children.  These  children  swarm  there 
like  maggots  in  a  rotten  cheese.  They  carry  baskets  of  fruit  with 
which  to  plague  the  weary  tourist.  They  flit  around  him  like 
flies ;  they  thrust  the  fruit  in  his  face ;  they  pester  him  with  their 
pertinacity.  Beware  of  them ! — taste,  touch  not  their  fruit.  In 
the  eyes  of  these  children,  each  peach,  each  grape,  is  worth  a 
prince's  ransom.  It  is  to  no  purpose  to  be  angry ;  it  is  like  flap- 
ping wasps — they  only  buzz  the  more.  Whatever  you  do,  or  what- 
ever you  say,  the  end  will  be  the  same.  "  Give  me  something,"  is 
the  alpha  and  omega  of  all  their  addresses.  They  learn  the  phrase, 
it  is  said,  before  they  are  taught  the  alphabet.  It  is  in  all  their 
mouths.  From  the  tiny  toddler  up  to  the  maiden  of  sixteen,  then' 
is  nothing  heard  but  one  universal  chorus  of — "  Give  me  some- 
thing; will  you  have  the  goodness  to  give  me  something  '" 

From  Sierre  we  went  up  the  Val  d'Anniviera  to  Zinal,  to  join 
our  former  companions,  Moore 1  and  Aimer.  Moore  was  ambitions 
to  discover  a  shorter  way  from  Zinal  to  Zennatt  than  the  two 

1  Mr.  Adolpbu  W.  Moore,  C.B.,  died  at  Monte  Carlo,  on  Feb.  2,  1887,  aged  46, 
having  only  just  l>efore  been  appointed  Political  and  Secret  Secretary  at  tin-  India 
Office.    See  the  Aljrine  Journal,  vol.  xiii.,  pp.  258-261. 


chap.  xii.  ON  THE  ARPITETTA  ALP.  241 

passes  which  were  known.1  He  had  shewn  to  me,  upon  Dufour's 
map,  that  a  direct  line,  connecting  the  two  places,  passed  exactly 
over  the  depression  between  the  Zinal-Rothhorn  and  the  Schall- 
horn.  He  was  confident  that  a  passage  could  be  effected  over 
this  depression,  and  was  sanguine  that  it  would  (in  consequence 
of  its  directness)  prove  to  be  a  quicker  route  than  the  circuitous 
ones  over  the  Triftjoch  and  the  Col  Durand. 

He  was  awaiting  us,  and  we  immediately  proceeded  up  the 
valley,  and  across  the  foot  of  the  Zinal  Glacier  to  the  Arpitetta  Alp, 
where  a  chalet  was  supposed  to  exist  in  which  we  might  pass  the 
night.  We  found  it  at  length,2  but  it  was  not  equal  to  our  expect- 
ations. It  was  not  one  of  those  fine  timbered  chalets,  with  huge 
overhanging  eaves,  covered  with  pious  sentences  carved  in  unin- 
telligible characters.  It  was  a  hovel,  growing,  as  it  were,  out  of 
the  hill-side;  roofed  with  rough  slabs  of  slaty  stone;  without  a 
door  or  window ;  surrounded  by  quagmires  of  ordure,  and  dirt  of 
every  description. 

A  foul  native  invited  us  to  enter.  The  interior  was  dark  ;  but, 
when  our  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  gloom,  we  saw  that  our 
palace  was  in  plan  about  15  by  20  feet.  On  one  side  it  was 
scarcely  five  feet  high,  and  on  the  other  was  nearly  seven.  Upon  this 
side  there  was  a  raised  platform,  about  six  feet  wide,  littered  with 
dirty  straw  and  still  dirtier  sheepskins.  This  was  the  bedroom. 
The  remainder  of  the  width  of  the  apartment  was  the  parlour.  The 
rest  was  the  factory.  Cheese  was  the  article  which  was  being 
fabricated,  and  the  foul  native  was  engaged  in  its  manufacture. 
He  was  garnished  behind  with  a  regular  cowherd's  one-legged  stool, 
which  gave  him  a  queer,  uncanny  look  when  it  was  elevated  in 
the  air  as  he  bent  over  into  his  tub ;  for  the  making  of  his  cheese 
required  him  to  blow  into  a  tub  about  ten  minutes  at  a  time.     He 

1  The  Col  de  Zinal  or  Triftjoch,  between  the  Trif thorn. and  the  Ober  Uabelhorn  ; 
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. 

2  High  above  the  Glacier  de  Morning  at  the  foot  of  the  Crete  de  Milton. 

2i 


Hi  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap,  xn. 

i lnii  squatted  on  his  Btool  to  gain  breath,  and  took  a  few  whin's  at 
a  short  pipe;  after  which  be  blew  away  more  vigorously  than 
U'foiv.  We  were  t « »1* I  thai  this  procedure  was  necessary,  h 
appeared  to  us  to  be  nasty,  [t  accounts,  perhaps,  for  the  flavour 
possessed  by  certain  Swiss  cheeses. 

Big,  black,  and  Leaden-coloured  clouds  rolled  up  from  Zinal, 
and  met  in  eomhat  "ii  the  Morning  (ilaeier  with  others  which 
descended  from  the  Bothhorn.     Down  came  the  rain  in  torrents, 

and  crash  went  the  thunder.      The  herd-hoys  hurried  under  shelter, 

tor  the  frightened  cattle  needed  no  driving,  and  tore  spontaneously 

down  the  Alp  as  if  running  a  steeple-chase.  Men,  cows,  pigs, 
sheep,  and   goats   forgot   their   mutual   animosities,  and    rushed   to 

the  only  refuge  on  the  mountain.  The  spell  was  broken  which  bad 
hound  the  elements  for  some  weeks  past,  and  the  cirqtu  from 
the  Weisshorn  to  Lo  Besso  was  the  theatre  in  which  they  spent 
their  fury. 

A  sullen  morning  succeeded  an  angry  night  We  were 
undecided   in   our  council  whether   to  advance  or  to  return  down 

the  valley.  Good  seemed  likely  to  overpower  had:  so,  at  5.40,  we 
left  the  chalet  en  route  for  our  pass  [amidst  the  most  encouraging 

assurances  from  all  the  people  on  the  Alp  that  we  need  not  distress 
ourselves  about  the   weather,  as  it  was  not  possible   to  get  to  the 

point  at  which  we  were  aiming].1 

Our  course  led  us  at  first  over  ordinary  mountain  slopes,  and 
then  over  a  Hat  expanse  of  glacier.  Before  this  was  quitted,  it 
WB8  needful  to  determine  the  exact  line  which  was  to  be  taken. 
We  were  divided   betwixt  two  opinions.      I   advocated   that  a 

course  should  he  Steered  due  south,  and   that  the  upper  plateau  of 

the  Morning  Q-lacier  should  he  attained  by  makings  great  detour 
to  our  right.     This  was  negatived  without  a  division.     Aimer 

declared  in  favour  of  making  for  some  rocks  to  the  south-west  of 
the  Schallhorn, and  attaining  tin-  upper  plateau  of  the  glacier  by 
mounting  them.     Croz  advised  a   middle  course,  up  some  very 

1   Moore's  Journal. 


chap.  xn.       FIRST  PASSAGE  OF  THE  MOMING  PASS.  243 

steep  and  broken  glacier.  Croz's  route  seemed  likely  to  turn  out 
to  be  impracticable,  because  much  step-cutting  would  be  required 
upon  it.  Aimer's  rocks  did  not  look  good ;  they  were,  possibly, 
unassailable.  I  thought  both  routes  were  bad,  and  declined  to 
vote  for  either  of  them.  Moore  hesitated,  Aimer  gave  way,  and 
Croz's  route  was  adopted. 

He  did  not  go  very  far,  however,  before  he  found  that  he  had 
undertaken  too  much,  and  after  [glancing  occasionally  round  at  us, 
to  see  what  we  thought  about  it,  suggested  that  it  might,  after  all, 
be  wiser  to  take  to  the  rocks  of  the  Schallhorn].  That  is  to  say, 
he  suggested  the  abandonment  of  his  own  and  the  adoption  of 
Aimer's  route.  No  one  opposed  the  change  of  plan,  and,  in  the 
absence  of  instructions  to  the  contrary,  he  proceeded  to  cut  steps 
across  an  ice-slope  towards  the  rocks. 

Let  the  reader  now  cast  his  eye  upon  the  map  of  the  Valley  of 
Zermatt,  and  he  will  see  that  when  we  quitted  the  slopes  of  the 
Arpitetta  Alp,  we  took  a  south-easterly  course  over  the  Morning 
Glacier.  We  halted  to  settle  the  plan  of  attack  shortly  after  we 
got  upon  the  ice.  The  rocks  of  the  Schallhorn,  whose  ascent 
Aimer  recommended,  were  then  to  our  south-east.  Croz's  proposed 
route  was  to  the  south-west  of  the  rocks,  and  led  up  the  southern 
side  of  very  steep  and  broken  glacier.1  The  part  he  intended  to 
traverse  was,  in  a  sense,  undoubtedly  practicable.  He  gave  it  up 
because  it  would  have  involved  too  much  step-cutting.  But  the 
part  of  this  glacier  which  intervened  between  his  route  and 
Aimer's  rocks  was,  in  the  most  complete  sense  of  the  word, 
impracticable.  It  passed  over  a  continuation  of  the  rocks,  and 
was  broken  in  half  by  them.  The  upper  portion  was  separated 
from  the  lower  portion  by  a  long  slope  of  ide  that  had  been  built 
up  from  the  debris  of  the  glacier  which  had  fallen  from  above. 
The  foot  of  this  slope  was  surrounded  by  immense  quantities  of  the 
larger  avalanche  blocks.  These  we  cautiously  skirted,  and  when 
Croz  halted  they  had  been  left  far  below,  and  we  were  half-way  up 

1  Through  what  ia  technically  called  an  "ice-fall." 


244  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  -hap.  mi. 

the  side  of  the  great  slope  which  led  to  the  base  of  the  ice-wall 
above. 

Across  this  ice -slope  Croz  now  proceeded  to  cut.  It  was 
executing  a  Hank  movement  in  the  face  of  an  enemy  by  whom 
we  ini^ht  be  attacked  at  any  moment.  The  peril  was  obvious. 
It  was  a  monstrous  folly.  It  was  foolhardiiiess.  A  retreat  should 
have  been   sounded.1 

"I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess,"  wrote  Moore  in  his  Journal, 
"  that  during  the  whole  time  we  were  crossing  this  slope  my  heart 
was  in  my  mouth,  and  I  never  felt  relieved  from  Buch  a  load  of 
care  as  when,  after,  I  suppose,  a  passage  of  about  twenty  minutes, 
we  got  on  to  the  rocks  and  were  in  safety.  ...  I  have  never 
heard  a  positive  oath  come  from  Aimer's  mouth,  but  the  language 
in  which  he  kept  up  a  running  commentary,  more  to  himself  than 
to  me,  as  we  went  along,  was  stronger  than  I  should  have  given 
him  credit  for  using.  His  prominent  feeling  seemed  to  be  one  of 
indignation  that  we  should  be  in  such  a  position,  and  self-reproach 
at  being  a  party  to  the  proceeding;  while  the  emphatic  way  in 
which,  at  intervals,  he  exclaimed,  '  Quick  ;  be  quick,'  sufficiently 
betokened  his  alarm." 

It  was  not  necessary  to  admonish  Croz  to  be  quick.  He  was 
fully  as  alive  to  the  risk  as  any  of  the  others.  He  told  me  after- 
wards, that  this  place  was  the  most  dangerous  he  had  ever  crossed, 
and  that  no  consideration  whatever  would  tempt  him  to  cross  it 
again.  Manfully  did  he  exert  himself  to  escape  from  the  impend- 
ing destruction.  His  head,  bent  down  to  his  work,  never  turned 
to  the  right  or  to  the  left.  One,  two,  three,  went  his  axe,  and 
then  he  stepped  on  to  the  spot  where  he  had  been  cutting.  How 
painfully  insecure  should  we  have  considered  those  steps  at  any 
other  time  !  But  now,  we  thought  only  of  the  rocks  in  front,  and 
of  the  hideous  siracs,  lurching  over  above  us,  apparently  in  the 
act  of  falling. 

1  The  responsibility  did  not  rest  with  Croz.     His  part  was  to  advise,  hut  not  to 
direct 


CHAP.  XII. 


A  PERILOUS  PATH. 


245 


We  got  to  the  rocks  in  safety,  and  if  they  had  been  doubly  as 
difficult  as  they  were,  we  should  still  have  been  well  content.  We 
Bat  down  and  refreshed  the  inner  man;  keeping  our  eyes  on  the 
towering  pinnacles  of  ice  under  which  we  had  passed ;  but  which, 

now,  were  almost  beneath 
Without  a  prelimi- 
nary warning  sound,  one 
of  the  largest — as  high  as 
the  Monument  at  London 
Bridge  —  fell  upon  the 
slope  below.  The  stately 
mass  heeled  overas  if  upon 
a  hinge  (holding  together 
until  it  bent  30  degrees 
forwards),  then  it  crushed 
out  its  base,  and,  rent  into 
a  thousand  fragments, 
plunged  vertically  down 
upon  the  slope  that  we 
had  crossed  !    Every  atom 


ICE-AVALANCHE   ON    THE    MOMING    PASS. 


of  our  track,  that  was  in  its  course,  was  obliterated ;  all  the  new 
snow  was  swept  away,  and  a  broad  sheet  of  smooth,  glassy  ice, 
shewed  the  resistless  force  with  which  it  had  fallen. 

It  was  inexcusable  to  follow  such  a  perilous  path,  but  it  is  easy 


146  SCRAM  ISLES  AM'iXCST  THE  ALPS.  OHaP.  m 

bo  understand  why  it  was  taken.  To  have  retreated  from  the  place 
where  Croz  Boggeeted  a  change  of  plan,  to  have  descended  below 
the  reach  of  danger,  and  to  have  mounted  again  by  the  route  which 
Aimer  suggested,  would  have  been  equivalent  tn  abandoning  the 
excursion;  for  no  one  would  have  passed  another  eight  in  the 
chalet  on  the  Arpitetta  Alp.  "  Many,"  save  Thucydides,  "  though 
seeing  well  the  ]n*rils  ahead,  are  forced  along  by  tear  of  dishonour 
— as  the  world  calls  it — so  that,  vanquished  by  a  mere  word,  they 
tall  int<>  irremediable  calamities."  Such  was  nearly  the  case  here. 
No  one  could  say  a  word  in  justification  of  the  course  which  was 
adopted;  all  were  alive  to  the  danger  that  was  being  encountered  : 
yet  a  grave  risk  was  deliberately— although  unwillingly  incurred, 
in  preference  to  admitting,  by  withdrawal  from  an  untenable 
position,  that  an  error  of  judgment  had  been  committed. 

After  a  laborious  trudge  over  many  species  of  snow,  and  through 
many  varieties  of  vapour — from  the  quality  of  a  Scotch  mist  to  that 
of  a  London  fog — we  at  length  stood  on  the  depression  between  the 
Rothhorn  and  the  Schallhorn.1  A  steep  wall  of  snow  was  upon 
the  Zinal  side  of  the  summit  :  but  what  the  descent  was  like  on 
the  other  side  we  could  not  tell,  for  a  billow  of  snow  tossed  over 
its  crest  by  the  western  winds,  suspended  o'er  Zermatt  with 
motion  arrested,  resembling  an  ocean -"wave  frozen  in  the  act  of 
breaking,  cut  off  the  view.' 

Croz — held  hard  in  by  the  others,  who  kept  down  the  Zinal 
side — opened  his  shoulders,  flogged  down  the  foam,  and  cut  away 
the  cornice  to  its  junction  with  the  summit;  then  boldly  Leaped 
down,  and  called  on  us  to  follow  him. 

1  The  summit  of  the  pass  has  been  marked  on  Dufour'a  map  •'!~'.,">  metn 
12,444 

'-'  These  snow -cornices  are  common  on  the  areata  of  high  mountain  ridges,  and 

it  is  always  prudent  (just  before  arriving  upon  the  summit  of  ;i  mountain  or  ridge, 

id  with  the  alpenstock,  that  is  to  say.  drive  it  in.  to  discover  whether  there 

is  one  or  not.     Hen  have  often  narrowly  escaped  losing  their  lives  from  neglecting 

this  precaution. 

These  cornices  are  frequently  rolled  round  in  ■  volute,  and  aometinies  uk>- 
extravagant  forms.     See  page  33. 


THE  SUMMIT  OF  THE  MOMING  PASS  IN  1861 


chap.  xii.  THE  SUMMIT  OF  THE  MOMING  PASS.  247 

It  was  well  for  us  now  that  we  had  such  a  man  as  leader.  An 
inferior  or  less  daring  guide,  would  have  hesitated  to  enter  upon 
the  descent  in  a  dense  mist ;  and  Croz  himself  would  have  done 
right  to  pause  had  he  been  less  magnificent  in  physique.  He  acted, 
rather  than  said,  "  Where  snow  lies  fast,  there  man  can  go ;  where 
ice  exists,  a  way  may  be  cut ;  it  is  a  question  of  power ;  I  have 
the  power, — all  you  have  to  do  is  to  follow  me."  Truly,  he  did  not 
spare  himself,  and  could  he  have  performed  the  feats  upon  the 
boards  of  a  theatre  that  he  did  upon  this  occasion,  he  would 
have  brought  down  the  house  with  thunders  of  applause.  Here 
is  what  Moore  wrote  in  his  Journal. 

[The  descent  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  Col  de  Pilatte, 
but  was  very  much  steeper  and  altogether  more  difficult,  which  is 
saying  a  good  deal.  Croz  was  in  his  element,  and  selected  his  way 
with  marvellous  sagacity,  while  Aimer  had  an  equally  honourable 
and,  perhaps,  more  responsible  post  in  the  rear,  which  he  kept  with 
his  usual  steadiness.  .  .  .  One  particular  passage  has  impressed 
itself  on  my  mind  as  one  of  the  most  nervous  I  have  ever  made. 
We  had  to  pass  along  a  crest  of  ice,  a  mere  knife-edge, — on  our 
left  a  broad  crevasse,  whose  bottom  was  lost  in  blue  haze,  and  on 
our  right,  at  an  angle  of  70°,  or  more,  a  slope  falling  to  a  similar 
gulf  below.  Croz,  as  he  went  along  the  edge,  chipped  small 
notches  in  the  ice,  in  which  we  placed  our  feet,  with  the  toes  well 
turned  out,  doing  all  we  knew  to  preserve  our  balance.  While 
stepping  from  one  of  these  precarious  footholds  to  another,  I 
staggered  for  a  moment.  I  had  not  really  lost  my  footing ;  but 
the  agonised  tone  in  which  Aimer,  who  was  behind  me,  on  seeing 
me  waver,  exclaimed,  "  Slip  not,  sir ! "  gave  us  an  even  livelier 
impression  than  we  already  had  of  the  insecurity  of  the  position. 
.  .  .  One  huge  chasm,  whose  upper  edge  was  far  above  the  lower 
one,  could  neither  be  leaped  nor  turned,  and  threatened  to  prove 
an  insuperable  barrier.  But  Croz  showed  himself  equal  to  the 
emergency.  Held  up  by  the  rest  of  the  party,  he  cut  a  series  of 
holes  for  the  hands  and  feet,  down  ami  along  the  almost  perpen- 


•J  l s  SCH.  I MIU. B8  AMONGST  Til S   .  I  /.  /'.<.  chai-.  I  i i. 

tlicular  wall  of  ice  forming  the  upper  side  of  the  *lirnnd.  Down 
this  slippery  staircase  we  crept,  with  OUT  laces  to  the  wall,  until  a 
point  was  reached  where  the  width  of  the  ehasni  was  not  too  great 
for  us  to  drop  across.  Before  we  had  done,  we  got  quite  accus- 
tomed to  taking  flying  leapt  over  the  schrunds.  .  .  .  To  make 
a  long  story  short;  after  a  most  desperate  and  exciting  stru^le, 
and  as  bad  a  piece  of  ice-work  as  it  is  possible  to  imagine,  we 
emerged  on  to  the  upper  plateau  of  the  Hohlicht  Glacier.] 

The  glimpses  which  had  been  caught  of  the  lower  part  of  the 
Hohlicht  Glacier  were  discouraging,  so  it  was  now  determined  to 
cross  over  the  ridge  between  it  and  the  llothhorn  Glacier.  This 
was  not  done  without  a  good  deal  of  trouble.  Again  we  rose  to 
a  height  exceeding  12,000  feet.  Eventually  we  took  to  the  track 
of  the  despised  Triftjoch,  and  descended  by  the  well-known,  but 
rough,  path  which  leads  to  that  pass ;  arriving  at  the  Monte  Kosa 
hotel  at  Zermatt  at  7.20  p.m.  We  occupied  nearly  twelve  hours  of 
actual  walking  in  coming  from  the  chalet  on  the  Arpitetta  Alp 
(which  was  2£  hours  above  Zinal),  and  we  consequently  found  that 
the  Morning  pass  was  not  the  shortest  route  from  Zinal  to  Zermatt, 
although  it  was  the  most  direct. 

Two  dozen  guides — good,  bad,  and  indifferent ;  French,  Swiss, 
and  Italian — can  commonly  be  seen  sitting  on  the  wall  on  the  front 
of  the  Monte  Ilosa  hotel;  waiting  on  their  employers,  and  Looking 
for  employers;  watching  new  arrivals,  and  speculating  on  the 
number'of  francs  which  may  be  extracted  from  their  pockets.  The 
Messieurs — sometimes  strangely  and  wonderfully  dressed — stand 
about  in  groups,  or  lean  back  in  chairs,  or  lounge  on  the  benches 
which  are  placed  by  the  door.  They  wear  extraordinary  boots,  and 
still  more  remarkable  head-dresses.  Their  peeled,  blistered,  and 
swollen  faces  are  worth  studying.  Some,  by  the  exercise  of  watch- 
fulness and  unremitting  care,  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  acquire 
a  tine  raw  sienna  complexion,  I  Jut  most  of  them  have  not  been  so 
happy.  They  have  been  scorched  on  rocks,  and  roasted  on  glaciers. 
Their  cheeks — first  puffed,  then  cracked — have  exuded  a  turpentine- 


,  hap.  xii.  THE  CLUB-ROOM  OF  ZRRMATT.  249 

like  matter,  which  has  coursed  down  their  laces,  and  has  dried  in 
patches  like  the  resin  mi  the  trunks  of  pines.  They  have  removed 
it,  and  at  the  same  time  have  pulled  oil'  large  flakes  of  their  skin. 
They  have  gone  from  bad  to  worse — their  case  has  become  hope- 
less— knives  and  scissors  have  been  called  into  play ;  tenderly,  and 
daintily,  they  have  endeavoured  to  reduce  their  cheeks  to  one, 
uniform  hue.  It  is  not  to  be  done.  But  they  have  gone  on, 
fascinated,  and  at  last  have  brought  their  unhappy  countenances 
to  a  state  of  helpless  and  complete  ruin.  Their  lips  are  cracked ; 
their  cheeks  are  swollen;  their  eyes  are  blood-shot;  their  noses 
are  peeled  and  indescribable. 

Such  are  the  pleasures  of  the  mountaineer!  Scornfully  and 
derisively  the  last  comer  compares  the  sight  with  his  own  flaccid 
face  and  dainty  hands ;  unconscious  that  he  too,  perhaps,  will  be 
numbered  with  those  whom  he  now  ridicules. 

There  is  a  frankness  of  manner  about  these  strangely- 
apparelled  and  queer-faced  men,  which  does  not  remind  one  of 
drawing-room,  or  city  life ;  and  it  is  good  to  see — in  this  club- 
room  of  Zermatt — those  cold  bodies,  our  too-frigid  countrymen, 
regele  together  when  brought  into  contact ;  and  it  is  pleasant  to 
witness  the  hearty  welcome  given  to  the  new-comers  by  the  host 
and  his  excellent  wife.1 

I  left  this  agreeable  society  to  seek  letters  at  the  post.  They 
yielded  disastrous  intelligence,  and  my  holiday  was  brought  to  an 
abrupt  termination.  I  awaited  the  arrival  of  Eeilly  (who  was 
convoying  stores  for  the  attack  on  the  Matterhorn)  only  to  inform 
him  that  our  arrangements  were  upset;  and  then  travelled  home, 
day  and  night,  as  fast  as  express  trains  would  carry  me. 

1  The  opportunity  is  taken  here  to  introduce  to  the  reader  some  of  the  mount- 
aineers who  might  have  been  seen  at  Zermatt  in  1860-65,  and  a  few  of  the  guides 
who  are  mentioned  in  the  course  of  my  story.  A  Key'  to  tins  plate  is  given  in 
the  Appendix. 

The  description  is  left  unaltered,  though  it  is,  now,  almost  a  picture  of  the  past. 
Our  good  friend  and  host  —  the  'cordial  and  courteous'  Seilcr — -  icd  on  July  10. 
1881,  aged  72. 

2  K 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE   FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE   GRAND   CORNIER. 

"  Ye  crags  and  peaks,  I'm  with  you  once  again  ! 
Methinks  I  hear 
A  spirit  in  your  echoes  answer  me, 
And  bid  your  tenant  welcome  to  his  home 
Again  ! " 

S.  Knowles, 

Our  career  in  1864  had  been  one  of  unbroken  success,  but  the 
great  ascent  upon  which  I  had  set  my  heart  was  not  attempted, 
and,  until  it  was  accomplished,  I  was  unsatisfied.  Other  things, 
too,  influenced  me  to  visit  the  Alps  once  more.  I  wished  to  travel 
elsewhere,  in  places  where  the  responsibility  of  direction  would 
rest  with  myself  alone.  It  was  well  to  know  how  far  my  judg- 
ment in  the  choice  of  routes  could  be  relied  upon. 

The  journey  of  1865  was  chiefly  undertaken,  then,  to  find  out 
to  what  extent  I  was  capable  to  select  a  way  over  mountainous 
country.  The  programme  which  was  drawn  up  for  this  journey 
was  rather  ambitious,  since  it  included  almost  all  of  the  great 
peaks  which  had  not  then  been  ascended ;  but  it  was  neither 
Ughtly  undertaken  nor  hastily  executed.  All  pains  were  taken  t<> 
secure  success.  Information  was  sought  from  those  who  could 
give  it,  and  the  defeats  of  others  were  studied,  that  their  errors 
might  be  avoided.  The  results  which  followed  came  not  so  much, 
perhaps,  from  luck,  as  from  forethought  and  careful  calculation, 

For  success  does  not,  as  a  rule,  come  by  chance,  and  when  one 
fails  there  is  a  reason  for  it.  But  when  any  notable,  or  so-called 
brilliant  thing  is  done,  we  are  too  apt  to  look  upon  the  success 


chap.  xin.  ON  CHOICE  OF  ROUTES.  251 

alone,  without  considering  how  it  was  attained.  Whilst,  when 
men  fail,  we  inquire  why  they  have  not  succeeded.  So  failures  are 
frequently  more  instructive  than  successes,  and  the  disappoint- 
ments of  some  become  profitable  to  others. 

Up  to  a  certain  point,  the  programme  was  completely  and 
happily  carried  out.  Nothing  but  success  attended  our  efforts  so 
long  as  the  excursions  were  executed  as  they  had  been  planned. 
Most  of  them  were  made  upon  the  very  days  which  had  been 
fixed  for  them  months  beforehand;  and  all  were  accomplished, 
comparatively  speaking,  so  easily,  that  their  descriptions  must  be, 
in  the  absence  of  difficulty  and  danger,  less  interesting  to  the 
general  reader  than  they  would  have  been  if  our  course  had  been 
marked  by  blunders  and  want  of  judgment.  Before  proceeding  to 
speak  of  these  excursions,  it  will  not  be  entirely  useless  to  explain 
the  reasons  which  influenced  the  selection  of  the  routes  which 
were  adopted  upon  them. 

In  the  course  of  the  past  five  seasons  my  early  practices  were 
revolutionised.  My  antipathy  to  snow  was  overcome,  and  my 
predilection  for  rocks  was  modified.  Like  all  those  who  are  not 
mountaineers  born,  I  was,  at  the  first,  extremely  nervous  upon 
steep  snow.  The  snow  seemed  bound  to  slip,  and  all  those  who 
were  upon  it  to  go  along  with  it.  Snow  of  a  certain  quality  is 
undoubtedly  liable  to  slip  when  it  is  at  a  certain  inclination.1  The 
exact  states  which  are  dangerous,  or  safe,  it  is  not  possible  to 
describe  in  writing.  That  is  only  learnt  by  experience,  and  con- 
fidence upon  snow  is  not  really  felt  until  one  has  gained  experience. 
Confidence  gradually  came  to  me,  and  as  it  came  so  did  my  par- 
tiality for  rocks  diminish.  For  it  was  evident,  to  use  a  common 
expression,  that  it  paid  better  to  travel  upon  snow  than  over 
rocks.  This  applies  to  snow-beds  pure  and  simple,  or  to  snow 
which  is  lying  over  glacier ;  and  in  the  selection  of  routes  it  has, 
latterly,  always  been  my  practice  to  look  for  the  places  where  snow- 
slopes,  or  snow-covered  glaciers,  extend  highest  upon  mountains.2 

1  See  pp.  157  and  236.  *  See  pp.  182-83. 


>< ■/.'. i. u /;/./•;>  AMONGST  Tin-:  ALPS.  obap.  no. 

It  is  comparatively  Seldom,  however,  that  an  ascent  Of  a  f^rettt 
mountain  can  be  executed  exclusively  over  mow  and  glacier. 
Ridges  poop  through  which  have  to  be  surmounted  In  my  earliei 
seramblings  I  usually  took  to,  or  was  taken  upon,  tin-  summits  (or 
i)  of  the  ridges,  ami  a  good  manv  mountaineers  habitually 
take  to  them  on  principle,  as  the  natural  and  proper  way. 
According  to  my  experience,  it  is  seldom  well  to  do  so  when  any 
other  course  is  open.  As  I  have  already  said,  and  presently  shall 
repeat  more  particularly,  the  crests  of  all  the  main  ridges  of  the 
great  peaks  of  the  Alps  are  shattered  and  cleft  by  frost;  and  it 
not  {infrequently  happens  that  a  notch  in  a  ridge,  which  appears 
perfectly  insignificant  from  a  distance,  is  found  to  be  an  insuper- 
able barrier  to  farther  progress;  and  a  great  detour,  or  a  long 
descent,  has  to  be  made'to  avoid  the  obstacle.  When  committed 
to  an  arete  one  is  tied,  almost  always,  to  a  particular  course,  from 
which  it  is  difficult  to  deviate.  Much  loss  of  time  generally 
results  if  any  serious  obstruction  occurs  upon  it. 

But  it  rarely  happens  that  a  great  alpine  peak  is  seen  that  is 
cut  off  abruptly,  in  all  directions,  from  the  surrounding  snows 
and  glaciers.  In  its  gullies  snow  will  cling,  although  its  faces 
may  be  too  steep  for  the  formation  of  permanent  snow-beds.  The 
merits  of  these  snow-gullies  (or  couloirs)  have  been  already  pointed 
out,1  and  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  observe,  after  that  which  was 
just  now  said  about  snow,  that  ascents  of  snow -gullies  (with 
proper  precautions)  are  very  much  to  be  preferred  to  ascents  of 
rocky  aretes. 

By  following  the  glaciers,  the  snow -slopes  above,  and  the 
couloirs  rising  from  them,  it  is  usually  possible  to  get  very  close  to 
the  summits  of  the  great  peaks  in  the  Alps.  The  final  climb  will, 
perhaps,  necessarily  be  by  a  rocky  arete.    The  less  of  it  the  better. 

It  occasionally  occurs  that  considerable  mountain  slopes,  or 
faces,  are  destitute  of  snow -gullies.  In  that  case  it  will,  very 
likely,  be  best  to  adhere  to  the  faces  (or  to  the  gullies  or  minor 

1  See  pp.  212-14. 


CHAP.  xiii.  ON  CHOICE  OF  ROUTES.  25:i 

ridges  upon  them)  rather  than  to  take  t<>  the  fneU  ridges.  Upon  a 
face  one  can  move  to  the  right  or  to  the  left  with  more  facility 
than  upon  the  crest  of  a  ridge ;  and  when  a  difficulty  is  arrived  at, 
it  is,  consequently,  less  troublesome  to  circumvent. 

In  selecting  the  routes  which  were  taken  in  1865,  I  looked, 
first,  for  places  where  glaciers  and  snow  extended  highest  up  into 
the  mountains  which  were  to  be  ascended,  or  the  ridges  which 
were  to  be  crossed.  Next,  for  gullies  filled  with  snow  leading 
still  higher;  and  finally,  from  the  heads  of  the  gullies  we 
completed  the  ascents,  whenever  it  was  practicable,  by  faces 
instead  of  by  aretes.  The  ascent  of  the  Grand  Cornier  (13,022),  of 
the  Dent  Blanche  (14,318),  Grandes  Jorasses  (13,700),  Aiguille 
Verte  (13,540),  Euinette  (12,727),  and  the  Matterhorn  (14,780), 
were  all  accomplished  in  this  way ;  besides  the  other  excursions 
which  will  be  referred  to  by  and  by.  The  route  selected,  before 
the  start  was  made,  was  in  every  case  strictly  followed  out. 

We  inspected  all  of  these  mountains  from  neighbouring  heights 
before  entering  upon  their  ascents.  I  explained  to  the  guides  the 
routes  I  proposed  to  be  taken,  and  (when  the  courses  were  at  all 
complicated)  sketched  them  out  on  paper  to  prevent  misunder- 
standing. In  some  few  cases  they  suggested  variations,  and  in 
every  case  the  route  was  well  discussed.  The  execution  of  the 
work  was  done  by  the  guides,  and  I  seldom  interfered  with,  or 
attempted  to  assist  in  it. 

The  13th  of  June  1865  I  spent  in  the  valley  of  Lauterbrunnen 
with  the  Rev.  W.  H.  Hawker  and  the  guides  Christian  and  Ulrich 
Lauener ;  and  on  the  14th  crossed  the  Petersgrat  with  Christian 
Aimer  and  Johann  Tannler  to  Turtman  (Tourtemagne)  in  the 
Valais.  Tannler  was  then  paid  off,  as  Michel  Croz  and  Franz 
Biener  were  awaiting  me. 

It  was  not  possible  to  find  two  leading  guides  who  worked 
together  more  harmoniously  than  Croz  and  Aimer.  Biener's  part 
was  subordinate  to  theirs,  and  lie  was  added  as  a  convenience  rather 
than  as  a  necessity.     Croz  spoke  French  alone ;  Aimer  little  else 


:»:»i  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  OHAP.  mil 

than   (Irrman.      Biener  spoke   both    languages,  ami   was  useful  Oil 

that  account;  but  he  seldom  went  t<>  the  front, excepting  during 
the  early  part  of  the  day,  when  the  work  was  easy,  and  he  acted 
throughout  more  as  a  porter  than  as  a  guide. 

The  importance  of  having  a  reserve  of  power  on  mountain 
expeditionfl  cannot  be  too  strongly  insisted  upon.  We  always  had 
some  in  hand,  and  were  never  pressed,  or  overworked,  so  long  as 
wc  were  together.  Come  what  might,  we  were  ready  for  it.  Bat 
by  a  series  of  chances,  which  I  shall  never  cease  to  regret,  I  was 
first  obliged  to  part  with  Croz,  and  then  to  dismiss  the  others; 
and  so,  deviating  from  the  course  that  I  had  deliberately  adopted, 
which  was  successful  in  practice  because  it  was  sound  in  principle, 
became  fortuitously  a  member  of  an  expedition  that  ended  with 
the  catastrophe  which  brings  this  book,  and  brought  my  scrambles 
amongst  the  Alps,  to  a  close.1 

1  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  obliga- 
tion. 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  : — 


chap.  xiii.     FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE  GRAND  CORNIER.  255 

On  June  15  we  went  from  Turtman  to  Z'meiden,  and  thence 
over  the  Forcletta  pass  to  Zinal.  We  diverged  from  the  summit  of 
the  pass  up  some  neighbouring  heights  to  inspect  the  Grand  Cor- 
nier, and  I  decided  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  its  northern  side. 

On  the  16th  we  left  Zinal  at  2.5  A.M.,  having  been  for  a 
moment  greatly  surprised  by  an  entry  in  the  hotel-book,1  and 
ascending  by  the  Zinal  Glacier,  and  giving  the  base  of  our  mount- 
ain a  wide  berth  in  order  that  it  might  the  better  be  examined, 
passed  gradually  right  round  to  its  south,  before  a  way  up  it  was 
seen.2  At  8.30  we  arrived  upon  the  plateau  of  the  glacier  that 
descends  towards  the  east,  between  the  Grand  Cornier  and  the 
Dent  Blanche,  and  from  this  place  a  route  was  readily  traced.  We 
steered  to  the  north  (as  shewn  upon  the  map)  over  the  glacier, 
towards  the  ridge  that  descends  to  the  east ;  gained  it  by  mount- 
ing snow-slopes,  and  followed  it  to  the  summit,  which  was  arrived 
at  before  half- past  twelve.  From  first  to  last  the  route  was 
almost  entirely  over  snow. 

The  ridges  leading  to  the  north  and  to  the  south  from  the 
summit  of  the  Grand  Cornier,  exhibited  in  a  most  striking  manner 
the  extraordinary  effects  that  may  be  produced  by  violent  alter- 
nations of  heat  and  cold.  The  southern  one  was  hacked  and 
split  into  the  wildest  forms ;  and  the  northern  one  was  not  less 
cleft  and  impracticable,  and  offered  the  droll  piece  of  rock-carving 
which  is  represented  upon  page  257.     Some  small  blocks  actually 

1  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  sum- 
mit 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  Cor- 
nier— I  believe,  the  Pigne  de  1' Alice  (11,168  feet)! 

An  attempt  was  made  in  1878  to  climb  tho  northern  side  of  the  Grand  Cornier, 
and  it  was  found  impracticable.     See  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  ix.,  p.  106. 

2  For  route,  see  the  Map  of  the  Valley  of  Zermatt. 


166 


si  ■!:.  1  mi:i.  /•:>'  ,i  moxcs  r  m  /•;  ali  •s. 


CHAP.   Mil. 


tottered  end  fell  before  our  eyes,  and,  starting  others  in  their  down- 
ward course,  grew  into  a  perfect  avalanche,  which  descended  with 
a  solemn  roar  on  to  the  glaciers  beneath. 

It  is  Datum!  that  the  great  ridges  should  present  the  wildest 
forms — not  on  account  of  their  dimensions,  hut  hy  reason  of  their 


PART   OF   THE   SOUTHERN    R1DGR    OF   THE   GRAND   CORNIER. 


positions.  They  are  exposed  to  the  fiercest  heat  of  the  sun,  and 
are  seldom  in  shadow  as  long  as  it  is  above  the  horizon.  They  are 
entirely  unprotected,  and  are  attacked  by  the  strongest  blasts  and 
by  the  most  intense  cold.  The  most  durable  rocks  are  not  proof 
against  such  assaults.  These  grand,  apparently  solid — eternal — 
mountains,  seeming  so  firm,  so  immutable,  are  yet  ever  changing 
and  crumbling  into  dost  These  shattered  ridges  are  evidence  of 
their  sufferings.     Lei  me  repeat  that  every  principal  ridge  of  every 


CHAP.  XIII. 


FROST  AND   FIRE   DO   THE   Wo  UK. 


257 


great  peak  in  the  Alps  amongst  those  I  have  seen  has  been  shat- 
tered in  this  way  ;  and  that  every  summit,  amongst  the  rock- 
summits  upon  which  I  have  stood,  has  been  nothing  but  a  piled-up 
1  it'a})  of  fragments. 

The  minor  ridges  do  not  usually  present  such  extraordinary 
forms  as  the  principal  ones.     They  are  less  exposed,  and  they  are 
less  broken  up ;  and  it  is  reasonable  to  assume 
that  their  annual  degradation  is  less  than  that 
of  the  summit-ridges. 

The  wear  and  tear  does  not  cease  even  in 
winter,  for  these  great  ridges  are 
never  completely  covered  up  by 
snow,1  and  the  sun  has 
still  power.  The  de- 
struction is  incessant, 
and  increases  as  time 
goes  on ;  for  the  greater 
the  surfaces  which  are 
exposed  to  the  practi- 
cally inexhaustible  powers  of  sun  and  frost,  the  greater  ruin 
will  be  effected. 

The  rock-falls  which  are  continually  occurring  upon  all  rock 


PART   OF   THE    NORTHERN    RIDGE   OF   THE   GRAND  CORNIER. 


1  I  wrote  in  the  Athenaeum,  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  IJlanc  may  in  the  course  of  ages  grow  higher,  the  Matter- 
horn  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  Thtodule,  during  the  winter  of  1865,  remarked  that  the  snow  was  partially 
melted  upon  the  rocks  in  their  vicinity  upon  19th,  20th,  21st,  22nd,  23rd,  98th,  -7th 
December  of  that  year,  and  uj>on  the  22nd  of  December  they  entered  in  their  Journal, 
"Nous  avons  vu  au  MalUrlurrn  que  la  neige  ttftnjuii  tur  roches  et  qn'il  sin  t'coulait 
de  I'eau." — Matiriaux  pour  Vitude  des  Glaciers,  vol.  viii.  jiart  i.  p.  246,  1868  ;  and 
vol.  viii.  part  ii.  p.  77,  1869. 

2l 


l'.-.s  80BAMBLE8  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap,  xm 

mountains  (such  as  are  referred  to  upon  ]>]».  31,  85)  are,  of  course, 
caused  by  these  powers.  No  one  doubts  if:  but  one  never  believes 
it  so  thoroughly  as  when  the  quarries  are  seen  from  which  their 
materials  have  been  hewn:  and  when  the  germs,  so  to  speak,  of 
these  avalanches  have  been  seen  actually  starting  from  al>ove. 

These  falls  of  rock  take  place  from  two  causes.  First,  from  the 
heat  of  the  sun  detaching  small  stones  or  rocks  which  have  been 
arrested  on  ledges  or  slopes  and  bound  together  by  snow  or  ice.  I 
have  seen  such  released  many  times  when  the  sun  has  risen  high  ; 
fall  gently  at  first,  gather  strength,  grow  in  volume,  and  at  last  rush 
down  with  a  cloud  trailing  behind,  like  the  dust  after  an  express 
train.  Secondly,  from  the  freezing  of  the  water  which  trickles, 
during  the  day,  into  the  clefts,  fissures,  and  crannies.  This  agency 
is  naturally  most  active  in  the  night,  and  then,  or  during  very 
cold  weather,  the  greatest  falls  take  place.1 

When  one  has  continually  seen  and  heard  these  falls,  it  is  easily 
understood  why  the  glaciers  are  laden  with  moraines.  The  wonder 
is,  not  that  they  are  sometimes  so  great,  but  that  they  are  not 
always  greater.  Irrespective  of  lithological  considerations,  one 
knows  that  this  debris  cannot  have  been  excavated  by  the  glaciers. 
The  moraines  are  htrne  by  glaciers,  but  they  are  born  from  the  ridges. 
They  are  generated  by  the  sun,  and  delivered  by  the  frost.  "Fire,"  it 
is  well  said  in  Plutarch's  life  of  Camillus,  "  is  the  most  active  thing 
in  nature,  and  all  generation  is  motion,  or  at  least,  with  motion  :  all 
other  parts  of  matter  without  warmth  lie  sluggish  and  dead,  and 
crave  the  influence  of  heat  as  their  life,  and  when  that  conies  upon 
them,  they  immediately  acquire  some  active  or  passive  qualities.**1 

1  In  each  of  the  seven  nights  I  jtassed  uj>on  the  south-west  ridge  of  the  Matter 
horn  in  1861-3  (at  heights  varying  from  11,844  to  12,992  feet  ahove  tin-  l.vil  of 
the  sea),  the  rocks  fell  incessantly  in  showers  and  avalanches. 

*  ToOMa't  lvl.  of  1758.  Bacon  may  have  had  this  passage  in  mind  when  be 
wrote,  "  It  must  not  he  thought  that  heat  generates  motion,  or  motion  heat  (though 
in  some  respects  this  be  true),  hut  that  the  very  essence  of  heat,  or  the  substantia] 
s^lf  of  beat,  is  motion  and  nothing  else."  .\ornin  Organum,  hook  ii.  D.v.v's 
Translation. 


.MAi-.  xni.  ro.XTHASTS.  200 

II'  the  Alps  were  granted  a  perfectly  invariable  temperature,  if 
they  were  no  longer  subjected,  alternately,  to  freezing  blasts  and 
to  scorching  heat,  they  might  more  correctly  be  termed  'eternal.' 
They  might  still  continue  to  decay,  but  their  abasement  would 
be  much  less  rapid. 

When  rocks  are  covered  up  by  a  sheet  of  glacier  they  do  enjoy 
an  almost  invariable  temperature.  The  extremes  of  summer  and 
winter  are  unknown  to  rocks  which  are  so  covered  up, — a  range  of 
a  very  few  degrees  is  the  most  that  is  possible  underneath  the  ice.1 
There  is,  then,  little  or  no  disintegration  from  unequal  expansion 
and  contraction.  Frost,  then,  does  not  penetrate  into  the  heart  of 
the  rock,  and  cleave  off  vast  masses.  The  rocks,  then,  sustain 
grinding  instead  of  cleaving.  Atoms,  then,  come  away  instead  of 
masses.  Fissures  and  overhanging  surfaces  are  bridged,  for  the  ice 
cannot  get  at  them ; 2  and  after  many  centuries  of  grinding  have 
been  sustained,  we  still  find  numberless  angular  surfaces  (in  the 
lee -sides)  which  were  fashioned  before  the  ice  began  to  work. 

The  points  of  difference  which  are  so  evident  between  the 
operations  of  heat,  cold,  and  water,  and  those  of  glaciers  upon 
rocks,  are  as  follow.  The  former  take  advantage  of  cracks,  fissures, 
joints,  and  soft  places ;  the  latter  do  not.  The  former  can  work 
underneath  overhanging  masses ;  the  latter  cannot.  The  effects 
produced  by  the  former  continually  increase,  because  they  continu- 
ally expose  fresh  surfaces  by  forming  new  cracks,  fissures,  and  holes. 
The  effects  which  the  latter  produce  constantly  diminish,  because 
the  area  of  the  surfaces  operated  upon  becomes  less  and  less,  as 
they  become  smoother  and  flatter. 

"What  can  one  conclude,  then,  but  that  sun,  frost,  and  water, 

1  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  t^Jie 
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°  Fahr. 

8  See  pp.  130-31. 


2<;<>  SCRAMBLES  AMONOST  nil-:  ALPS.  chap.  edx 

have  had  infinitely  more  to  <lo  than  glaciers  with  the  fashioning  of 
liKiiintain-luiins  and  valley-slopes  |     Who  can  refuse  to  U'lieve  that 

powers  which  arc  at  work  everywhere,  which  have  been  at  work 
always,  which  are  so  incomparably  active,  capable,  and  enduring, 
must  have  produced  greater  effects  than  a  solitary  power  which 
is  always  local  ill  its  influence,  which  has  worked,  co/ii/Hiratirely, 
but  for  a  short  time,  which  is  always  slow  and  feeble  in  its 
operations,  and  which  constantly  diminishes  in  intensity  ? 

Yet  there  are  some  who  refuse  to  believe  that  sun,  frost,  and 
water  have  played  an  important  part  in  modelling  the  Alps,  and 
hold  it  as  an  article  of  their  faith  that  the  Alpine  region  "owes  its 
present  conformation  mainly  to  the  action  of  its  ancient  glaciers"!1 

My  reverie  was  interrupted  by  Croz  observing  that  it  was  time 
to  be  off.  Less  than  two  hours  sufficed  to  take  us  to  the  glacier 
plateau  below  (where  we  had  left  our  baggage) ;  three-quarters  of 
an  hour  more  placed  us  upon  the  depression  between  the  Grand 
Cornier  and  the  Dent  Blanche  (Col  du  Grand  Cornier 2),  and  at 
6  p.m.  we  arrived  at  Abricolla.  Croz  and  Biener  hankered  after 
milk,  and  descended  to  a  village  lower  down  the  valley ;  but 
Aimer  and  I  stayed  where  we  were,  and  passed  a  chilly  night 
on  some  planks  in  a  half- burnt  chalet.3 

1  Professor  Tyndall  "On  the  Conformation  of  the  Alps,"  l'hil.  Mag.,  Sept.  1862. 

2  This  was  crossed,  for  the  first  time,  on  July  27,  1864,  by  the  Rev.  J.  J. 
Hornby  and  Mr.  Philpott,  with  Christian  Lauener  and  Joseph  Viennin.  See 
Alpine  Journal,  vol.  L,  p.  431.  The  pass  is  now  labelled,  on  the  Swiss  Govern- 
ment Map.-..  Col  de  la  Dent  Blanche.     I  prefer  the  original  name. 

3  The  following  details  may  interest  mountain-climbers.  Left  Zinal  (5505  feet) 
2.5  a.m.  Thence  to  plateau  S.E.  of  summit  of  Grand  CoraiiT.  5  b.  26  niin.  From 
the  plateau  to  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  2£  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  tmderiuatk  the  oornioe,  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. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE  ASCENT  OF  THE  DENT  BLANCHE. 


"  God  help  thee,  Trav'ller,  on  thy  journey  far  ; 

The  wind  is  bitter  keen, — the  snow  o'erlays 
The  hidden  pits,  and  dang'rous  hollow -ways, 
And  darkness  will  involve  thee. — No  kind  star 
To-night  will  guide  thee."  .     .     . 

H.  Kirke  White. 

Croz  and  Biener  did  not  return  until  past  5  a.m.  on  June  17,  and 
we  then  set  out  at  once  for  Zerinatt,  intending  to  cross  the  Col 
d'Herens.  But  we  did  not  proceed  far  before  the  attractions  of 
the  Dent  Blanche  were  felt  to  be  irresistible,  and  we  turned 
aside  up  the  steep  lateral  glacier  which  descends  along  its  south- 
western face. 

The  Dent  Blanche  is  a  mountain  that  is  little  known  except  to 
the  climbing  fraternity.  It  was,  and  is,  reputed 
to  be  one  of  the  most  difficult  mountains  in  the 
Alps.  Many  attempts  were  made  to  scale  it 
before  its  ascent  was  accomplished.  Even  Leslie 
Stephen  himself,  fleetest  of  foot  of  the  whole 
Alpine  brotherhood,  once  upon  a  time  returned 
discomfited  from  it. 

It  was  not  climbed  until  1862 ;  but  in  that 
year  Mr.  T.  S.  Kennedy,  with  Mr.  Wigram,  and 
the  guides  Jean  B.  Croz l  and  Kronig,  managed 
to  conquer  it.     They  had  a  hard  light  though  before  they  gained 

1  The  brother  of  my  guide  Michel  Croz. 


LESLIE   STEPHEN. 


ii\-2  BDKAMISI.KS   AMOXGST   THE   ALP&  OHAP.  xiv. 

t In-   victory;   a   furious  wind  and  driving  anow,  added   to  tin* 
natural  difficulties,  nearly  turned  the  scale  against  them.1 

Mi.  Kennedy  started  from  Abrieolla  lietweeil  2  and  3  a.m.  on 
July  18,  1862,  and  ascending  the  glacier  that  is  mentioned  in  the 
opening  paragraph,  went  towards  the  point  marked  3912  metres 
upon  the  map;1  then  twined  to  the  left  (that  is,  to  the  north),  and 
completed  the  ascent  by  the  southern  ridge, — that  which 
hangs  the  western  side  of  the  Schonbuhl  Glacier. 

Mr.  Kennedy  described  his  expedition  in  a  very  interesting 
paper  in  the  Alpine  Journal  (vol.  i.,  pp.  33-9).  His  account  bore 
the  impress  of  truth;  yet  unbelievers  said  that  it  was  impossible 
to  have  told  (in  weather  such  as  was  experienced)  whether  the 
Summit  had  actually  been  attained,  and  sometimes  roundly 
asserted  that  the  mountain,  as  the  saying  is,  still  remained  virgin. 

I  did  not  share  these  doubts,  although  they  influenced  me  to 
make  the  ascent.  I  thought  it  might  be  possible  to  find  an  easier 
route  than  that  taken  by  Mr.  Kennedy,  and  that  if  we  succeeded  in 
discovering  one  we  should  be  able  at  once  to  refute  his  traducers, 
and  to  vaunt  our  superior  wisdom.  Actuated  by  these  elevated 
motives,  I  halted  my  little  army  at  the  foot  of  the  glacier,  and 
inquired,  "Which  is  best  for  us  to  do? — to  ascend  the  Pent 
Blanche,  or  to  cross  to  Zermatt  ? "  They  answered,  with  befit- 
ting solemnity,  "  We  think  Dent  Blanche  is  best." 

From  the  chalets  of  Abricolla  the  south-west  face  of  the  Dent 
Blanche  is  regarded  almost  exactly  in  profile.  From  thence  it  is 
seen  that  the  angle  of  the  face  scarcely  exceeds  thirty  degrees, 
and  after  observing  this  I  concluded  that  the  face  would,  in  all 
probability,  give  an  easier  path  to  the  summit  than  the  crest 
of  the  very  jagged  ridge  which  was  followed  by  Mr.  Kennedy. 

We  zigzagged  up  the  glacier  along  the  foot  of  the  face,  and 
looked  for  a  way  on  to  it.  We  looked  for  some  time  in  vain,  for  ■ 
mighty  bergschrund  effectually  prevented  approach,  and,  like  a 
fortress'  moat,  protected  the  wall  from  assault.     We  went  up  and 

1  See  note  to  pp.  100-1.  3  See  Map  of  the  Valley  of  Zennatt 


THE  BERCSCHRUND  ON  THE  DENT  BLANCHE  IN  1865. 


I  map.  xiv.  ON  BERGSCHRUNDS.  203 

op,  until,  I  suppose,  we  were  not  more  than  a  thousand  feet  below 
the  point  marked  3912  liu-tres;  then  a  bridge  was  discovered,  and 
we  dropped  down  on  hands  and  knees  to  cross  it. 

A  bergschrund,  it  was  said  on  p.  225,  is  a  schrund,  and  some- 
thing more  than  a  schrund.  A  schrund  is  simply  a  big  crevasse. 
A  bergschrund  is  frequently,  although  not  always,  a  big  crevasse. 
The  term  is  applied  to  the  last  of  the  crevasses  that  one  finds,  in 
ascending,  before  quitting  the  glacier,  and  taking  to  the  rocks 
which  bound  it.  It  is  the  mountains'  schrund.  Sometimes  it  is 
very  large,  but  early  in  the  season  (that  is  to  say  in  the  month  of 
June  or  before)  bergschrunds  are  usually  snowed  up,  or  well 
bridged  over,  and  do  not  give  much  trouble.  Later  in  the  year, 
say  in  August,  they  are  frequently  very  great  hindrances,  and 
occasionally  are  completely  impassable. 

They  are  lines  of  rupture  consequent  upon  unequal  motion.  The 
glaciers  below  move  quicker  than  the  snow  or  ice  which  clings 
immediately  to  the  mountains ;  hence  these  fissures  result.  The 
slower  motion  of  that  which  is  above  can  only  be  attributed  to  its 
having  to  sustain  greater  friction;  for  the  rule  is  that  the  upper 
portion  is  set  at  a  steeper  angle  than  the  lower.  As  that  is  the 
case,  we  should  expect  that  the  upper  portion  would  move  quick  r 
than  the  lower,  and  it  would  do  so,  doubtless,  but  for  the  retarda- 
tion of  the  rocks  over  which,  and  through  which,  it  passes.1 

We  crossed  the  l>ergschrund  of  the  Dent  Blanche,  I  suppose,  at 
a  height  of  about  12,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Our 
work  may  be  said  to  have  commenced  at  that  point.  The  face, 
although  not  steep  in  its  general  inclination,  was  so  cut  up  by 
little  ridges  and  cliffs,  and  so  seamed  with  incipient  couloirs,  that 
it  had  all  the  difficulty  of  a  much  more  precipitous  slope.  The 
difficulties  were  never  great,  but  they  were  numerous,  and  made 
l    \<ry  respectable  total   when    put    together.      We    passed    the 

1  Couloirs  are  invariably  protected  at  their  bases  by  bergschrunds.  An  example 
of  a  omloir  with  a  doable  W-rgschrund  is  given  on  p.  812. 


164  SCH.IMIH.KS  AUo.YGST  THE  ALPS.  .hap.  nv. 

beigschrand  soon  after  nine,  in  the  morning,  and  during  the  aezl 
eleven  hours  halted  only  five-and-forty  minutes.  The  whole  of 
the  remainder  of  tin*  time  was  occupied  in  ascending  and  descend- 
ing the  2400  feet  which  compose  this  Bouth-western  face;  and 
inasmuch  as  loot)  fret  per  hour  (taking  the  mean  of  ascent  and 
descent)  is  an  ordinary  rate  of  progression,  it  is  tolerably  certain 
that  the  Dent.  Blanche  is  a  mountain  of  exceptional  difficulty. 

The  hindrances  opposed  to  us  by  the  mountain  itself  were, 
however,  as  nothing  compared  with  the  atmospheric  obstructions. 
It  is  true  there  was  plenty  of,  "  Are  you  fast,  Aimer?"  "  Fes." 
"Go  ahead,  Biener."  Biener,  made  secure,  cried,  "Come  on,  sir," 
and  Monsieur  endeavoured.     "  No,  no,"  said  Aimer,  "not  th< 

—pointing  with  his  baton  to  the  right  place  to  clutch.  Then 
'twas  Croz'e  turn,  and  we  all  drew  in  the  rope  as  the  great  man 
followed.     "Forwards'1  once  more — and  so  on. 

Five  hundred  feet  of  this  kind  of  work  had  been  accomplished 
when  we  were  saluted  (not  entirely  unexpectedly)  by  the  first  gust 

of  a  hurricane  which  was  raging  above.     The  day  was  a  lovely 

for  dwellers  in  the  valleys,  but  we  had,  hum'  ago,  noted  some  Light, 
gossamer  clouds,  that  were  hovering  round  our  summit,  being 
drawn  out  in  a  suspicious  manner  into  Long,  silky  threads.  Oroz, 
indeed,  prophesied  before  we  had  crossed  the  schrund,  that  we 
should  be  beaten  by  the  wind,  and  had  advised  that  we  should 
let  urn.  But  I  had  retorted,  "No,  my  good  Croz,  you  said  just 
now  •  Dent  Blanche  is  best;'  we  must  go  up  the  Dent  Blanche." 

I  have  a  very  lively  and  disagreeable  recollection  of  this  wind. 
Upon  the  outskirts  of  the  disturbed  region  it  was  only  felt  occa- 
sionally. It  then  seemed  to  make  rushes  at  one  particular  man. 
and  when   it   had   discomfited  him,  it    whisked   itseif  away  to  some 

far-off  spot,  only  to  return,  presently,  in  greater  force  than  before. 
My  old  enemy — the  Matterhorn — seen  across  the  basin  of  the 
ZTkfuttgletscher,  Looked  totally  unassailable.    "  Do  you  think,"  the 
men  asked,  "that   yon.  or  any  one  else,  will   ever  get    up  thai 
mountain?"    And  when,  undismayed  by  their  ridicule,  I  stoutly 


chai\  xiv.  ASCENT  OF  THE  DENT  BLANCHE.  265 

answered,  "  Yes,  but  not  upon  that  side,"  they  burst  into  derisive 
chuckles.  I  must  confess  that  my  hopes  sank ;  for  nothing  can 
look  more  completely  inaccessible  than  the  Matterhorn  on  its 
northern  and  north-west  sides. 

"Forwards"  once  again.  We  overtopped  the  Dent  d'Herens. 
"  Not  a  thousand  feet  more ;  in  three  hours  we  shall  be  on  the 
summit."  "You  mean  ten"  echoed  Croz,  so  slow  had  been  the 
progress.  But  I  was  not  far  wrong  in  the  estimate.  At  3.15  we 
struck  the  great  ridge  followed  by  Mr.  Kennedy,  close  to  the  top  of 
the  mountain.  The  wind  and  cold  were  terrible  there.  Progress 
was  oftentimes  impossible,  and  we  waited,  crouching  under  the  lee 
of  rocks,  listening  to  '  the  shrieking  of  the  mindless  wind,'  while 
the  blasts  swept  across,  tearing  off  the  upper  snow  and  blowing  it 
away  in  streamers  over  the  Schonbiihl  Glacier — "nothing  seen 
except  an  indescribable  writhing  in  the  air,  like  the  wind  made 
visible." 

Our  goal  was  concealed  by  mist,  although  it  was  only  a  few 
yards  away,  and  Croz's  prophecy,  that  we  should  stay  all  night 
upon  the  summit,  seemed  likely  to  come  true.  The  men  rose  with 
the  occasion,  although  even  their  fingers  had  nearly  lost  sensation. 
There  were  no  murmurings,  nor  suggestions  of  return,  and  they 
pressed  on  for  the  little  white  cone  which  they  knew  must  be  near 
at  hand.  Stopped  again ;  a  big  mass  perched  loosely  on  the 
ridge  barred  the  way ;  we  could  not  crawl  over,  and  scarcely  dared 
creep  round  it.  The  wine  went  round  for  the  last  time.  The 
liquor  was  half  frozen, — still  we  would  more  of  it.  It  was  all 
gone;  the  bottle  was  left  behind,  and  we  pushed  on,  for  there 
was  a  lull. 

The  end  came  almost  before  it  was  expected.  The  clouds 
opened,  and  I  saw  that  we  were  all  but  upon  the  highest  point, 
and  that,  between  us  and  it,  about  twenty  yards  off,  there  was  a 
little  artificial  pile  of  stones.  Kennedy  was  a  true  man, — it  was  a 
cairn  which  he  had  erected.  "  What  is  that,  Croz  ? "  "  Homme  des 
pierres,"  he  bawled.     It  was  needless  to  proceed  farther ;  I  jerked 

2  M 


166  SC1L I Ml;  I.  E8  A  MONGST  Til  i:  AIM  chap.  xir. 

the  rope  from  Biemer,  and  motioned  that  we  should  go  back.     Be 

did  the  same  to  Aimer,  and  we  turned  immediately.  They  did  imt 
see  the  stones  (they  were  cutting  footsteps),  and  misinterpreted  the 
reason  of  the  retreat,  Voices  were  inaudible,  and  explanations 
impossible.1 

We  commenced  the  descent  of  the  face.  It  was  hideous  work. 
The  men  looked  like  impersonations  of  Winter,  with  their  hair  all 
frosted,  and  their  beards  matted  with  ice.  My  hands  were  numbed 
— dead.  I  begged  the  others  to  stop.  "  We  cannot  afford  to  stop  / 
we  must  continue  to  move"  was  their  reply.  They  were  right ;  to 
stop  was  to  be  entirely  frozen.  So  we  went  down ;  gripping  rocks 
varnished  with  ice,  which  pulled  the  skin  from  the  fingers.  Gloves 
were  useless;  they  became  iced  too,  and  the  batons  slid  through 
them  as  slippery  as  eels.  The  iron  of  the  axes  stuck  to  the  fingers 
— it  felt  red-hot;  but  it  was  useless  to  shrink,  the  rocks  and  the 
axes  had  to  be  firmly  grasped — no  faltering  would  do  here. 

We  turned  back  at  4.12  p.m.,  and  at  8.15  crossed  the  berg- 
schrund  again,  not  having  halted  for  a  minute  upon  the  entire 
descent.  During  the  last  two  hours  it  was  windless,  but  time  was 
of  such  vital  importance  that  we  pressed  on  incessantly,  and  did 
not  stop  until  we  were  fairly  upon  the  glacier.  Then  we  took 
stock  of  what  remained  of  the  tips  of  our  fingers.  There  was  not 
much  skin  left ;  they  were  perfectly  raw,  and  for  weeks  afterwards 
I  was  reminded  of  the  ascent  of  the  Dent  Blanche  by  the  twinges 
which  I  felt  when  I  pulled  on  my  boots.  The  others  escaped  with 
some  slight  frost-bites ;  and,  altogether,  we  had  reason  to  congra- 
tulate ourselves  that  we  got  off  so  lightly.  The  men  complimented 
me  upon  the  descent,  and  I  could  do  the  same  honestly  to  them. 
If  they  had  worked  less  vigorously,  or  harmoniously,  we  should 
have  been  benighted  upon  the  face,  where  there  was  not  a  single 
spot  upon  which  it  was  possible  to  sit ;  and  if  that  had  happened, 
I  do  not  think  that  one  would  have  survived  to  tell  the  tale. 

1  The  summit  of  the  Dent  Blanche  is  a  ridge,  perhaps  one  hundred  yanls  in 
length.     The  highest  point  is  usually  at  its  north-eastern  end. 


CHAP.    XIV. 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 


267 


We  made  the  descent  of  the  glacier  in  a  mist,  and  of  the  moraine 
at  its  base,  and  of  the  slopes  below,  in  total  darkness,  and  regained 
the  chalets  of  Abricolla  at  11.45  p.m.  We  had  been  absent  eighteen 
and  a  half  hours,  and  out  of  that  time  had  been  going  not  less 
than  seventeen.  That  night  we  slept  the  sleep  of  those  who 
are  thoroughly  tired.1 

Two  days  afterwards,  when  walking  into  Zermatt,  whom  should 
we  meet  but  Mr.  Kennedy.  "  Hullo  ! "  we  said,  "  we  have  just  seen 
your  cairn  on  the  top  of  the  Dent 
Blanche."  "  No,  you  haven't,"  he 
answered,  very  positively.  "What 
do  you  mean  ? "  "Why,  that  you 
cannot  have  seen  my  cairn,  be- 
cause I  didn't  make  one!"  "Well, 
but  we  saw  a  cairn."  "  No  doubt ; 
it  was  made  by  a  man  who  went 
up  the  mountain  last  year  with 
Lauener  and  Zurfluh."  "  0-o-h," 
we  said,  rather  disgusted  at  hear- 
ing news  when  we  expected  to 
communicate  some,  "  O-o-h  !  good  morning,  Kennedy."  Before  this 
happened,  we  managed  to  lose  our  way  upon  the  Col  d'Herens ; 
but  an  account  of  that  must  be  reserved  for  the  next  chapter. 

1  The  ascent  of  the  Dent  Blanche  is  one  of  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  olimbing.  There  was,  probably,  very  little  difference 
in  difficulty  between  the  route  we  took  in  1865,  and  that  followed  by  Mr.  Kennedy 
in  1862. 

The  second  ascent  of  the  Dent  Blanche  was  made  by  Mr.  John  Finlaison,  with 
the  guides  Christian  Lauener  and  Franz  Zurfluh,  in  September  1864.  See  the  Alpine 
Journal,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  292-301,  June  1866. 


T.    S.    KENNEDY. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

LOST  ON  THE  COL  D'h£RENS— MY  SEVENTH  ATTEMPT 
TO  ASCEND  THE  MATTERHORN. 

"Oil  !  ye  immortal  gods,  where  in  the  world  are  we?" 

Cicero. 

We  should  have  started  for  Zermatt  about  7  A.M.  on  the  18th,  had 
not  Biener  asked  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  mass  at  Evolene,  a  village 
about  two  and  a  half  hours  from  Abricolla.  He  received  permis- 
sion, on  the  condition  that  he  returned  not  later  than  mid-day.  l>ut 
he  did  not  come  back  until  2.30  p.m.,  and  we  thereby  got  into  a 
pretty  little  mess. 

The  pass  which  we  were  about  to  traverse  to  Zermatt — the  Col 
d'Herens — is  one  of  the  few  glacier-passes  in  this  district  which 
have  been  known  almost  from  time  immemorial.  It  is  frequently 
crossed  in  the  summer  season,  and  is  a  very  easy  route,  notwith- 
standing that  the  summit  of  the  pass  is  11,417  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  sea.1 

From  Abricolla  to  the  summit  the  way  lies  chiefly  over  the  flat 
Glacier  de  Ferpecle.  The  walk  is  of  the  most  straightforward 
kind.  The  glacier  rises  in  gentle  undulations;  its  crevasses  are 
small  and  easily  avoided ;  and  all  you  have  to  do,  after  once 
getting  upon  the  ice,  is  to  proceed  due  south,  in  the  most  direct 
manner  possible.  If  you  do  so,  in  two  hours  you  should  be  upon 
the  summit  of  the  pass. 

We  tied  ourselves  in  line,  of  course,  when  we  entered  upon  the 

1  8ee  Map  of  the  Valley  of  Zermatt.     The  route  taken  upon  June  19  is  alone 
marked. 


chap.  w.  BEWILDERED.  269 

glacier,  and  placed  Biener  to  lead,  as  he  had  frequently  crossed  t  In- 
pass  ;  supposing  that  his  local  knowledge  might  save  us  some  time 
upon  the  other  side.  We  had  proceeded,  I  believe,  about  half-way 
up,  when  a  little,  thin  cloud  dropped  down  upon  us  from  above. 
It  was  so  light  and  gauzy,  that  we  did  not  for  a  moment  suppose 
it  would  become  embarrassing,  and  hence  I  neglected  to  note 
at  the  proper  moment  the  course  which  we  should  steer, — that 
is  to  say,  to  observe  our  precise  situation,  in  regard  to  the  summit 
of  the  pass. 

For  some  little  time  Biener  progressed  steadily,  making  a  toler- 
ably straight  track ;  but  at  length  he  wavered,  and  deviated  some- 
times to  the  right,  and  sometimes  to  the  left.  Croz  rushed  forward 
directly  he  saw  this,  and  taking  the  poor  young  man  by  his 
shoulders  gave  him  a  good  shaking,  told  him  that  he  was  an  imbe- 
cile, to  untie  himself  at  once,  and  to  go  to  the  rear.  Biener  looked 
half  frightened,  and  obeyed  without  a  murmur.  Croz  led  off 
briskly,  and  made  a  good  straight  track  for  a  few  minutes.  Then, 
it  seemed  to  me,  he  began  to  move  steadily  round  to  the  left.  I 
looked  back,  but  the  mist  was  now  too  thick  to  see  our  traces,  and 
so  we  continued  to  follow  our  leader.  At  last  the  others  (who 
were  behind,  and  in  a  better  position  to  judge)  thought  the  same 
as  I  did,  and  we  pulled  up  Croz  to  deliver  our  opinion.  He  took 
our  criticism  in  good  part,  but  when  Biener  opened  his  mouth  that 
was  too  much  for  him  to  stand,  and  he  told  the  young  man  again, 
"  You  are  imbecile  ;  I  bet  you  twenty  francs  to  one  that  my  track 
is  better  than  yours ;  twenty  francs,  now  then,  imbecile ! " 

Aimer  went  to  the  front.  He  commenced  by  returning  in  the 
track  for  a  hundred  yards  or  so,  and  then  started  off  at  a  tangent 
from  Croz's  curve.  We  kept  this  course  for  half-an-hour,  and  then 
were  certain  that  we  were  not  on  the  right  route,  because  the 
snow  became  decidedly  steep.  We  bore  away  more  and  more  to 
the  right,  to  avoid  this  steep  bank,  but  at  last  I  rebelled,  as  we 
had  for  some  time  been  going  almost  south-west,  which  was 
altogether    the   wrong    direction.      After  a   long    discussion   we 


270  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  A  LI'S.  .hap.  \\. 

retained  some  distance  in  our  track,  and  then  steered  a  little  east 
of  south,  hut  we  continually  met  steep  snow-slopes,  and  to  avoid 
them  went  right  or  left  as  the  case  might  require. 

We  were  greatly  puzzled,  and  could  not  in  the  least  tell 
whether  we  were  too  near  the  Dent  Blanche  or  too  close  to  the 
Tete  Blanche.  The  mists  had  thickened,  and  were  now  as  dense  as 
a  moderate  London  fog.  There  were  no  rocks  or  echoes  to  direct 
us,  and  the  guidance  of  the  compass  brought  us  invariably  against 
these  steep  snow-banks.  The  men  were  fairly  beaten;  they  had 
all  had  a  try,  or  more  than  one,  and  at  last  gave  it  up  as  a  bad  job, 
and  asked  what  was  to  be  done.  It  was  7.30  p.m.  and  only  an  hour 
of  daylight  was  left.  We  were  beginning  to  feel  used  up,  for  we 
had  wandered  about  at  tip-top  speed  for  the  last  three  hours  and  a 
half,  so  I  said,  "  This  is  my  advice ;  let  us  turn  in  our  track,  and  go 
back  as  hard  as  ever  we  can,  not  quitting  the  track  for  an  instant." 
They  were  well  content,  but  just  as  we  were  starting  off,  the  clouds 
lifted  a  little,  and  we  thought  we  saw  the  Col.  It  was  then  to  out- 
right, and  we  went  at  it  with  a  dash.  Before  we  had  gone  a  hun- 
dred paces  down  came  the  mist  again.  We  kept  on  nevertheless 
for  twenty  minutes,  and  then,  as  darkness  was  perceptibly  coming 
on,  and  the  snow  was  yet  rising  in  front,  we  turned  back,  and  by 
running  down  the  entire  distance  managed  to  get  clear  of  the 
Ferpecle  Glacier  just  as  it  became  pitch  dark.  We  arrived  at  our 
cheerless  chalet  in  due  course,  and  went  to  bed  supperless,  for  our 
food  was  gone;  all  very  sulky — not  to  say  savage — agreeing  in 
nothing  except  in  bullying  Biener. 

At  7  A.M.  on  the  19th,  we  set  out,  for  the  third  time,  for  the 
Col  d'Hdrens.  It  was  a  fine  day,  and  we  gradually  recovered  our 
tempers  as  we  saw  the  follies  which  had  been  committed  on  the 
previous  evening.  Biener's  wavering  track  was  not  so  bad;  hut 
Croz  had  swerved  from  the  right  route  from  the  first,  and  had 
traced  a  complete  semicircle,  so  that  when  we  stopped  him  we 
were  facing  Abricolla — whence  we  had  started.  Aimer  had  com- 
menced  with    great  discretion;   but   he   kept   on  too    long,  and 


chap.  xv.  SCIENCE  COMES  IN.  271 

crossed  the  proper  route.  When  I  stopped  them  (because  we  were 
going  south-west),  we  were  a  long  way  up  the  Tete  Blanche !  Our 
last  attempt  was  in  the  right  direction ;  we  were  actually  upon 
the  summit  of  the  pass,  and  in  another  ten  yards  we  should  have 
commenced  to  go  down  hill !  It  is  needless  to  point  out  that  if 
the  compass  had  been  looked  to  at  the  proper  moment — that  is, 
immediately  the  mist  came  down — we  should  have  avoided  all  our 
troubles.  It  was  little  use  afterwards,  except  to  tell  us  when  we 
were  going  wrong. 

We  arrived  at  Zermatt  in  six  and  a  half  hours'  walking  from 
Abricolla,  and  Setter's  hospitable  reception  set  us  all  right  again. 
On  the  20th  we  crossed  the  Th^odule  pass,  and  diverged  from  its 
summit  up  the  Theodulhorn  (11,391)  to  examine  a  route  which  I 
suggested  for  the  ascent  of  the  Matterhorn.  Before  continuing 
an  account  of  our  proceedings,  I  must  stop  for  a  minute  to  explain 
why  this  new  route  was  proposed,  in  place  of  that  up  the  south- 
western ridge. 

The  Matterhorn  may  be  divided  into  three  sections.1  The 
first,  facing  the  Z'Muttgletscher,  which  looks,  and  is,  completely 
unassailable;  the  second,  facing  the  east,  which  seems  inaccess- 
ibility itself;  the  third  facing  Breuil,  which  does  not  look  entirely 
hopeless.  It  was  from  this  last  direction  that  all  my  previous 
attempts  were  made.  It  was  by  the  south-western  ridge,  it  will 
be  remembered,  that  not  only  I,  but  Mr.  Hawkins,  Professor 
Tyndall,  and  the  chasseurs  of  Val  Tournanche,  essayed  to  climb 
the  mountain.  Why  then  abandon  a  route  which  had  been  shewn 
to  be  feasible  up  to  a  certain  point  ? 

I  gave  it  up  for  four  reasons.  1.  On  account  of  my  growing 
disinclination  for  aretes,  and  preference  for  snow  and  rock-faces 
(see  Chap.  XIII.)  2.  Because  I  was  persuaded  that  meteorological 
disturbances  (by  which  we  had  been  baffled  several  times)  might 
be  expected  to  occur  again  and  again2  (see  Chaps.  V.  and  VII.) 

1  See  Chap.  IV.  pp.  74-6. 
*  Subsequent  experiences  of  others  have  strengthened  this  opinion. 


■21-2  80MAMBLS8  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  nr. 

3.  Itecause  I  fount!  that  the  east  face  was  a  gross  imposition — 
it  looked  not  far  from  j>erpendicular,  while  its  angle  was,  in  fact, 
scarcely  more  than  40°.  4.  Because  I  observed  for  myself  that  tin- 
strata  of  the  mountain  dipped  to  the  west-south-west.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  say  anything  more  than  has  been  already  said  upon  the 
first  two  of  these  four  points,  but  upon  the  latter  two  a  few  words 
are  indispensable.  Let  us  consider,  first,  why  most  persons  receive 
such  an  exaggerated  impression  of  the  steepness  of  the  eastern  face. 

When  one  looks  at  the  Matterhorn  from  Zermatt,  the  mountain 
is  regarded  (nearly)  from  the  north-east.  The  face  that  fronts  the 
east  is  consequently  neither  seen  in  profile  nor  in  full  front,  but 
almost  half-way  between  the  two ;  it  looks,  therefore,  more  steep 
than  it  really  is.  The  majority  of  those  who  visit  Zermatt  go  up 
to  the  Riffelberg,  or  to  the  Gornergrat,  and  from  these  places 
the  mountain  naturally  looks  still  more  precipitous,  because  its 
eastern  face  (which  is  almost  all  that  is  seen  of  it)  is  viewed  more 
directly  in  front.  From  the  Eiffel  hotel  the  slope  seems  to  be  set 
at  an  angle  of  70°.  If  the  tourist  continues  to  go  southwards,  and 
crosses  the  Th^odule  pass,  he  gets,  at  one  point,  immediately  in 
front  of  the  eastern  face,  which  then  seems  to  be  absolutely  per- 
pendicular. Comparatively  few  persons  correct  the  erroneous  im- 
pressions they  receive  in  these  quarters  by  studying  the  face  in 
profile,  and  most  go  away  with  a  very  incorrect  and  exaggerate  I 
idea  of  the  precipitousness  of  this  side  of  the  mountain,  lu-cause 
they  have  considered  the  question  from  one  point  of  view  alone. 

Several  years  passed  away  before  I  shook  myself  clear  of  my 
early  and  false  impressions  regarding  the  steepness  of  this  side  of 
the  Matterhorn.  First  of  all,  I  noticed  that  there  were  places  on 
this  eastern  face  where  snow  remained  permanently  all  the  year 
round.  I  do  not  speak  of  snow  in  gullies,  but  of  the  considerable 
slopes  which  are  seen  upon  the  accompanying  engraving,  about  half- 
way up  the  face.  Such  beds  as  these  could  not  continue  to  remain 
throughout  the  summer,  unless  the  snow  had  been  able  to  accumu- 
late in  the  winter  in  large  masses;  and  snow  cannot  accumulate 


THE   IMHERHORN  FROM  THE  RIFFELBERC 


chap.  xv.        EASTERN  FACE  OF  THE  MATTERHORN.  273 

ami  remain  in  Large  masses,  in  a  situation  such  as  this,  at  angles 
much  exceeding  450.1  Hence  I  was  bound  to  conclude  that  the 
eastern  face  was  many  degrees  removed  from  perpendicularity ; 
ami,  to  be  sure  on  this  point,  I  went  to  the  slopes  between  the 
Z'Muttgletscher  and  the  Matterhorngletscher,  above  the  chalets  of 
Staffel,  whence  the  face  could  be  seen  in  profile.  Its  appearance 
from  this  direction  would  be  amazing  to  one  who  had  seen  it  only 
from  the  east.  It  looks  so  totally  different  from  the  apparently 
sheer  and  perfectly  unclimbable  cliff  one  sees  from  the  Riffelberg, 
that  it  is  hard  to  believe  the  two  slopes  are  one  and  the  same 
thing.     Its  angle  scarcely  exceeds  40°. 

A  great  step  was  made  when  this  was  learnt.  This  know- 
ledge alone  would  not,  however,  have  caused  me  to  try  an  ascent 
by  the  eastern  face  instead  of  by  the  south-west  ridge.  Forty 
degrees  may  not  seem  a  formidable  inclination  to  the  reader,  nor 
is  it  for  only  a  small  cliff.  But  it  is  very  unusual  to  find  so  steep 
a  gradient  maintained  continuously  as  the  general  angle  of  a 
great  mountain-slope,  and  very  few  instances  can  be  quoted  from 
the  High  Alps  of  such  an  angle  being  preserved  over  a  rise  of 
3000  feet. 

I  do  not  think  that  the  steepness  or  the  height  of  this  cliff 
would  have  deterred  climbers  from  attempting  to  ascend  it,  if  it 
had  not,  in  addition,  looked  so  repulsively  smooth.  Men  despaired 
of  finding  anything  to  grasp.  Now,  some  of  the  difficulties  of  the 
south-west  ridge  came  from  the  smoothness  of  the  rocks,  although 
that  ridge,  even  from  a  distance,  seemed  to  be  well  broken  up. 
How  much  greater,  then,  might  not  have  been  the  difficulty  of 
climbing  a  face  which  looked  smooth  and  unbroken  close  at 
hand? 

A  more  serious  hindrance  to  mounting  the  south-west  ridge  is 
found  in  the  dip  of  its  rocks  to  the  west-south-west.  The  great 
mass  of  the  Matterhorn,  it  is  now  well  ascertained,  is  composed  of 

1  I  prefer  to  be  on  the  safe  side.     My  impression  is  that  snow  cannot  accumulate 
in  large  masses  at  45°. 

2  N 


874 


Si'liAMHI  MIST  THE  ALPS. 


<  ii  \i 


Ki«.  1 


regularly  Stratified  rocks,1  which  rise  towards  the  cast.  It  has  Ijeen 
mentioned  in  the  text,  more  than  once,  that  the  rocks  on  some  por- 
tions of  the  ridge  leading  from  the  < '<»1  ilu  Lion  t<»  the  summit 
dip  outwards,  and  that  fractured  edges  overhang.1  This  is  shewn 
in  the  illustrations  facing  pp.  106  and  114:  and  the  annexed 
diagram,  Fig;  1,  exhibits  the  same  thing 
still  more  clearly.  It  will  be  readily 
understood  that  such  an  arrangement 
is  not  favourable  for  climbers,  and  that 
the  degree  of  facility  with  which  rocks 
can  l>e  ascended  that  are  so  disposed, 
must  depend  very  much  upon  the  fre- 
quency or  paucity  of  fissures  and  joints. 
The  rocks  of  the  south-west  ridge  are 
sufficiently  provided  with  cracks,  but  if 
it  were  otherwise,  their  texture  and  ar- 
rangement would  render  them  unassail- 
able.8 

It  is  not  possible  to  go  a  single  time  upon  the  rocks  of  the 
south-west  ridge,  from  the  Col  du  Lion  to  the  foot  of  the  Great 
Tower,  without  observing  the  prevalence  of  their  outward  dip,  and 
that  their  fractured  edges  have  a  tendency  to  overhang ;  nor  can 
one  fail  to  notice  that  it  is  upon  this  account  the  debris,  which  is 
rent  off  by  frost,  does  not  remain  in  situ,  but  pours  down  in 
showers  over  the  surrounding  cliffs.  Each  day's  work,  so  to  speak, 
is  cleared  away;  the  ridge  is  swept  clean;  there  is  scarcely  any- 
thing seen  but  firm  rock.4 


1  Upon  this  subject  I  refer  the  reader  to  the  valuable  note  furnished  by  Signor 
F.  Giordano  in  the  Appendix 

8  See  pp.  86  and  103. 

s  Weathered   granite   is  admirable  rock    to   climb  ;    its   gritty   texture   giving 
excellent  hold  to  the  nails  in  one's  boots.     Hut  upon  such  metsmorphk  s<  I 
com]>ose  the  mass  of  the  great  j»eak  of  the  llatterhorn,  the  texture  of  the  n><  k  Itself 
is  of  little  <»r  no  value. 

4  I  refer  here  only  to  that  |iortioii  of  the  ridge  whiefa  is  between  the  < '"I  <lu  Lion 


<n\i-.  xv.       STRATIFICATION  OF  THE  MATTh'RHORN.  275 

The  fact  that  the  mountain  is  composed  of  a  series  of  stratified 
beds  was  pointed  out  long  ago.  De  Saussure  remarked  it,  and 
recorded  explicitly,  in  his  Travels  (§  2243),  that  they  "  rose  to  the 
north-east  at  an  angle  of  about  45  ."  Forl>es  noticed  it  also ;  and 
gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  beds  were  "less  inclined,  or  nearly 
horizontal."  He  added,  "  De  Saussure  is  no  doubt  correct."1  The 
truth,  I   think,  lies  between  the  two. 

I  was  acquainted  with  both  of  the  above-quoted  passages,  but  did 
not  turn  the  knowledge  to  any  practical  account  until  I  re-observed 
the  same  fact  for  myself.  It  was  not  until  after  my  repulse  in 
1863,  that  I  referred  the  peculiar  difficulties  of  the  south-west 
ridge  to  the  dip  of  the  strata  ;  but  when  once  persuaded  that  struc- 
ture and  not  texture  was  the  real  impediment,  it  was  reasonable  to 
infer  that  the  opposite  side,  that  is  to  say  the  eastern  face,  might 
be  comparatively  easy.  In  brief,  that  an  arrangement  should  be 
found  like  Fig.  2,  instead  of  like  Fig.  1.  This  trivial  deduction 
was  the  key  to  the  ascent  of  the  Matterhorn. 

The  point  was,  Did  the  strata  continue  with  a  similar  dip 
throughout  the  mountain  ?  If  they  did,  then  this  great  eastern 
face,  instead  of  being  hopelessly  impracticable,  should  be  quite  the 
reverse.  In  fact,  it  should  be  a  great  natural  staircase,  with  steps 
inclining  inwards ;  and,  if  it  were  so,  its  smooth  aspect  might  be 
of  no  account,  for  the  smallest  steps,  inclined  in  this  fashion, 
would  afford  good  footing. 

They  did  so,  as  far  as  one  could  judge  from  a  distance.  When 
snow  fell  in  the  summer  time,  it  brought  out  long  terraced  lines 
upon  the  mountain ;  rudely  parallel  to  each  other ;  inclined  in  the 
direction  shewn  (approximately)  upon  the  figures  in  the  accom- 
panying plate ;  and  the  eastern  face,  on  those  occasions,  was  often 
whitened  almost  completely  over ;  while  the  other  sides,  with  the 

and  the  Great  Tower.     The  remarks  would  not  apply  to  the  rocks  higher  up  (see  p. 
105) ;  higher  still  the  rocks  are  firm  again  ;  yet  higher  I u | " >u  the  '  Shoulder ')  they 
arc  ninth  disintegrated  ;  and  then,  upon  the  final  peak,  they  are  again  firm. 
1  Travels  through  the  Alps,  2nd  ed.  p.  317. 


876  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  rr. 

exception  of  the  powdered  terraces,  remained  black— for  the  Bnow 
could  not  rest  upon  them. 

The  very  outline  of  the  mountain,  too,  confirmed  the  conjecture 
that   its  Btruoture  would  assist  an   ascenl  on    the  eastern   lace, 

although  it  opposed  oik all  other  sides.    Look  at  any  photograph 

•  if  tin-  peak  from  tin'  north-east  (or,  foiling  one,  tin-  outline  facing 
this  page,  which  is  carefully  traced  from  one),  and  you  will  see 
that  upon  the  right-hand  side  (that  feeing  the  Z'Muttgletscher) 
there  is  a  frequent  repetition  of  overhanging  cliffs,  and  of  Blopes 
all  trending  downwards;  in  short,  that  the  character  of  the  whole 

of  that    side    is   similar   to    Kin.   [}  p.   274;   and    that    upon    the    left 

hand  (or  south-east)  ridge,  the  forms,  as  far  as  they  go,  are  Bug- 

gestive  of  the  structure  of  Fig.  2.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
contours  of  the  mountain,  seen  from  this  direction,  have  been 
largely  influenced  by  the  direction  of  its  beds. 

It  was  not,  therefore,  from  a  freak,  that  1  invited  Mr.  Reilly 
to  join  in  an  attack  upon  the  eastern  face,  hut  from  a  gradually- 
acquired  conviction  that  it  would  afford  the  easiest  way  to  the 
summit;  and,  if  we  had  not  been  obliged  to  part,  the  mountain 
would,  doubtless,  have  been  ascended  in  1864 

My  guides  readily  admitted  that  they  had  heen  greatly  deceived 
as  to  the  steepness  of  the  eastern  face,  when  they  were  halted  to 
look  at  it  in  profile,  as  we  came  down  the  Z'MuttgletSCher,  on  OUT 

way   to   Zermatt;   hut    they  were   far   from   being   satisfied    that    it 

would  turn  out  to  he  easy  to  climb,  and  Aimer  and  Biener  ex- 
pressed themselves  decidedly  averse  to  making  an  attempt  upon  it, 
I  gave  way  temporarily  before  their  evident  reluctance,  and  we 
made  the  ascent  of  the  The\)dulhoni  to  examine  an  alternative 
route,  which  I  expected  would  commend  itself  to  them  in  prefer- 
ence   to    the   other,   as   a    -lv.it    part    of   it    led    over   SnOW. 

There   is    an    immense   gully    in    the   Matterhorn,    which   leads 

up  from  the  Glacier  du  Mont  Oervin  to  a  point  high  up  on  the 


THE  MATTERHORN  FROM  THE  SUMMIT  OF  THE  THEODULE  PASS. 


THE  UATTERHORN  FROM  THE  NORTH-EAST. 

THE  SPACES  BETWEEN  THC  PARALLEL  RED  LINES  REPRESENT    ON  AN  AVERAGE    A  VERTICAL   MElOHT   C*  ABOUT 

60  FEET.  BUT,  ON  ACCOUNT  OF  FORESHORTENING.  THC  HEIGHT  BETWEEN  THC  UPPERMOST  LINES  IS  SOMEWHAT 

MORE  THAN  THIS  AMOUNT. 


Ohap.  iv.  WE  TRY  ANOTHER  ROUTE.  B77 

south-eastern  ridge.1  I  proposed  to  ascend  this  to  its  bead,  and  to 
miss  over  tin'  south-east  ridge  on  to  the  eastern  lace.  This  would 
have  brought  us  on  a  level  with  the  bottom  of  the  great  snow-slope 
shewn  upon  the  centre  of  the  eastern  face  in  the  engraving  facing 
p.  272.  This  snow-slope  was  to  be  crossed  diagonally,  with  the 
view  of  arriving  at  the  snow  upon  the  north-east  ridge,  which  is 
shewn  upon  the  same  engraving,  about  half -an -inch  from  the 
summit.  The  remainder  of  the  ascent  was  to  be  made  by  the 
broken  rocks,  mixed  with  sno\fr,  upon  the  north  side  of  the  mount- 
ain. Croz  caught  the  idea  immediately,  and  thought  the  plan 
feasible;  details  were  settled,  and  we  descended  to  Breuil.  Luc 
Meynet,  the  hunchback,  was  summoned,  and  expressed  himself 
delighted  to  resume  his  old  vocation  of  tent-bearer ;  and  Favre's 
kitchen  was  soon  in  commotion  preparing  three  days'  rations,  for  I 
intended  to  take  that  amount  of  time  over  the  affair— to  sleep  on 
the  first  night  upon  the  rocks  at  the  top  of  the  gully ;  to  make  a 
push  for  the  summit,  and  to  return  to  the  tent  on  the  second  day : 
and  upon  the  third  to  come  back  to  Breuil. 

We  started  at  5.45  a.m.  on  June  21,  and  followed  the  route  of  the 
Breuiljoch 2  for  three  hours.  We  were  then  in  full  view  of  our  gully, 
and  turned  off  at  right  angles  for  it.  The  closer  we  approached, 
the  more  favourable  it  looked.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  snow  in 
it,  which  was  evidently  at  a  small  angle,  and  it  seemed  as  if  one- 
third  of  the  ascent,  at  least,  would  be  a  very  simple  matter.  Some 
suspicious  marks  in  the  snow  at  its  base  suggested  that  it  was  not 
free  from  falling  stones,  and,  as  a  measure  of  precaution,  we  turned 
off  on  one  side,  worked  up  under  cover  of  the  cliffs,  and  waited  to 
see  if  anything  should  descend.  Nothing  fell,  so  we  proceeded  up 
its  right  or  northern  side,  sometimes  cutting  steps  up  the  snow 
and  sometimes  mounting  by  the  rocks.  Shortly  before  10  a.m.  we 
arrived  at  a  convenient  place  for  a  halt,  and  stopped  to  rest  upon 

1  Its  position  is  shewn  by  the  letter  F   on  the  right  of  the  outline,  on  p.  115. 
See  also  Man  of  the  Matterhorn  aud  its  Glaciers. 
*  See  p  124. 


84  /:. 1  Ml: 1. IS  AMON^sr  Til i:  . I  Lis.  i  ba p.  i \ , 

some  rucks,  immediately  close  ti»  the  sikiw,  which  commanded  an 

Uent   view  of  the  gully. 

While  the  men  were  unpacking  the  food  I  went  to  a  little  pro- 
montory to  exiiinine  our  proposed  route  more  narrowly,  and  to 
admire  our  noble  couloir,  which  led  straight  up  into  the  heart  of 
the  mountain  for  fully  one  thousand  feet  It  then  tent  towards 
the  north,  and  ran  up  to  the  crest  of  the  south-eastern  ridge.  My 
curiosity  was  piqued  to  know  what  was  round  this  corner,  and 
whilst  I  was  gazing  up  at  it,  and  following  with  the  eve  the 
exquisitely  drawn  curves  which  wandered  down  the  snow  in  the 
gully,  all  converging  to  a  large  rut  in  its  centre,  I  saw  a  few  little 
stones  skidding  down.  1  consoled  myself  with  thinking  that  they 
would  not  interfere  with  us  if  we  adhered  to  the  side.  But  then  a 
larger  one  came  down,  a  solitary  fellow,  rushing  at  the  rate  of  sixty 
miles  an  hour — and  another — and  another.  I  was  unwilling  to 
alarm  the  men  unnecessarily,  and  said  nothing.  They  did  not 
hear  the  stones.  Aimer  was  seated  on  a  rock,  carving  large  slices 
from  a  leg  of  mutton,  the  others  were  chatting,  and  the  firsl 
intimation  they  had  of  danger  was  from  a  crash — a  sudden  roar — 
which  reverberated  awfully  amongst  the  cliffs,  and,  looking  up, 
they  saw  masses  of  rocks,  boulders  and  stones,  big  and  little,  dart 
round  the  corner  eight  hundred  feet  or  so  above  us,  fly  with  fearful 
fury  against  the  opposite  cliffs,  rebound  from  them  against  the 
walls  on  our  side,  and  descend;  some  ricochetting  from  side  to 
side  in  a  frantic  manner;  some  bounding  down  in  leaps  of  a  bun- 
dled feet  or  more  over  the  snow;  and  others  trailing  down  in  a 
jumbled,  confused  mass,  mixed  with  snow  and  ice,  deepening  the 
grooves  which,  a  moment  before,  had  excited  my  admiration. 

The  men  looked  wildly  around  for  protection,  and.  dropping  the 
food,  dashed  under  cover  in  all  directions.  The  precious  mutton 
was  pitched  on  one  side,  the  wine-bag  was  let  fall,  and  its  contents 
gushed  out  from  the  unclosed  neck,  whilst  all  four  cowered  under 
defending  rocks,  endeavouring  to  make  themselves  as  small  as 
possible.     Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  their  fright  was  unreason- 


chap.  xv.  "HAUVE  QUI  PEUTi"  279 

able,  or  that  I  was  free  from  it.  I  took  good  care  t<>  make  myself 
safe,  and  went  and  cringed  in  a  cleft  until  the  storm  had  passed. 
But  their  scramble  to  get  under  shelter  was  indescribably  ludi- 
crous. Such  a  panic  I  have  never  witnessed,  before  or  since,  upon 
a  mountain-side. 

This  ricochet  practice  was  a  novelty  to  me.  It  arose,  of 
course,  from  the  couloir  being  bent,  and  from  the  falling  rocks 
having  acquired  great  pace  before  they  passed  the  angle.  In 
straight  gullies  it  will,  probably,  never  be  experienced.  The  rule 
is,  as  I  have,  already  remarked  (p.  214),  that  falling  stones  keep 
down  the  centres  of  gullies,  and  they  are  out  of  harm's  way  if  one 
follows  the  sides. 


MY  TENT-BEARER— THE  HUNCHBACK 

There  would  have  been  singularly  little  amusement,  and  very 
great  risk,  in  mounting  this  gully,  and  we.  turned  our  backs  upon 
it  with  perfect  unanimity.  The  question  then  arose,  "  What  is 
to  be  done  ? "  I  suggested  climbing  the  rocks  above  us,  but  this 
was  voted  impossible.  I  thought  the  men  were  right,  yet  would 
not  give  in  without  being  assured  of  the  fact,  and  clambered  up  t<» 


M0  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  HIE    l/./'S.  chap.  xv. 

settle  the  question.  In  a  few  minutes  I  was  brought  to  a  halt.  My 
forces  were  scattered:  the  little  hunchback  alqne  was  closely  fal- 
lowing me — with  a  broad  grin  upon  his  face,  and  the  tent  upon  his 
shoulder;  Croz,  more  behind,  was  still  keeping  an  eye  upon  his 
Mbnriwr;  Aimer,  a  hundred  feet  below,  sat  on  a  rock  with  his 
face  buried  in  his  hands ;  Biener  was  nowhere,  out  <  »f  Bight  "  ( '<  one 
down,  come  down,"  shouted  Croz;  "it  is  useless,"  and  I  turned 
at  length,  convinced  that  it  was  even  as  he  said.  Thus  my  little 
plan  was  knocked  on  the  head,  and  we  were  thrown  hack  upon 
the  original  scheme. 

We  at  once  made  a  straight  track  for  Mr.  Morshead's  pass  ' 
(which  was  the  most  direct  route  to  take  in  order  to  get  to  the 
Hornli,  where  we  intended  to  sleep,  preparatory  to  attacking  the 
eastern  face),  and  arrived  upon  its  summit  at  12.30  p.m.  We  were 
then  unexpectedly  checked.  The  pass,  as  one,  had  vanished !  and 
we  found  ourselves  cut  off  from  the  Furggengletscher  by  a  pre- 
cipitous wall  of  rock; — the  glacier  had  shrank  so  much  that 
descent  was  impracticable.  During  the  last  hour  clouds  had  been 
coming  up  from  the  south;  they  now  surrounded  us,  and  it  began 
to  blow  hard.  The  men  clustered  together,  and  advocated  leaving 
the  mountain  alone.  Aimer  asked,  with  more  point  than  polite- 
ness, "Why  don't  you  try  to  go  up  a  mountain  which  can  be 
ascended  ? "  "  It  is  impossible,"  chimed  in  Biener.  "  Sir,"  said  Croz, 
'•  it  we  cross  to  the  other  side  we  shall  lose  three  days,  and  very 
likely  shall  not  succeed.  You  want  to  make  ascents  in  the  chain 
of  Mont  Blanc,  and  I  believe  they  can  be  made.  But  I  shall 
not  be  able  to  make  them  with  you  if  I  spend  these,  days  here, 
far  I  must  be  at  Chamounix  on  the  27th."  There  was  force  in 
what  he  said,  and  his  words  made  me  hesitate.  I  relied  upon  his 
strong  arms  for  some  work  which  it  was  expected  would  be  un- 
usually difficult.  Snow  began  to  fall;  that  settled  the  matter,  and 
I  gave  the  word  to  retreat.  We  went  back  to  Breuil,  and  on  to  the 
village  of  Val  Tournanche,  where  we  slept  :  and  the  next  day  pro- 
1  See  note  to  p.  125. 


CHAR  XV. 


,1   STh'AXdl-:  rUAXCE. 


281 


ceeded  to  Chatillmi,  and  thence  up  the  Valley  of  Aosta  to  Cour- 
mayeur. 

I  cannot  but  regret  that  the  counsels  of  the  guides  prevailed. 
If  Croz  had  not  uttered  his  well-intentioned  words,  he  might  still 
have  been  living.  He  parted  from  us  at  Chamounix  at  the  appointed 
time,  but  by  a  strange  chance  we  met  again  at  Zermatt  three 
weeks  later,  and  two  days  afterwards  he  perished  before  my  eyes 
on  the  very  mountain  from  which  we  turned  away,  at  his  advice, 
on  the  21st  of  June. 


THE   VILLAGE   OF    VAL   TOURNANCHE  (1892). 


2  o 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  VALLEY  OF  AOSTA,  AND  ASCENT  OF  THE  GRANDES  JORA- 

*         "Whan  we  were  boys, 
Who  would  lwlieve  that  there  were  mountaineers 
Di  w-lai>i»'(l  like  hulls,  whose  throats  had  hanging  at  them 
Wnllets  of  flesh?"        ...... 

Si!.\ki:-ii:ai:I'. 

Tiik  Valley  of  Aosta  is  famous  for  its  Bouquetins,  and  infamous 
t-.r  its  Cretins.  The  Bouquetin,  Steinbock,  or  Ibex,  was  formerly 
widely  distributed  throughout  the  Alps.  It  is  now  confined 
almost  entirely  to  a  small  district  on  the  south  of  the  Valley 
of  Aosta,  and  fears  have  been  repeatedly  expressed  in  late  yean 
that  it  will  speedily  become  extinct. 

The  most  sanguine  person  does  not  imagine  that  Cretin  ism 
will  be  eradicated  for  many  generations.  It  is  widely  spread 
throughout  the  Alps ;  it  is  by  no  means  peculiar  to  the  Valley  of 
Aosta;  but  nowhere  does  it  thrust  itself  more  frequently  upon 
the  attention  of  the  traveller,  and  in  no  valley  where  "every 
prospect  pleases,"  is  one  so  often  and  so  painfully  reminded  that 
"only  man  is  vile." 

It  seems  premature  to  fear  that  the  Bouquetin  will  soon  be- 
come extinct.  It  is  not  easy  to  take  a  census  of  them,  for,  although 
they  have  local  habitations,  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  find  them  at 
home.  Yet  there  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  there  are  at  least 
several  hundreds  still  roaming  over  the  mountains  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  valley 8  of  Grisanche,  Kheines,  Savaranche,  and  Cogne. 

It  would  be  a  pity  if  it  were  otherwise.  They  appeal  to 
our    sympathies   as   the   remnants   of  a   diminishing   race.      No 


thai-,  xvi.  THE  BOUQUETIN.  283 

mountaineer  or  athletic  person  could  witness  without  sorrow  the 
extinction  of  an  animal  possessing  such  noble  qualities; — which 
a  few  months  after  birth  can  jump  over  a  man's  head  at  a  bound, 
without  taking  a  run ;  which  passes  its  whole  life  in  a  constant 
fight  for  existence ;  which  has  such  a  keen  appreciation  of  the 
beauties  of  nature,  and  such  disregard  of  pain  that  it  will  "  stand 
for  hours  like  a  statue,  in  the  midst  of  the  bitterest  storm,  until 
the  tips  of  its  ears  are  frozen " !  and  which,  when  its  last  hour 
arrives,  "  climbs  to  the  highest  mountain-peaks,  hangs  on  a  rock 
with  its  horns,  twists  itself  round  and  round  upon  them  until 
they  are  worn  off,  and  then  falls  down  and  expires " ! !  *  Even 
Tschudi  himself  calls  this  story  wonderful. 

Forty-five  keepers,  selected  from  the  most  able  chasseurs  of  the 
district,  guard  its  haunts.  Their  task  is  not  a  light  one,  although 
they  are,  naturally,  acquainted  with  those  who  are  most  likely  to 
attempt  poaching.  If  they  were  withdrawn,  it  would  not  be  long 
before  the  Ibex 'would  be  an  extinct  wild  animal,  so  far  as  the 
Alps  are  concerned.  The  passion  for  killing  something,  and  the 
present  value  of  the  beast  itself,  would  soon  lead  to  its  extermina- 
tion. For  as  meat  alone  the  bouquetin  is  valuable;  the  gross 
weight  of  one  that  is  full  grown  ranging  from  160  to  200  lbs.; 
while  its  skin  and  horns  are  worth  £10  and  upwards,  according 
to  condition  and  dimensions. 

In  spite  of  the  keepers,  and  of  the  severe  penalties  which  may 
be  inflicted  for  killing  a  bouquetin,  poaching  occurs  constantly. 
Knowing  that  this  was  the  case,  I  inquired  at  Aosta,  upon  one  of  my 
last  visits,  if  any  skins  or  horns  were  for  sale,  and  in  ten  minutes 
was  taken  into  a  garret  where  the  remains  of  a  splendid  beast  were 
concealed, — a  magnificent  male,  presumed  to  be  more  than  twenty 
years  old,  as  its  massive  horns  had  twenty-two  more  or  less  strongly 
marked  knobby  rings.  The  extreme  length  of  the  skin,  from  the 
tip  of  the  nose  to  the  end  of  the  tail,  was  1  metre  69  centimetres 
(about  5  feet  7  inches),  and  from  the  ground  to  the  top  of  its  bark 
1  Tsohudi's  Sketches  of  Nature  in  the  Alps. 


L'SJ 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS. 


I  HAP.   W  I. 


had  been,  apparently,  about  77  centimetres.     It  ia  rare  to  meef 

with  a  l><»u<|iu'tin  of*  these  dimensions,  and  the  owner  of  tins  skin 
might  have  Ihhmi  visited  with  several  yeara'  imprisonment  it"  it  had 
been  known  that   it   was  in  his  possession. 


THE    BOUQUET1N. 


The  chase  of  the  bouquetin  is  a  sport  fit  for  a  king,  and  the 
Kings  of  Italy,  for  whom  it  is  reserved,  have  been  too  good  sports- 
men to  slaughter  indiscriminately  an  animal  which  is  an  ornament 
to  their  dominions.  In  1868,  his  Majesty  Yiet<>r- Km  manual 
presented  a  fine  specimen  to  the  Italian  Alpine  Club.  The 
members  banqueted  upon  its  flesh,  and  had  the  skin  stalled,  and 


.hap.  xvi.  HARD  TIMES.  2*', 

set  up  in  their  rooms  at  Aosta.  From  this  specimen  the  accom- 
panying engraving  has  been  made. 

It  is  a  full-grown  male,  about  twelve  years  old,  and  if  it  stood 
upright  would  measure  three  feet  three  and  a  half  inches  from  the 
ground  to  the  base  of  its  horns.  Its  extreme  length  is  four  feet 
seven  inches.  Its  horns  have  eleven  well -marked  rings,  besides 
one  or  two  faintly -marked  ones,  and  are  (measured  round  their 
curvature)  54|  centimetres  in  length.  The  horns  of  the  specimen 
referred  to  on  p.  283  (measured  in  the  same  way)  had  a  length  of 
only  53£  centimetres,  although  they  were  ornamented  with  nearly 
double  the  number  of  rings,  and  were  presumably  of  double  the 
age  of  the  former.1 

The  keepers,  and  the  chasseurs  of  this  district,  not  only  say  that 
the  rings  upon  the  horns  of  the  ibex  tell  its  age  (each  one  reckon- 
ing as  a  year),  but  that  the  half-developed  ones,  which  sometimes 
are  very  feebly  marked  indeed,  shew  that  the  animal  has  suffered 
from  hunger  during  the  winter.  Naturalists  are  sceptical  upon  this 
point;  but  inasmuch  as  they  offer  no  better  reason  against  the 
reputed  fact  than  the  natives  do  in  its  favour  (one  saying  that 
it  is  not  so,  and  the  other  saying  that  it  is  so),  we  may,  perhaps, 
be  permitted  to  consider  it  an  open  question.  I  can  only  say 
that  if  the  faintly-marked  rings  do  denote  years  of  famine,  the 
times  for  the  bouquetin  are  very  hard  indeed ;  since,  in  most  of 
the  horns  which  I  have  seen,  the  lesser  rings  have  been  numerous, 
and  sometimes  more  plentiful  than  the  prominent  ones. 

The  Chef  of  the  keepers  (who  judged  by  the  above-mentioned 
indications)  told  me  that  the  ibex  not  unfrequently  arrives  at  the 
age  of  thirty  years,  and  sometimes  to  forty  or  forty -five.  He  said, 
too,  that  it  is  not  fond  of  traversing  steep  snow,  and  in  descending 
a  couloir  that  is  filled  with  it,  will  zigzag  down,  by  springing  from 

1  Mr.  King,  in  his  Italian  Valleys  of  the  Alps,  says,  "In  the  pair  (of  horns)  I 
possess,  which  are  two  feet  long,  there  are  eight  of  these  yearly  rings."  It  would 
seem,  therefore  (if  the  rings  are  annual  ones),  that  the  maximum  length  of  horn  is 
attained  at  a  comparatively  early  age. 


l>s<;  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  ohap.  m 

one  side  t"  the  other,  in  leaps  of  tilt  v  feet  at  a  time  I  Jean  Tairraz,1 
the  worthy  landlord  of  th<-  Hotel  .In  Mont  Blanc  at  Aosta  who 
had  opportunities  of  observing  tin-  animal  closely),  assured  me  that 
at  the  age  of  four  or  live  months  it  can  easily  clear  a  height  of 
nine  or  ten  feet  at  a  bound!1  Long  life  to  the  Bouquetinl  but 
down   with  the  Cretin  ! 

The  extreme  form  of  idiocy  which  is  called  Cretinism'1  is  so 
highly  developed  in  the  Valley  of  Aosta,  and  the  natives  are  so 
familiarised  with  it,  that  they  are  almost  indignant  when  the  sur- 
prised traveller  remarks  its  frequency.  Cue  is  continually  reminded 
by  them  that  the  disease  is  not  peculiar  to  the  valley,  and  that 
there  are  cretins  elsewhere.  It  is  true  that  this  terrible  scourge  is 
wide-spread  throughout  the  Alps  and  over  the  world,  and  that 
there  are  places  where  the  proportion  of  cretins  to  population  is*, 
or  has  been,  even  greater  than  in  the  Valley  of  Aosta;  but  one 
seldom  sees  a  valley  so  fertile  and  so  charming,  one  which — apart 
from  cretinism  —  leaves  so  agreeable  an  impression  upon  the 
wayfarer,  where  equal  numbers  of  individuals  are  reduced  to  a 
condition  which  any  respectable  ape  might  despise. 

The  whole  subject  of  cretinism  is  surrounded  with  difficulty. 
The  number  of  those  who  are  afflicted  by  it  is  unknown ;  its  cure 
is  doubtful;  and  its  origin  is  mysterious.  It  has  puzzled  acute 
observers,  and  every  general  statement  in  regard  to  it  must  be 
fenced  by  qualifications. 

It  is  tolerably  certain,  however,  that  the  centre  of  its  distribu- 

1  Jean  Tairraz  was  the  leading  guide  of  the  late  Alhert  Smith  on  his  celebrated 
ascent  of  Mont  Blanc. 

1  In  the  autumn  of  1892,  a  young  Bouquetin  (supposed  to  l>e  about  three  months 
old)  was  captured  alive  near  .Mont  Collon,  and  was  subsequently  bought  by  M. 
Joseph  Seiler,  who  kept  it  in  the  garden  of  the  Mont  Cervin  hotel,  at  Zcrmatt. 
This  little  animal  roamed  about  freely,  but  did  not  display  extraordinary  agility. 

*  "Cretinism  may  be  looked  upon  as  beiug  tlie  highest  stage  of  Idiocy,  although 
it  dilfers  from  it,  in  having  a  vitiated  state  of  the  body,  in  conjunction  with  the  less 
of  the  faculties  of  the  mind.  Thus  it  is  comj>o8ed  of  two  distinct  elements, — the 
one,  Idiocy,  the  other,  bad  habit  o'f  body." — Blackie,  On  0  p.  6. 


CHAP.   XVI. 


ON  GRATIS  ISM. 


287 


tion  in  the  Valley  of  Aostu  is  about  the  centre  of  tin-  valley.  The 
city  of  Aosta  itself  may  he  regarded  as  its  head -quarters.  It  is 
there,  and  in  the  neighbouring  towns  of  Gignod,  Villeneuve, 
St.  Vincent,  and  Verrex,  and  in  the  villages  and  upon  the  high- 
road between  those  places,  that  these  distorted,  mindless  beings 
commonly  excite  one's  disgust  by  their  hideous,  loathsome,  and 
uncouth  appearance,  by  their  obscene  gestures,  and  by  their  sense- 
less gabbling.  The  accom- 
panying portrait  of  one  is 
by  no  means  overdrawn — 
some  are  too  frightful  for 
representation. 

How  can  we  account  for 
this  particular  intensity  to- 
wards the  middle  of  the 
valley  ?  Why  is  it  that 
cretins  become  more  and 
more  numerous  after  Ivrea 
is  passed,  attain  their  high- 
est ratio  and  lowest  degrada- 
tion at  or  about  the  chief 
town  of  the  valley,  and  then 
diminish  in  numbers  as  its 
upper  termination  is  ap- 
proached ?  This  maximum 
of  intensity  must  certainly  point  to  a  cause,  or  to  -a  combination  of 
causes,  operating  about  Aosta,  which  are  less  powerful  at  the 
two  extremities  of  the  valley;  and  if  the  reason  for  it  could 
be  determined,  the  springs  of  cretinism  might  be  exposed. 

The  disease  would  be  even  more  puzzling  than  it  is  if  it  were 
confined  to  this  single  locality,  and  the  inquirer  were  to  find  not 
merely  that  it  was  almost  unknown  upon  the  plains  to  the  east 
and  in  the  districts  to  the  west,  but  that  the  valleys  radiating 
north  and  south  from  the  main  valley  were  practically  unaffected 


A   CRETIN    OF    AOSTA. 


l'ss  HAMULUS  AMONGST  THE   A  LI'S.  char  m  i 

by  it.     K«»r  it  is  i  remarkable  eircamBtanoe,  which  has  attracted 

tin-  notice  of  all  who  have  paid  attention  to  <n'tinism,  thai  tin- 
natives  of  the  tributary  valleys  arc  almost  free  from  the  malady  ; 
— that  people  of  the  same  race,  speaking  the  same  language, 
breathing  the  same  air,  eating  the  same  food,  and  living  the  saint- 
life,  enjoy  almost  entire  immunity  from  it,  while,  at  the  distance  of 
a  very  few  miles,  thousands  of  others  are  completely  in  its  power. 

A  parallel  case  is  found,  however,  on  the  other  side  of 
tin-  Ten  nine  Alps.  The  Rhone  valley  is  also  disfigured  by 
cretinism,  and  in  it,  too,  the  extremities  of  the  valley  are  slightly 
affected  compared  with  the  intermediate  districts — particularly 
those  between  Brieg  and  St.  Maurice.1  This  second  example 
strengthens  the  opinion  that  the  great  development  of  cretinism 
in  the  middle  of  the  Valley  of  Aosta  is  not  the  result  of 
accidental  circumstances. 

It  was  formerly  supposed  that  cretinism  arose  from  the 
habitual  drinking  of  snow  and  glacier  water.  De  Saussure  opposed 
to  this  conjecture  the  facts,  that  the  disease  was  entirely  unknown 
precisely  in  those  places  where  the  inhabitants  were  most  de- 
pendent upon  these  kinds  of  water,  and  that  it  was  most  common 
where  such  was  not  the  case ; — that  the  high  valleys  were 
untainted,  while  the  low  ones  were  infected.2  The  notion  seems 
to  have  proceeded  from  cretins  being  confounded  with  persons 
who  were  merely  goitred;  or,  at  least,  from  the  supposition  that 
goitre  was  an  incipient  stage  of  cretinism. 

Goitre,  it  is  now  well  ascertained,  is  induced  by  the  use  of 
chemically  impure  water,  and  especially  hard  water;  and  the  in- 
vestigations of  various  observers  have  discovered  that  goitre  has  an 
intimate  connection  with  certain  geological  formations.'1     In  har- 

1  It  was  stated  a  few  years  ago  that  one  in  twenty-five  of  the  natives  of  the 
Canton  Valais  (which  is  chiefly  occupied  hy  the  valley  of  the  upper  Rhone)  were 
cretins.  This  would  give  ahout  3500  to  the  canton.  At  the  same  time  the  valley 
of  Aosta  contained  about  2000  cn'tins. 

1  Voyages  dans  It*  Alpes,  §  1088. 

*  Dr.  Moflat  communicated  a  paper  on  this  subject  at  the  1870  meeting  of  the 


chap.  xvi.  ON  GOITRE.  Ml 

liiuiiv  with  these  facts,  it  is  found  that  infants  are  seldom  born 
with  goitres,  but  that  they  develop  as  the  child  grows  up ;  that 
they  will  sometimes  appear  and  disappear  from  mere  change  of 
locality;1   and  that  it  is  possible  to  produce  them  intentionally. 

It  is  not  so  certain  that  the  causes  which  produce  goitre  should 
be  regarded  as  causes  of  the  production  or  maintenance  of  cretinism. 
It  is  true  that  cretins  are  very  generally  goitrous,  but  it  is  also 
true  that  there  are  tens  of  thousands  of  goitrous  persons  who  are 
entirely  free  from  all  traces  of  cretinism.  Not  only  so,  but  that 
there  are  districts  in  the  Alps,  and  outside  of  them  (even  in  our 
own  country),  where  goitre  is  not  rare,  but  where  the  cretin  is 
unknown.  Still,  regarding  the  evil  state  of  body  which  leads 
to  goitre  as  being,  possibly,  in  alliance  with  cretinism,  it  will  not 
be  irrelevant  to  give  the  former  disease  a  little  more  attention 
before  continuing  the  consideration  of  the  main  subject. 

In  this  country  the  possession  of  a  goitre  is  considered  a  mis- 
fortune rather  than  otherwise,  and  individuals  who  are  aftiicted 
with  these  appendages  attempt  to  conceal  their  shame.  In  the 
Alps  it  is  quite  the  reverse.  In  France,  Italy,  and  Switzerland, 
it  is  an  advantage  to  be  goitred,  as  it  secures  exemption  from 
military  service.  A  goitre  is  a  thing  to  be  prized,  exhibited, 
preserved — it  is  worth  so  much  hard  cash ;  and  it  is  an  unques- 
tionable fact  that  the  perpetuation  of  the  great  goitrous  family 
is  assisted  by  this  very  circumstance. 

When  Savoy  was  annexed  to  France,  the  administration  took 
stock  of  the  resources  of  its  new  territory,  and  soon  discovered 
that,  although  the  acres  were  many,  the  conscripts  would  be  few. 

British  Association  at  Liverpool,  in  which  he  stated  lie  had  ascertained  that  in 
a  Carboniferous  district  goitre  was  prevalent,  and  that  it  was  absent  on  New  Bad 
Sandstone. 

1  Goitre  is  endemic  at  Briancon,  and  frequently  affects,  temporarily,  the  soldiers 
who  are  stationed  in  that  fortress.  Chabrand  (a  doctor  of  Briancon)  says  that  n<>  Imb 
than  one  in  twenty-five  of  the  men  of  the  34th  regiment  of  infantry,  who  were  in  garri- 
son in  1857,  became  goitrous  during  their  stay.  This  regiment  came  from  lVrpignan, 
where  the  disease  is  not  common. — Gotlre  et  OHUmbme  mdtmifU*,  Paris,  1864.  p.  .'.'>. 

2p 


MO  HAMm.ES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  CHAP,  wr 

The  government  bestirred  itself  t<»  amend  this  itate  of  affairs,  and 

after  arriving  at  the  conclusion  thai  goitre  was  produced  by  drink- 
ing bad  water  (and  that  its  production  was  promoted  by  sottish 
and   bestial  habits),  took   measures  t<>  cleanse  the  villages,   to 

analyse  the  waters  (in  order  t«»  point  out  those  which  should  not 
be  drunk  .  and  to  give  to  children  who  came  to  school  lozi 
containing  small  doses  of  iodine.  It  is  said  that  out  of  5000 
goitrous  children  who  were  so  treated  in  the  course  of  eight  years, 
2000  were  cured,  and  the  condition  of  2000  others  was  improved  : 
and  that  the  number  of  cures  would  have  been  greater  if  the 
parents  "  had  not  opposed  the  care  of  the  government,  in  or<f< ,  U> 
l>r<*  rrr  fhr  j>riri/c(/c  of  arm  jit  ion  from  military  service."1  These 
benighted  creatures  refused  the  Marshal's  b&tqn  and  preferred 
their  'wallets  of  flesh"!2 

No  wonder  that  the  Prcfet  for  Haute -Savoie  proposes  that 
goitrous  persons  shall  no  longer  be  privileged.  Let  him  go  farther, 
and  obtain  a  decree  that  all  of  them  capable  of  bearing  arms  shall 
be  immediately  drafted  into  the  army.  Let  them  be  formed  into 
regiments  by  themselves,  brigaded  together,  and  commanded  by 
cretins.     Think  what  esprit  dc  corps  they  would  have  !     Who  could 

1  The  substance  of  this  paragraph  is  taken  from  the  BoUettvuo  <></  Vluh  Alpine 
Ita/i.nm.   No.    13,   1869. 

'-'  l.lackie  says  that  "Dr.  Mottard  mentions  the  case  of  a  so-called  gottre  well 
near  St.  Julian  in  Mauricnne,  the  water  of  which  encrusted  the  trees  in  the  vicinity 
witli  lime,  and  the  use  of  which  produced  goitre  in  a  couple  of  months;  ami  be 
mention*  Bve  young  men  who  had  voluntarily  drunk  its  water,  and  produced  goitre, 
in  order  to  l>c  free  from  military  service." 

Chabrand,  in  the  pamphlet  already  quoted,  says,  "It  is  deplorable  thai  young 

people  who  have  a  swelling  of  the  thyroid  gland  (in  the  l'«i -iain-oiinaisi.  far  from  en 
deaTonring  to  gat  rid  of  it,  occupy  themselves  only  with  making  it  bigger,  in  order 
to  escape  military  service.  Especially  as  the  time  of  thawing  for  the  conscription 
approaches,  do  they  use  every  means  snpposed  to  be  capable  of  producing  gottre  : 
drink  much  water,  take  l comma'  with  burdens"  (<>n  their  heads!)  "and  tighten  the 
cravat  above  the  swelling.  .  .  .  From  1842  to  is  17  inclusive,  01  in  1000  ob- 
tained  exemption  on  account  of  goitre  in  the  Department  of  the  High  Alps."  The 
MOM  writer  placed  the  number  of  goitrous  |>crsons  in  France  at  h'0,000,  and  of 
.  i.  tins  at  35,000  to  40,000. 


OHAP.xvi.  SUPPOSED  ( 'A USES  OF  CRETINISM.  291 

stand  against  them  ?  Who  would  understand  their  tactics  '.  Be 
would  save  his  iodine,  and  would  render  an  act  of  justice  to  the 
non-goitred  population.  The  subject  is  worthy  of  serious  atten- 
tion. If  goitre  is  really  an  ally  of  cretinism,  the  sooner  it  is 
eradicated  the  better.1 

De  Saussure  put  forward  heat  and  stagnation  of  air  as  causes 
of  cretinism  in  the  place  of  badness  of  water.  But  this  was  only 
giving  up  one  unsatisfactory  explanation  for  another  equally  un- 
tenable; and  since  there  are  places  far  hotter  and  with  pernicious 
atmospheres  where  the  disease  is  unknown,  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  are  situations  in  which  it  is  common  where  the  heat  is 
not  excessive,  and  which  enjoy  a  freely  circulating  atmosphere,  his 
assumption  may  be  set  aside  as  insufficient  to  account  for  the 
cretinism  of  the  Valley  of  Aosta.2  And  in  regard  to  its  particular 
case,  it  may  be  questioned  whether  there  is  anything  more  than  an 
imaginary  stagnation  of  air.  For  my  own  part,  I  attribute  the  op- 
pression which  strangers  say  they  feel,  in  the  middle  of  the  valley, 
not  to  stagnation  of  air  but  to  absence  of  shadow,  in  consequence 
of  the  valley's  course  being  east  to  west ;  and  believe,  that  if  the 
force  of  the  wind  were  observed  and  estimated  according  to  the 
methods  in  common  use,  it  would  be  found  that  there  is  no  defi- 
ciency of  motion  in  the  air  throughout  the  entire  year.  Several 
towns  and  villages,  moreover,  where  cretins  are  most  numerous,  are 
placed  at  the  entrances  of  valleys  and  upon  elevated  slopes,  with 
abundant  natural  facilities  for  drainage — free  from  malaria,  which 

1  "Goitrous  persons,  exempt  from  military  service,  remain  in  their  native  dis- 
tricts, marry,  and  thus  cause  the  disease  to  become  hereditary.  If,  on  the  contrary. 
they  were  drawn,  and  were  sent  into  untainted  departments  (particularly  those  upon 
the  sea-coast),  they  would  return  perfectly  cured  at  the  expiration  of  their  term  of 
scrviic.  Further,  if  goitrous  persons  were  not  exempt,  a  greater  number  of  healthy 
individuals  would  remain  at  home,  would  marry,  and  woidd  become  parents  of  sound 
and  vigorous  children." — Guy  and  Dagaud. 

a  I  am  told  (in  1893)  that  cretinism  has  diminished  in  the  Valley  of  Aosta  of  late 
years,  and  that  the  opinion  is  still  entertained  that  bad  ventilation  and  want  of  air 
have  much  to  do  with  the  disease. 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap,  m 

has  been  suggested  as  accounting  f or  the  cretinism  of  tit*-  Rhone 

valley. 

Others   have   imagined  that  intemperance,1  j>< ►< »r  Living,  fool 

habits,  and  personal  uneleanliness,  sow  the  seeds  of  cretinism,  ami 
this  opinion  is  entitled  to  consideration,  [ntemperance  of  diven 
kinds  is  fruitful  in  the  production  of  insanity,1  and  herding 
together  in  filthy  dwellings,  with  little  or  no  ventilation, may  pos- ' 
sihlv  deteriorate  physique,  as  much  as  extreme  indulgence  may  the 
mind.  These  ideas  are  popularly  entertained  because  cretins  are 
more  numerous  amongst  the  lower  orders  than  in  the  well-to-do 
classes.  Yet  they  must,  each  and  all,  be  regarded  as  inadequate  to 
account  for  the  disease,  still  less  to  explain  its  excess  in  the  centre 
of  the  valley.  For  in  these  respects  there  is  little  or  no  distinction 
between  it,  the  two  extremities,  and  the  neighbouring  districts. 

A  conjecture   remains  to   be  considered  regarding  the  origin 

of  cretinism,  which   is  floating   in    the  minds  of  many  persons 

although    it    is    seldom   expressed),   which   carries   with    it    an 

air  of  probability  that   is   wanting   in   the   other  explanations, 

and  which  is  supported  by  admitted  facts. 

The  fertility  of  the  Valley  of  Aosta  is  proverbial.  It  is  covered 
with  vineyards  and  cornfields;  flocks  and  herds  abound  in  it;  and 
its  mineral  resources  are  great.  There  is  enough  and  to  spare  both 
for  man  and  beast.  There  are  poor  in  the  valley,  as  there  are 
everywhere,  but  life  is  so  far  easy  that  they  are  not  driven  to  seek 
for   subsistence  in  other  places,  and  remain  from   generation  to 

1  An  instauce  was  mentioned  to  me,  in  1869,  of  a  small  proprietor  in  the  Valley 
of  Aosta,  who  had  a  wife  and  several  healthy  children,  having,  .successively,  two  good 
years  with  his  vines.  He  ate  and  dnink  the  proceeds  up,  instead  of  husbanding  bk 
rexiurces,  ami  in  the  two  following  years  two  cretin  children  were  horn  to  him. 
Several  inditferently-good  years  succeeded,  he  was  ohliged  to  live  frugally,  and  liad 
several  more  children,  all  of  whom  were  healthy.  The  parents  were  apparently 
free  from  all  taint  of  cretinism. 

a  Sec  Dr.  Robert  Christison  On  some  of  t/ic  Medko-byil  Relation*  qftln  II 

■  rancc,  1861  ;    Dr.    Edward   Jarvis   On  the  Causes  of  Insanity,    1851  :    and 
Retorts  of  the  Commissioner*  in  Lunacy. 


CHAP.  xvi.  A  PROBABLE  CONJECTURE.  293 

generation  rooted  t* » their  native  soil.  The  large  numbers  of  persons 
who  are  found  in  this  valley  having  the  same  surnames  is  a  proof 
of  the  well-known  fact  that  there  is  little  or  no  emigration  from  the 
valley,  and  that  there  is  an  indefinite  amount  of  intermarriage  be- 
tween the  natives.  It  is  conjectured  that  the  continuance  of  these 
conditions  through  a  long  period  has  rendered  the  population  more 
or  less  consanguineous,  and  that  we  see  in  cretinism  an  example, 
upon  a  large  scale,  of  the  evil  effects  of  alliances  of  kindred. 

This  explanation  commends  itself  by  reason  of  its  general 
applicability  to  cretinism.  The  disease  is  commonly  found  in 
valleys,  on  islands,1  or  in  other  circumscribed  areas,  in  which  cir- 
culation is  restricted,  or  the  inhabitants  are  non-migratory ;  and  it 
is  rare  on  plains,  where  communications  are  free.  It  will  at  once 
be  asked,  "  Why,  then,  are  not  the  tributary  valleys  of  the  Valley  of 
Aosta  full  of  cretins  ? "  The  answer  is,  that  these  lateral  valleys 
are  comparatively  sterile,  and  are  unable  to  support  their  popula- 
tion from  their  internal  resources.  Large  numbers  annually  leave, 
and  do  not  return, — some  come  back,  having  formed  alliances  else- 
where. There  is  a  constant  circulation  and  introduction  of  new 
blood.  I  am  not  aware  that  there  are  returns  to  shew  the  extent 
to  which  this  goes  on,  but  the  fact  is  well  known.2 

1  Dr.  Blackie  gives  the  remarkable  instance  of  "the  island  of  Medwiirth  (Nieder- 
wbrth),  near  Coblence,  where  the  inhabitants  hold  no  connection  with  those  on 
shore,  and  consequently  intermarry  constantly  with  one  another."  This  island, 
according  to  Dr.  Blackie,  had  no  less  than  40  cretins  out  of  a  population  of  750. 

2  The  case  of  the  Val  Sesia  is  not  strictly  in  point,  since  it  is  not  a  tributary  of 
the  Val  d'Aoste,  but  it  may  be  quoted  to  shew  the  extent  to  which  this  migration 
goes  on.  Mr.  King  says,  "  The  population  of  the  whole  Val  Sesia  being  estimated 
at  35,000,  it  is  evidently  utterly  unable  to  maintain  a  tithe  of  that  number  from  its 
own  i  "-sources.  The  necessary  result  is,  a  regular  periodical  migration  of  all  the  able- 
bodied  and  active  males,  for  varying  lengths  of  time,  into  different  parts  of  Europe. 

.  .  .  A  large  number  of  the  towns  of  Italy  and  France,  as  Genoa,  Milan,  Turin,  and 
even  Paris,  are  supplied  with  an  immense  influx  of  skilled  labourers  and  artificers 
from  these  Vals.  Some  idea  of  the  extent  of  this  migration  may  be  formed  from  the 
fact,  that  8000  Val  Sesians  leave  their  homes  annually,  many  of  them  for  years." — 
Italian  Valleys  of  the  Alps,  p.  373. 


2:»i  SI  &AMBLB8  AMONGST  THE  A  Lis.  chap.  vn. 

'I'liis  oonjeeture  seems  to  explain,  better  khan  the  other  guesses, 

why    it    is    that    eivlinism    has   so    strong   a    hold    upon    tin-    Lower 

classes,  while  it  leaves  the  upper  ones  almost  untouched;  for  the 

former  are  most  likely  to  intermarry  with  people  of  their  own 
district,  whilst  the  latter  are  under  no  sort  of  compulsion  in  this 
respect.  It  gives  a  clue,  too,  to  the  reason  of  the  particular 
intensity  in  the  centre  of  the  valley.  The  inhabitants  of  the  Lower 
extremity  communicate  and  mix  with  the  untainted  dwellers  on 
the  plains,  whilst  the  conditions  at  the  upper  extremity  approxi 
mate  to  those  of  the  lateral  valleys.  Before  this  explanation 
will  he  generally  received,  a  closer  connection  will  have  to  be 
established  between  the  assumed  cause  and  the  presumed  effect.1 
Accepting  it,  nevertheless,  as  a  possible  one,  let  us  now  consider 
what  prospect  there  is  of  checking  the  progress  of  the  disease. 

It  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  change  the  habits  of  the  natives 
of  the  Valley  of  Aosta  suddenly,  and  it  would,  probably,  be  very 
difficult  to  cause  any  large  amount  of  emigration  or  immigra- 
tion. In  the  present  condition  of  Italian  finances  there  is  very 
small  chance  of  any  measure  of  the  sort  being  undertaken  il  it 
would  involve  a  considerable  expenditure.  The  opening  of  the 
railway  from  Ivrea  to  Aosta  may  possibly  bring  about,  in  a  natural 
way,  more  movement  than  could  be  promoted  by  any  legislation, 
and   by  this  means  the  happiest  effects  may  be  produced.' 

There  is  little  hope  of  practical  results  from  attempts  to  cure 

1  It  may  be  mentioned,  as  a  link  in  the  evidene.,  that   the   Department   of  the 
Hautes  Aloes  (which  contains  a  prodigious  number  of  cretins)  has,  according  to 
Chipault,  a  larger  proportion  of  deaf  and  dumb  persons  to  its  population  tlian  any 
other  department  of  France,  viz.  1  in  i  19.    The  Department  of  the  Baa 
conies  next,  with  1  in  677. 

3  "M.  Kambuteau  (1'ivfet  of  the  Deiwrtment  of  the  Simplon,  under  the  first 
Napileon)  and  M.  PodM  aatON  us,  that  at  the  close  of  last  century,  the  number  of 
1 1 .  tin-  in  the  Canton  Valaii  diminished  to  a  very  great  degree.  The  former  attri- 
buted this  amelioration  to  the  embankment  of  the  Rhone,  and  the  draining  of  the 
marshes  ;  to  the  Blearing  of  the  laud  ;  and  the  consequent  changes  in  the  character  of 
the  inliahitants,  who  became  more  industrious  and  active,  ami  leaa  given  to  gluttony 
and  drunkenness.     The  latter  author  rather  imputed  it  to  the  opening  of  the  great 


chap.  xvi.  CRETINISM  IS  INCURABLE.  295 

i  n't  ins.  Once  a  crdtin,  you  are  always  one.1  The  experiments  of 
the  late  Dr.  Guggenbiihl  demonstrated  that  some  Jialf-civtius  may 
even  become  useful  members  of  society,  if  they  are  taken  in  hand 
early  in  life ;  but  they  did  not  shew  that  the  nature  of  the  true 
or  complete  cretin  could  be  altered.2  He  essayed  to  modify  some 
of  the  mildest  forms  of  cretinism,  but  did  not  strike  at  the  root  of 
the  evil  If  fifty  Guggenbiihls  were  at  work  in  the  single  Valley 
of  Aosta,  they  would  take  several  generations  to  produce  an 
appreciable  effect,  and  they  would  never  extirpate  the  disease  so 
long  as  its  sources  were  unassailed. 

Nor  will  the  house  which  has  been  built  at  Aosta3  to  contain 
200  cretin  beggars  do  much,  unless  the  inmates  are  restrained  from 
perpetuating  their  own  degradation.  Even  the  lowest  types  of 
cretins  may  be  procreative,  and  it  is  said  that  the  unlimited  liberty 
which  is  allowed  to  them  has  caused  infinite  mischief.  A  large 
proportion  of  the  cretins  who  will  be  born  in  the  next  generation 
will  undoubtedly  be  offspring  of  cretin  parents.  It  is  strange 
that  self-interest  does  not  lead  the  natives  of  Aosta  to  place  their 
cretins  under  such  restrictions  as  would  prevent  their  illicit  inter- 
course ;  and  it  is  still  more  surprising  to  find  the  Catholic  Church 
actually  legalising  their  marriage.  There  is  something  horribly 
grotesque  in  the  idea  of  solemnising  the  union  of  a  brace  of  idiots  ; 

pass  of  the  Simplon,  and  consequent  more  easy  communication  with  other  countries, 
the  people  heing  thus  more  incited  to  bestir  themselves,"  etc.  ;  Blackie,  p.  53.  This 
testimony,  from  authors  who  held  totally  different  opinions  as  to  the  origin  of 
cretinism,  is  strongly  confirmatory  of  the  conjecture  last  advanced. 

1  "  Le  cn'tinisme  acheve  est  incurable  ;  lYtat  physique  et  intellectuel  <1>  - 
tineux  et  des  demi-cn'-tins  est  susceptible  d'amclioration  j>ar  un  traitemeut  eonven- 
able,  des  soins  et  l't'ducation  ;  mais  jamais  on  ne  pourra  faire  d'eux  des  homines 
complets  sous  le  rapport  physique,  moral  et  intellectuel." — Guy  and  Dagand  on 
CrMnisnie  dans  le  Dipartement  di   la  J/nulc-Savou. 

2  Great  expectations  were  raised  some  years  ago  by  the  re]»orts  of  Dr.  Guggenhiihl 
and  by  those  of  visitors  to  his  establishment  on  the  Abendlwrg,  at  Interlaehen  :  but 
they  have  been  disappointed,  and  the  institution  itself  has  been   dosed. 

'  At  the  expense  of  some  unknown  charitable  person.  Besides  this  establish 
nn-iit.  there  is  an  hospital  at  Aosta,  belonging  to  the  order  of  St.  Maurice  et  Lazare, 
containing  twelve  beds  for  cretin  children. 


IM  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS  chai-.  \vi. 

and  since  it  is  well  known  thai  the  disease  is  hereditary,  and 
develops  in  successive  generations,  the  fact  that  such  marriages 
are  sanctioned  is  scandalous  and  infamous.1 

The  supply,  therefore,  is  kept  up  from  two  sources.  The  first 
contingent  U  derived  from  apparently  healthy  parents  ;  the  second, 
by  inheritance  from  diseased  persons.  The  origin  of  the  first  is 
obscure;  and  before  its  quota  can  be  cut  off,  or  even  diminished. 
the  mystery  which  envelops  it  must  be  dissipated.  The  remedy 
t<  >r  the  second  is  obvious,  and  is  in  the  hands  of  the  authorities — 
particularly  in  those  of  the  clergy.  Marriage  must  be  prohibited 
to  all  who  are  affected;  the  most  extreme  cases  must  be  placed 
under  restraint ;  and  cretins  whose  origin  is  illegitimate  must  be 
subject  to  disabilities.  Nothing  short  of  the  adoption  of  these 
measures  will  meet  the  case.  Useless  it  will  be,  so  long  as  the 
primary  sources  of  the  disease  are  untouched,  to  build  hospitals,  to 
cleanse  dwellings,  to  widen  streets,  or  to  attempt  small  ameliora- 
tions of  the  social  circumstances  of  the  natives.  All  of  these  things 
are  good  enough  in  themselves,  but  they  are  wholly  impotent  to 
effect  a  radical  change. 

No  satisfactory  conclusion  will  be  arrived  at  regarding  the 
origin  of  cretinism  until  the  pedigrees  of  a  large  number  of  examples 
have  been  traced.  The  numerical  test  is  the  only  one  which  is 
likely  to  discover  the  reality.  The  necessary  inquiries  are  beyond 
the  powers  of  private  persons,  and  their  pursuit  will  be  found  suf- 

1  It  should  be  stated,  that  some  of  the  clergy,  at  least,  refuse  to  unite  the  worst 
kinds  of  cretins.  I  have  heard  it  said,  however,  that  all  are  not  so  particular  ;  and. 
again,  others  have  told  me  that  cretins  are  never  legally  married  in  the  Valley  of 
Aosta.  I  imagine  the  truth  to  be,  that  some  of  the  priests  are  scrupulous,  and  that 
others  are  not.  The  evidence  of  the  natives  upon  this  subject  was  so  conflicting, 
that  I  applied  to  the  late  Canon  Carrel  (of  Aosta)  for  information  Ili>  answer  was 
suflieiently  explicit  as  to  the  </<  m  ml  custom  : — "  II  y  a  des  on  ttni  qoJ  p-irlent  avec 
une  certaine  intelligence,  etqui  sont  ca] tables  d'apfNndn  qtielqnee  v.  i  i t •  i  et  ipielques 
notions  necessaires  aux  devoirs  sociaux.  Ceux-ci  contractent  quelimefois  manage. 
Quant  a  ceux  qui  ont  l'intelligence  trt-s  obtuse,  on  ne  leur  permet  jtas  le  manage, 
<[in>i(ju'ils  puissent  encore  engendrer  ce  qui  tient  plus  de  la  loi  naturelle  que  de  la 
loi  civile." 


chap.  xvi.      THE  POSSIBILITY  OF  CHECKING  CRETINISM.         Wl 

ticiciitly  difficult  by  official  investigatore,  <Jreat  reluctance  will  1x3 
exhibited  to  disclose  the  information  which  should  be  sought,  and 
the  common  cry  will  certainly  be  raised,  that  such  scrutiny  is  with- 
out general  advantage,  and  is  painful  to  private  feelings.  But,  in 
matters  which  affect  mankind  in  general,  individual  feelings  must 
always  be  subordinated  to  the  public  interest;  and  if  the  truth  is 
to  be  arrived  at  in  regard  to  cretinism,  the  protests  of  the  ignorant 
will  have  to  be  overridden. 

Hitherto,  those  who  have  written  upon  the  disease  have  con- 
fined themselves,  almost  exclusively,  to  guessing  at  its  origin ;  and 
accurate  data,  from  which  sound  deductions  can  be  made,  are,  I 
believe,  entirely  wanting.1  We,  however,  are  not  in  a  position  to 
taunt  others  with  neglect  of  inquiry.  Some  years  ago  the  House 
of  Commons  rejected,  by  a  considerable  majority,  a  proposition 
that  was  designed  to  throw  light  upon  the  causes  of  idiocy ;  and 
the  opponents  of  the  words  which  it  was  sought  to  introduce, 
although  strictly  parliamentary  in  their  arguments  and  language, 
afforded  a  deplorable  proof  that  cretinism  is  not  unknown  in  our 
own  country.2 

Cretinism  is  the  least  agreeable  feature  of  the  Valley  of  Aosta, 
but  it  is,  at  the  same  time,  one  of  the  most  striking.  It  has  been 
touched  upon  for  the  sake  of  its  human  interest,  and  on  account 
of  those  unhappy  beings  who — punished  by  the  errors  of  their 
fathers — are  powerless  to  help  themselves; — the  first  sight  of 
whom  produced  such  an  impression  upon  the  most  earnest  of  all 
Alpine  writers,  that  he  declared,  in  a  twice-repeated  expression, 
its  recollection  would  never  be  effaced  from  his  memory.3 

At  some  very  remote  period  the  Valley  of  Aosta  was  occupied 

1  For  further  information  upon  cretinism,  see  the  works  of  Ferrus,  Niepce, 
Fabre,  Seguin,  Nystrom,  Morel,  etc. 

2  Debate  on  the  Census  Bill,  on  the  motion  by  Sir  John  Lubbock  to  insert  the 
words  "whether  married  to  a  first  cousin."  The  opponents  of  Sir  J.  Lubbock's 
motion  should  read  Chij>ault  Sur  les  Mariayea  Consanguine*:  Paris,  1863. 

3  De  Saussure,  §§  954,  1030. 

2Q 


-its  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  Till:  ALPS.  oRAP.m 

I iy  a  vast  -lacier,  which  Mowed  down  its  entire  Length  from  Mont 
lUanc  bo  tin'  plain  of  Piedmont,  remained  stationary,  <»r  nearly  so, 
tit  its  mouth  for  many  centuries,  and  deposited  there  mormons 
masses  of  debris.  The  length  of  this  glacier  exceeded  80  miles, 
and  it  drained  a  basin  26  to  35  miles  across,  bounded  by  the 
highest  mountains  in  the  Alps.  It  did  not  fill  this  basin.  Neither 
the  main  stream  nor  its  tributaries  completely  covered  up  the 
valleys  down  which  they  flowed.  The  great  peaks  still  rose  several 
thousand  feet  above  the  glaciers,  and  then,  as  now,  shattered  by 
sun  and  frost,  poured  down  their  showers  of  rocks  and  stones,  in 
witness  of  which  there  are  the  immense  piles  of  angular  fragments 
that  constitute  the  moraines  of  Ivrea.1  The  wine  which  is  drunk 
in  that  town  is  produced  from  soil  that  was  borne  by  this  great 
glacier  from  the  slopes  of  Monte  Eosa;  and  boulders  from  Mont 
Blanc  are  spread  over  the  country  between  that  town  and  the  Po, 
supplying  excellent  materials  for  building  purposes,  which  were 
known  to  the  Romans,  who  employed  them  in  some  of  their 
erections  at  Santhia.- 

The  moraines  around  Ivrea  are  of  extraordinary  dimensions. 
That  which  was  the  lateral  moraine  of  the  left  bank  of  the  glacier 
is  about  thirteen  miles  long,  and,  in  some  places,  rises  to  a  height  of 
2130  feet  above  the  floor  of  the  valley  !  Professor  Martins  termed 
it  "  la  plus  elevee,  la  plus  reguliere,  et  la  mieux  caracterisee  des 
Alpes." 3  It  is  locally  called  la  Serra.  The  lateral  moraine  of  the 
right  bank  also  rises  to  a  height  of  1000  feet,  and  would  be  deemed 
enormous  but  for  the  proximity  of  its  greater  comrade;  while  the 
terminal  moraines  cover  something  like  twenty  square  miles  of 
country. 

The  erratic  nature  of  the  materials  of  these  great  rubbish-heape 
was  distinctly  pointed  out  by  De  Saussure  (Voyages,  §§  974- 
978);  their  true  origin  was  subsequently  indicated  by  Messrs. 
Studer  (1844)  and  Guyot  (1847);   and  the  excellent  account  of 

1  See  General  Map.  *  I  was  indebted  for  this  fact  to  the  late  Professor  Gastaldi. 

*  licvue  des  Deux  Mondcs. 


chap.  xvi.  THE  MORAINES  OF  1VREA.  100 

them  which  lias  since  been  published  by  Professors  Martins  and 
Gastaldi  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired  either  in  accuracy  or  com- 
pleteness.1 It  is  not  my  purpose,  therefore,  to  enter  into  a  de- 
scription of  them,  but  only  to  discuss  some  considerations  arising 
out  of  the  facts  which  have  been  already  mentioned. 

It  has  been  proved  beyond  doubt  that  these  gigantic  mounds 
around  Ivrea  are  actually  the  moraines  of  a  glacier  (now  extinct) 
which  occupied  the  Valley  of  Aosta ;  and  it  is  indisputable  that 
there  are  boulders  from  Mont  Blanc  amongst  them.  The  former, 
facts  certify  that  the  glacier  was  of  enormous  size,  and  the  latter 
that  it  must  have  existed  for  a  prodigious  length  of  time. 

The  height  of  la  Serra  indicates  the  depth  of  the  glacier.  It 
does  not  fix  the  depth  absolutely,  inasmuch  as  the  crest  of  the 
moraine  must  have  been  degraded  during  the  thousands  of  years 
which  have  elapsed  since  the  retreat  of  the  ice ;  and,  further,  it  is 
possible  that  some  portions  of  the  surface  of  the  glacier  may  have 
been  considerably  elevated  above  the  moraine  when  the  ice  was  at 
its  maximum  thickness.  Anyhow,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Valley  of 
Aosta,  the  thickness  of  the  glacier  must  have  been  at  least  2000 
feet,  and  its  width,  at  that  part,  five  miles  and  a  quarter. 

The  boulders  from  Mont  Blanc,  upon  the  plain  below  Ivrea, 
assure  us  that  the  glacier  which  transported  them  existed  for  a 
prodigious  length  of  time.  Their  present  distance  from  the  cliff's 
from  which  they  were  derived  is  about  420,000  feet,  and  if  we 
assume  that  they  travelled  at  the  rate  of  400  feet  per  annum,  their 
journey  must  have  occupied  them  no  less  than  1055  years !  In  all 
probability  they  did  not  travel  so  fast.  But  even  if  they  were  to 
be  credited  with  a  quicker  rate  of  motion,  the  length  of  time  which 
their  journey  must  have  taken  will  be  sufficient  for  my  purposes.2 

1  Essai  sur  les  terrains  superficiels  dc  la  Vallie  du  Po,  extrait  du  Bulletin  de 
la  Socii-te  Gfologique  dc  France,   1850. 

2  See  Forbes'  Occasional  Papers  on  the  Theory  of  Glaciers,  pp.  193-95,  and 
Travels  through  the  Alps  of  Savoy,  2nd  ed.  pp.  86-7,  for  information  bearing  upon  tbe 
mean  annual  motion  of  existing  Alpine  glaciers.  In  tbe  former  work  an  accouut 
is  given  of  the  discovery  of  tbe  remains  of  a  knapsack  ten  years  after  it  had  been 


300  BOEAMBLEB  AMONGST  TEE  ALPS,  chai\  wi. 

The  space  of  1055  years,  however,  by  no  means  represents  the 
duration  of  the  life  of  the  glacier  of  Aosta.  It  may  have  existed 
for  immense  periods  both  anterior  and  posterior  to  tin-  journeys  of 
the  Mont  Wane  boulders.  The  frontal  terminal  moraines,  which 
stretch  from  Caluso  to  \ 'iverone  (a  distance  of  more  than  ten  miles), 
are  evidence  that  the  snout  of  the  glacier  remained  stationary,  <>r 
nearly  so,  for  a  length  of  time  which  must  at  least  be  estimated  by 
centuries,  and  probably  extended  over  thousands  of  years.  These 
moraines  constitute  important  chains  of  bills  whose  bases  are 
several  miles  across,  and  which  attain  a  height  of  more  than  a 
thousand  feet;  and,  as  they  were  formed  by  the  gradual  and  slow 
spreading  out  of  the  medial  and  lateral  moraines,  it  is  evident 
that  they  were  not  built  up  in  a  day. 

Moreover,  when  the  glacier  of  Aosta  shrank  away  from  Ivrea, 
its  retrogression  may  have  been  comparatively  rapid,  or  it  may 
have  been  conducted  with  extreme  deliberation.  But,  under  any 
circumstances,  the  extinction  of  such  a  tremendous  body  of  ice 
must  have  extended  over  many  years,  and  for  a  portion  of  that 
time  a  large  part  of  the  mass  must  have  been  advancing  down  the 
valley,  although  the  snout  of  the  glacier  was  retreating,  and  al- 
though the  entire  mass  was  diminishing  in  volume.     If  the  time  is 

dropped  in  a  crevasse,  at  a  horizontal  distance  of  4300  feet  from  the  place  at  which  it 
had  heen  lost,  shewing  an  average  annual  motion  of  430  feet.  In  the  latter  work 
there  is  a  relation  of  the  recovery  of  the  remains  of  a  ladder  used  by  De  fleimwim. 
which  had  travelled  about  13,000  feet  in  44  years,  or  295  feet  per  annum.  Forbes 
says  that  the  first  of  these  two  examples  is  better  ascertained  in  all  its  particulars 
than  the  other.  It  should  be  observed  that  the  knapsack  in  question  made  the 
descent  of  the  well-known  "  ice-fall  "  of  the  Glacier  de  Tah-fre,  and  that  there  was  a 
difference  of  level  between  the  place  at  which  it  was  lost  and  that  at  which  it  was 
foil  ml  of  U46  feet ;  that  is  to  say,  it  descended  one  foot  in  every  four  that  it  advanced. 
This  rapid  descent  undoubtedly  accelerates  the  motion  of  the  Glacier  de  TaK-fre.  The 
town  of  Ivrea,  on  the  other  hand,  is  768  feet  (Ball)  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  while 
Kntreves  (at  the  foot  of  Mont  Hlanc)  is  4216  feet  (Mieulet).  So  that  the  glacier 
which  once  spread  over  the  sites  of  these  two  places  (which  are  about  65  miles  apart) 
descended  by  an  average  gradient  of  almost  exactly  1  in  100.  This  moderate  rate  of 
inclination  would  as  certainly  tend  to  retard  the  motion  of  the  glacier. 


chap.  xvi.  TWO  BOLD  THEORIES.  301 

considered  which  was  consumed  during  this  phase  of  its  life,  and 
the  time  which  elapsed  during  its  prolonged  sojourn  at  Ivrea,  and 
the  time  which  passed  before  it  attained  its  maximum  dimensions, 
it  must  be  conceded  that  the  period  of  1055  years  was,  in  all  prob- 
ability, only  a  small  portion  of  the  epoch  during  which  the  Valley 
of  Aosta  sustained  the  grinding  of  tins  enormous  mass  of  ice. 

Let  us  confine  ourselves  to  certainties.  Here,  then,  was  a 
glacier  which  flowed  down  the  Valley  of  Aosta  for  more  than  a 
thousand  years,  having  a  thickness  of  2000  feet,1  a  width  of  several 
miles,  and  a  length  of  eighty  miles.  The  existing  glaciers  of  the 
Alps  do  not  approach  these  dimensions,  and  even  in  the  period 
when  the  ice-streams  of  Europe  had  so  great  an  extension  there 
were  very  few  which  surpassed  them.  Still  fewer,  perhaps,  existed 
for  so  long  time,  and  there  are  probably  only  one  or  two — such 
as  the  ancient  glacier  of  the  Ehone — which  have  received  as  much 
attention  and  have  been  as  carefully  studied.  For  these  reasons  it 
seems  to  me  to  be  more  advantageous  to  refer  to  it  than  to  instances 
which  are  less  known  and  more  open  to  doubt;  and  I  select 
it,  on  account  of  these  reasons,  as  a  valley  that  should  afford 
strong  testimony  in  support  of  the  theories  which  assert  that  the 
valleys  and  many  of  the  lake -basins  of  the  Alps  have  been 
excavated  by  glaciers. 

The  latter  of  these  two  theories  was  communicated  to  the 
Geological  Society,  by  Professor  Ramsay,  on  March  5,  1862.2  It 
received  much  attention,  and  excited  much  criticism,  but  Pro- 
fessor Ramsay  replied  to  few  of  his  critics,  excepting  Sir 
Roderick  Murchison  and  Sir  Charles  Lyell.  In  answer  to  the 
objections  which  were  raised  against  the  reception  of  his  theory 

1  This  is  understating  the  case.  The  thickness  of  the  glacier  exceeded  2000  feet 
at  the  mouth  of  the  valley,  where  it  had  a  width  of  5J  miles.  In  the  valley  itself, 
where  the  width  was  less,  the  thickness  appears  to  have  heen  considerably  more  than 
2000  feet. 

2  Professor  Ramsay's  paper  was  printed  in  the  Quarterly  Journal  Geol.  Soc. .  August 
1862.  The  germs  of  the  Professor's  theory  are  to  he  found  in  his  Old  Glaciers  of 
Switzerland  and  North  Wales,'lS60,  pp.  86,  107,  109,  110. 


302  SCR  A MULES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  xvi. 

by  these  distinguished  geologists,  he  published  two  papers  in  the 
Pit  i/onophical  Magazine ; l  and,  in  endeavouring  to  present  a  resume" 
of  the  Professor's  views,  I  shall  draw  from  these  papers  as  lively 
as  from  his  original  memoir,  for  they  afford  amplification  and 
elucidation  of  his  argument.- 

L'rofessor  Iiamsay  said,  in  opening  his  case,  "There  is  no  point 
in  physical  geography  more  difficult  to  account  for  than  the  origin 
of  most  lakes.  When  thought  about  at  all,  it  is  easy  to  see  that 
lakes  are  the  result  of  the  formation  of  hollows,  a  great  proportion 
of  which  are  true  rock-basins,  that  is  to  say,  in  hollows  entirely 
surrounded  by  solid  rocks,  the  waters  not  being  retained  by  loose 
detritus."3  It  is  in  reference  to  such  ones  alone  that  his  theory 
was  propounded.  He  then  went  on  to  state,  in  especial  reference 
to  lakes  of  this  class  in  the  Alps — 

§  1.  "  That  the  theory  of  an  area  of  special  subsidence  for  each 
lake  is  untenable. 

§  2.  That  none  of  them  lie  in  lines  of  gaping  fracture  (rents 
and  fissures). 

§  3.  That  none  of  them  occupy  simple  synclinal  basins  formed 
by  the  mere  disturbance  of  the  strata  after  the  close  of  the 
Miocene  epoch."4 

Ami  he  therefore  argued  that  they  must  have  been  produced  by 
erosion ;  but 

§  4.  They  do  not  lie  in  hollows  of  common  watery  erosion,  nor 
can  they  be  effects  of  marine  denudation. 

He  consequently  concluded,  "If  we  have  disposed  of  these 
hypotheses  for  the  formation  of  such  hollows,  what  is  left  ? 

§  5.  The  only  remaining  agent  is  the  denuding  power  of  ice." 5 
He  then  proved  that,  in  the  Alps  and  elsewhere, 

1  October  1864,  and  April  1865. 

8  I  shall  also  occasionally  refer  to  his  Physical  Geology  and  Geography  of  Great 
Britain,  and  to  Old  Glaciers  of  Switzerland,  etc. 

3  Physical  Geology  and  Geography  of  Great  Britain,  p.  86. 

4  Proc.  Geol.  Sor.,  Aug.  1862,  p.  200.     B  Physical  Geology  and  Geography,  p.  88. 


OHAP.  xvi.  RAMSA  Y'S  EROSION   THEORY.  SOI 

§  6.  "  Each  of  the  lakes  lies  in  an  urea  once  covered  by  a  vast 
glacier." l 
And  went  on  to  reason — 

§7.  "If  a  glacier  can  round,  polish,  and  cover  with  striations 
the  rocks  over  which  it  passes — if,  flowing  from  its  caverns,  it  can 
charge  rivers  thickly  with  the  finest  mud,  then  it  can  wear  away 
its  rocky  floor  and  sides."  - 

§  8.  He  assumed  that  glaciers  are  competent  to  produce  lake- 
basins,  and  that  they  have  done  so  by  scooping  out  softer  parts  of 
the  country,  leaving  hollows  surrounded  by  a  framework  of  harder 
rocks ;  "  but  perhaps  more  generally  they  (the  rock-basins)  were 
formed  by  the  greater  thickness  and  weight,  and  consequently  pro- 
portionally greater  grinding  pressure  of  glacier-ice  in  particular 
areas," 3  "  the  situations  of  which  may  have  been  determined  by 
accidental  circumstances,  the  clue  to  which  is  lost,  from  our 
inability  perfectly  to  reconstruct  the  original  forms  of  the 
glaciers." 

The  particular  manner  in  which  he  supposed  the  great  lake-basins 
of  the  Alps  were  formed  was  as  follows : — 

§  9.  "It  will  be  evident  that  when  the  general  inclination  of  a 
valley  was  comparatively  steep,  a  glacier  coidd  have  had  no  oppor- 
tunity of  cutting  for  itself  any  special  basin-shaped  hollows.  Its 
course,  with  a  difference,  is  like  that  of  a  torrent.  But  in  a  flat- 
bottomed  part  of  a  valley,  or  in  a  comparative  plain  that  lies  at  the 
base  of  a  mountain  range,  the  case  is  not  the  same.  For  instance, 
to  take  an  extreme  case,  if  a  glacier  tumble  over  a  slope  of  45°,  no 
one  would  dream  of  the  ice-flow  producing  any  special  effect,  except 
that  in  the  long  run,  the  upper  edge  of  the  rock  that  forms  the 
cataract  being  worn  away,  its  average  angle  would  be  lowered. 
And  so  of  minor  slopes;  if  the  ice  flowing  fast  (for  a  glacier) 
rendered  the  rocky  surface  underneath  unequal,  such  inequalities 
could  not  become  great  and  permanent ;  for  the  rapidly-flowing  ice 

1  Proc.  Geol.  Soc.,  p.  199.  a  Phil.  Mag.,  October  1864,  p.  303. 

3  Proc.  Oeol.  Soc.,  1862,  p.  188.  *  Ibid.  p.  200. 


804  SCRAM  Hi.  F.s  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.xvi. 

would  utttick  the  projecting  parts  with  greater  power  and  effect  than 
the  minor  hollows,  and  so  preserve  an  approximate  uniformity,  or 
an  average  angle  of  moderate  inclination.  But  when  a  monstrous 
glacier  descended  into  a  comparative  plain,  or  into  a  low  flat  valley, 
the  case  was  different.  There,  to  use  homely  phrases,  the  ice  had 
time  to  select  soft  places  for  excavation,  and  there,  if  from  the 
confluence  of  large  glaciers,  or  for  other  reasons,  the  downward 
pressure  of  the  ice  was  of  extra  amount,  the  excavating  effect, 
I  contend,  must  have  been  unusually  great  in  special  areas,  and 
have  resulted  in  the  formation  of  rock-bound  hollows."  * 

He  accounted  for  the  deep  parts  of  the  lakes  by  supposing 
that — 

§  10.  "The  grinding  action  lasted  after  a  glacier  had  retired 
above  the  position  of  the  present  lake-barrier,  so  that  the  waste  of 
the  rocky  floor  being  long  continued,  by  degrees  the  glacier  wore 
out  a  depression  deeper  and  deeper,  till,  on  its  final  retirement. 
the  space  once  occupied  by  ice  became  filled  with  the  water 
drainage  of  the  valley."2 

The  shallowness  at  their  mouths  was  thus  explained: — 

§11.  As  the  glaciers  "progressed  and  melted,  the  ice  must* 
have  been  thinner,  and  must  have  exercised  less  erosive  power 
than  where  it  was  thick,  whence  the  gradual  slope  of  the  bottom 
of  these  lakes  towards  their  outflows."  3 

§  12.  "Therefore  I  have  been  forced  to  the  conclusion,  from  a 
critical  examination  of  many  of  the  lakes  in  and  around  the  Alps, 
that  their  basins  were  scooped  out  by  the  great  glaciers  of  tin- 
glacial  period." 4 

The  astonishment  which  Professor  Ramsay's  theory  created  had 
not  subsided  when  Professor  Tyndall  brought  forward  opinions  of 
an  even  bolder  character,5  and  avowed  his  belief  that  the  valleys  of 

1  Phil.  Mag.,  October  1864,  p.  305.  *  Old  Glaciers,  pp.  104-5. 

3  Phil.  Mag.,  April  1865,  p.  298.  4  Phys.  Geol.  and  Oeog.  p.  90. 

•  Phil.  Mag.,  Sept.  1862. 


chap.  xvi.  TYNDALL'S  THEORY  806 

the  Alps  had  been  (entirely  ?)  excavated  by  glaciers !    His  summing 
Up  was  as  follows: — 

"That  such  an  agent  was  competent  to  plough  out  the  Alpine  valley.- 
cannot,  I  think,  be  doubted  ;  while  the  fact  that  during  the  ages  which  have 
elapsed  since  its  disappearance  the  ordinary  denuding  action  of  the  atmo- 
sphere has  been  unable,  in  most  cases,  to  obliterate  even  the  superficial  traces 
of  the  glaciers,  suggests  the  incompetence  of  that  action  to  produce  the  same 
effect.  That  the  glaciers  have  been  the  real  excavators  seems  to  me  far  more 
probable  than  the  supposition  that  they  merely  filled  valleys  which  had  been 
previously  formed  by  water  denudation.  Indeed  the  choice  lies  between  these 
two  suppositions :  shall  we  assume  that  glaciers  tilled  valleys  which  were 
previously  formed  by  what  would  undoubtedly  be  a  weaker  agent?  or  shall 
we  conclude  that  they  have  been  the  excavators  which  have  furrowed  the 
uplifted  land  with  the  valleys  which  now  intersect  it  1  I  do  not  hesitate 
to  accept  the  latter  view." — Phil.  Mag.,  Sept.  1862,  p.  172. 

Except  for  the  character  of  the  magazine  in  which  Dr. 
Tyndall's  paper  appeared,  it  might  have  been  supposed  that  he  was 
poking  fun  at  his  readers  and  at  Professor  Ramsay.  For  although 
to  some  persons  he  might  have  seemed  to  be  supporting  the  views 
of  the  Professor,  he  was,  in  reality,  advancing  opinions  which  were 
directly  opposed  to  them.  Professor  liamsay  promptly  repudiated 
tins  doubtful  extension  of  his  theory.  Indeed,  he  could  hardly  do 
otherwise,  after  having  spoken  of  "  the  well-ascertained  fact,  that 
"its  to  the  Tertiary  glacial  epoch,  most  of  the  grander  contours 
of  hill  and  valley  were  in  Britain  (and  elsewhere  in  Europe  and 
America),  nearly  the  same  as  now."  1  He  now  repeated  the  same 
statement  in  slightly  different  words.  "  The  evidence  is  imperfect ; 
but  such  as  it  is,  it  gives  much  more  than  a  hint  that  the  large 
valleys  were  in  their  main  features  approximately  as  deep  as  now, 
before  they  were  filled  with  ice ; " 2  and,  further,  he  produced  in 
evidence  a  potent  reason  for  declining  to  believe  that  the  valley  of 
Aosta  had  been  excavated  by  glaciers.  This  latter  passage  will 
presently  be  quoted  at  length,  on  account  of  its  importance.3 

For  a  time  Dr.  Tyndall  made  no  sign  in  reply,  but,  in  October 

1  Old  Glaciers  of  Wales,  p.  94.  -  Phil.  Mag.,  Nov.  1862,  p.  379. 

3  See  pp.  328-9. 

2R 


306  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  ohap.  vn. 

1864,  he  oommtmioated  another  paper  to  the  Philosophical Maacuim . 

in  which  he  modified  his  views  t<>  a  certain  extent  (and  made  the 
important  admission  thai  it  was  perh a i is  impossible  t«>  say  whether 

water  or  ice  had  produced  the  greatest  aiiiuiuit  of  erosion),  although 
upon  the  whole  he  adhered  to  his  former  assertions.  This  paper 
contained  one  remarkable  passage;  remarkable,  because  it  partly 
shewed  the  workings  of  its  author's  mind,  and  because  it  was, 
apparently,  intended  to  controvert  Professor  ltamsay's  theory. 
It  was  as  follows: — 

"On  tin'  higher  dopes  and  plateaus — in  the  region  of  cole— the  power 

(of  glaciers)  is  not  fully  developed  ;  but  Lower  down  tributaries  unite,  erosion 
i>  earned  on  with  increased  vigour,  and  the  excavation  gradually  reaches  a 
maximum.  Lower  still  tin*  elevations  diminish  and  the  slopes  become  DMN 
gentle  ;  tin-  cutting  power  gradually  relaxes,  and  finally  the  eroding  agent  quitt 
the  mountains  altogether,  and  the  grand  effects  which  it  produced  in  the  earlier 
portions  of  its  course  entirely  disappear."1 — Phil.  Mag.,  Oct  1864,  p.  264. 

That  is  to  say,  precisely  in  the  situations  where  Professor  Barn- 
Bay  required  glaciers  to  produce  the  greatest  effects,  Dr.  Tyndall 
asserted  they  produced  none  whatever!  Professor  Ramsay  did 
not  allow  much  time  to  elapse  before  he  contradicted  these 
statements  categorically. 

"Every  ]>liysiri>t,"  said  he,  "knows  that  when  such  a  body  as  glacier-ice 
descends  a  slope,  the  direct  vertical  pressure  of  the  ice  will  he  proportional 
to  its  thickness  and  weigh!  and  the  angle  of  the  slope  over  which  it  flows. 
If  the  angle  Ik;  5u,  the  weight  and  erosive  power  of  a  given  thickness  of  ice 
will  he  so  much,  if  10°  so  much  less,  if  20°  less  still,  till  at  length,  if  we  may 
imagine  the  tall  to  lie  over  a  vertical  wall  of  rock,  the  pressure  against  the 
wall  (except  accidentally)  will  be  nil.  But  wlten  the  same  vast  body  of  ice  has 
,,.!,!,,. I  th>-  jilniit,  then  motion  and  erosion  would  cease,  were  it  nol  tor  pres- 
sure from  behind  (excepting  what    little  motion  forward  and  sideways  might 

lie  due  to  its  own  weight).    This  pressure,  however,  must  have  been  constant 

BB   long  as  supplies  of  s&OW  Cell   on    the  mountains,  and    therefore   the  inert 

mass  iii  the  plain  was  constantly  urged  onwards;  and  because  of  it-  vertical 

.•  its  ilind  erosive  power  would  necessarily  be  pro])ortional  to  its  thickness, 

urn!  greater  than  ioash  it  lay  on  aslope;  for  it  would  grate  across  the  rocks, as 

1  The  italics  are  not  in  the  original. 


chap.  xvi.  CONTRADICTIONS.  307 

it  were,  unwillingly  ami  by  compulsion,  instead  of  finding  its  way  onwards 
more  or  less  by  virtue  of  gravity.  Indeed  the  idea  is  forced  on  the  mind,  that 
the  sluggish  ice  woxdd  have  a  tendency  to  heap  itself  up  just  outside  the  mouth 
of  the  valley,  and  there  attain  an  unusual  thickness,  thus  exercising,  after  its 
descent,  an  extra  erosive  power."1 — Phil.  Mag.,  April  1865,  p.  287. 

Professor  Tyndall  does  not  appear  to  have  found  the  reply  con- 
vincing. He  is  reported  to  have  said  at  the  Birmingham  meeting 
of  the  British  Association  in  1865  "  that  he  was  convinced  that 
the  glaciers  of  the  Alps  were  competent  to  scoop  out  the  valleys  of 
the  Alps," 2  and  I  am  unaware  that  his  opinions  have  undergone 
any  alteration  since  that  time.  In  1869  he  gave  a  hard  side-blow 
to  Professor  Ramsay,  in  Macmillans  Magazine,  by  proving  that 
some  existing  Alpine  glaciers  exercise  little  or  no  erosion  upon 
their  beds  near  and  at  their  terminations  (snouts),  because  at  such 
places  they  are  almost  stationary.3 

It  is  impossible  to  criticise  these  two  theories  at  the  same 
moment.  Both  of  them  agree  in  attributing  enormous  powers  of 
excavation  to  glaciers,  but  they  disagree  totally  and  completely  as 
to  the  modus  operandi  by  which  the  effects  were  produced.  They 
differ  even  in  their  general  conclusions.  One  asserts  that  the 
greatest  effects  were  produced  upon  the  plains,  and  that  very  little 
was  done  amongst  the  mountains ;  whilst  the  other  declares  that 
the  mountains  owe  their  actual  forms  to  the  carving  of  glaciers, 
and  that  the  plains  did  not  suffer  at  all !  There  is  no  wonder  that 
the  unenlightened  public  inquire,  "  Who  shall  decide  between  the 
disagreements  of  these  Doctors  ? "  But  it  is  surprising  to  find 
some  persons  still  accept  as  gospel  truth  the  contradictory  dicta 
of  these  eminent  men,  and  speak  and  write  as  if  it  were  established 

1  Comparison  of  the  sentences  placed  in  italics,  with  the  preceding  one  from  Dr. 
Tyndall,  will  shew  how  irreconcilable  were  the  opinions  of  these  two  writers. 

2  Birmingham  Daily  Post,  September  13,  1865. 

s  It  must  not  be  understood  that  anything  of  the  nature  of  a  controversy  was 
carried  on,  in  the  magazines  cited,  by  the  two  Professors.  They  did  not  refer  to  each 
other  by  name  ;  but  it  was  imi>ossible  to  read  the  passages  which  have  been  quoted, 
without  feeling  that  they  were  intended  to  be  replies  to  objections  on  the  other  side. 


SOS  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THB  ALPS  chap.  \m. 

that  Lake-basing  and  mountain -valleys  have  been  excavated    by 
glaciers. 

It  is  nut  requisite  to  decide  between  all  the  differences  contained 
iii  these  two  theories,  in  order  to  arrive  at  a  tolerably  correct 
judgment  upon  the  general  conclusions.  Professor  Ramsay,  for 
example,  attributes  the  production  of  the  greatest  effects  to  the 
weight  of  glaciers.  Professor  Tyndall,  on  the  other  hand,  assigns 
most  power  to  the  motion.  I  shall  ignore  these  points,  because  I 
have  no  data  from  which  to  arrive  at  a  satisfactory  decision,  and 
because  it  is  not  necessary  for  them  to  be  mixed  up  with  a  dis- 
cussion of  the  question,  Were  the  valleys  of  the  Alps  excavated 
by  glaciers?  For  the  consideration  of  this  subject,  let  us  now 
return  to  the  Valley  of  Aosta. 

The  town  of  Ivrea  is  placed  at  the  mouth  of,  though  not 
actually  within  the  valley,  and  several  miles  of  flat,  dusty  road 
have  to  be  traversed  before  it  is  entered.  Upon  this  portion  of  the 
country  civilisation  is  doing  its  best  to  efface  the  traces  of  the 
glacial  period.  Cultivation  of  the  soil  disturbs  all  deposits,  and 
the  hammers  of  the  masons  destroy  the  erratics.  After  quitting 
Ivrea,  almost  the  first  object  of  interest  is  the  castle  of  Montalto, 
perched  on  a  commanding  crag,  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  valley. 
Thence,  from  Settimo  Vittone  up  to  the  foot  of  the  existing  glaciers 
of  the  range  of  Mont  Blanc,  there  are  traces  of  glacier-action  upon 
each  hand.  The  road  need  not  be  quitted  to  seek  for  them ; — they 
are  everywliere.  I  refer  especially  to  the  rocks  in  situ.  The  rock- 
lbrins  called  roclics  iiuuitoirmrn  are  universally  distributed,  and  it  is 
needless,  at  the  present  moment,  to  point  to  any  in  particular. 
Although  of  varying  degrees  of  resistancy,  they  have,  upon  the 
whole,  stood  the  weathering  remarkably  well  of  the  thousands  <>[' 
years  which  have  elapsed  since  the  glacier  covered  them.  The 
floor  of  the  valley,  generally  speaking,  has  not  been  lowered  since 
that  time,  by  the  combined  agencies  of  sun,  frost, and  water,  to  any 
appreciable  extent.  The  forms  which  the  ror/ii'.s  monfo/i/i&s  present 
to-day.  are  the  forms  which  they  presented,  perhaps,  ten  thousand 


chap.  xvi.    GLACIATED  ROCKS  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  AOSTA.     309 

years  ago.  Many  of  those  which  are  freely  exposed  to  the  atmo- 
sphere retain  a  high  polish  and  fine  striations.  If  the  soil  were  to 
be  removed  that  covers  the  flatter  portions  of  the  valley,  we  should 
doubtless  find  higher  polish,  and  still  finer  striations.  Those 
which  are  visible  remain  so  perfect  that  it  is  certain  weathering 
has  done  exceedingly  little  to  alter  their  contours,  and  we  may 
argue  regarding  them  as  if  their  icy  covering  had  been  but  just 
removed.  It  seems  to  me,  it  may  be  demonstrated  from  the  very 
contours  of  these  glaciated  rocks,  that  the  valley  was  not  excavated 
by  glaciers,  and  indeed,  that  it  was  eroded  by  glaciers  only  to  a 
very  limited  extent. 

For  the  forms  which  are  called  moutonne'es  preponderate  very 
largely.  The  rocks  which  I  have  ventured  to  term  roclies  niveUes, 
are  comparatively  rare,1  although  they  are  sufficiently  numerous  to 
shew  that  the  valley  was  subjected  to  severe  grinding  for  a  great 
length  of  time.  They  are  found  upon  the  floor  of  the  valley,  or  in 
places  where  it  narrows,  or  upon  the  lower  sides  of  little  ravines 
(now  watercourses)  which  the  glacier  had  to  cross,  into  which  it 
was  forced  down  when  in  the  act  of  crossing,  and  out  of  which  it 
escaped  by  mounting  the  opposite  bank.  In  brief,  they  are  found 
precisely  where  they  should  be  found.  In  those  places  where  the 
thickness  of  the  ice  was  greatest,  and  where  the  motion  was 
(probably)  quickest;  where  the  glacier  was  compressed  laterally, 
so  that  its  power  was  distributed  over  a  smaller  area  of  rock- 
surface  ;  and  where  erosion  had  produced  ruts  into  which  the 
glacier  was  pressed  down,  and  out  of  which  it  could  only  extricate 
itself  by  a  struggle. 

Throughout  the  valley,  in  conjunction  with  the  roches  mou- 
tonne'es, there  are  innumerable  angular  rock- surfaces  which  seem 
never  to  have  been  abraded  by  glacier.  These  lee-sides-  are  found 
right  up  to  the  bases  of  the  existing  glaciers.  That  is  to  say, 
they  are  found  in  spots  which  were  not  only  covered  by  ice  dining 
the  whole  of  the  period  in  which  the  ancient  glacier  of  Aosta 
1  Sec  ]..  18S.  2  See  p.  132. 


310  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPR  char  wi 

extended  t»»  I  viva,  lmt  have  been  covered  by  it.  in  quite  recent 
times.  Glacier  moved  over  them,  probably,  ages  before  the  great 
glacier  filled  the  valley  ;  and.  for  aught  we  know  to  the  contrary,  ii 
has  done  the  same  almost  ever  since.  Yet,  to  all  appearance,  i< ■<• 
has  never  touched  the  lee-sidex,  or,  if  it  has  dour  so,  it  has  been  done 
so  tenderly,  that  the  marks  have  been  subsequently  obliterated. 

Now,  whilst  it  may  readily  be  admitted  that  atmospheric  act  ion 
is  capable  of  completely  effacing  feeble  traces  of  glacier-erosion.1 
we  cannot  in  the  present  instances  admit  any  more.  The  contigu- 
ous surfaces  to  the  lee-sides,  which  are  highly  polished  and  bearing 
fine  striations,  shew  that  sun,  frost,  and  water  have  done  very  little 
upon  them  since  the  ice  departed.  It  would  be  absurd  to  suppose 
that  these  powers  have  been  able  to  rub  out  all  traces  of  ice-action 
(if  the  traces  were  other  than  very  feeble)  in  one  square  yard, 
when  in  the  next,  upon  the  same  rock,  they  have  been  unable  even 
to  roughen  the  surface,  or  get  rid  of  fine  scratches.  It  is  doubly" 
impossible  to  suppose  that  the  rock-surfaces  were  uniformly  ground 
down  by  ice,  and  that  all  the  inequalities  seen  at  the  present  time 
are  the  result  of  subsequent  decomposition.  I  do  not  think  any 
one  will  have  the  hardihood  to  assert  the  contrary. 

It  is  stated,  therefore — 1.  That  the  glacier-worn  rocks  in  the 
Valley  of  Aosta  are  chiefly  characterised  by  convexity,  and  princi- 
pally belong  to  the  class  termed  movtonne'es.  2.  That  there  are 
examples  of  roches  nivcUes  in  the  valley ;  that  they  are  rare  in  com- 
parison with  the  roches  moutonne'es ;  and  that  they  are  mostly  found 
upon  the  floor  of  the  valley,  or  in  places  where  it  is  narrowest,  or 
where  unusual  obstructions  have  occurred.  3.  That  there  arc  in- 
numerable  angular  rock-surfaces  (intermingled  with  these  glaciated 
surfaces  upon  the  floor  and  on  the  sides  of  the  valley)  which  cannot 
have  l>een  fashioned  since  glacier  covered  the  rocks.  For  the 
bearing  of  these  facts  upon  Dr.  Tyndall's  theory,  I  must  now 
recapitulate  from  Chapter  VI. 

In  the  preliminary  remarks  at  pp.  129-134,  after  appealing  to 

1  Or.  giTM  suHi<i«iit   tinif.   ■  >f*  i  lt-t  toying  highly -glaciated  surf 


en  a  i.  xvi.  ON  DEGREES  OF  GLACIATWN.  311 

Sutler's  observation  that  glacier- erosion  was  distinguished  by  the 
production  of  convex  forms,  I  proceeded  to  shew  that  such  forms 
naturally  resulted  from  glacier  working  upon  surfaces  which  had 
been  antecedently  broken  up  by  diverse  actions ;  and  pointed  out 
that  when  glacier-action  was  long  continued,  the  obliteration  of  all 
angular  surfaces,  and  of  almost  all  curves,  was  inevitable.  I  con- 
cluded, therefore  (and  accept  all  the  responsibility  which  attaches 
to  the  conclusion),  that  the  convexity  of  roches  moutonne'es  was  to  be 
regarded  as  a  proof  that  no  great  amount  of  glacier-erosion  had 
occurred ;  that  rock-surfaces  with  a  small  degree  of  convexity, 
which  had  obviously  been  glaciated,  indicated  a  greater  erosion ; 
and  that  the  degree  of  flatness  bore  a  direct  relation  to  the  amount 
of  power  which  had  been  employed.  And  further,  that  when 
unworn,  angular" rock-surfaces  were  found  in  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  glaciated  rocks,  they  were  to  be  regarded  as  additional  and 
confirmatory  evidence  that  the  depth  of  matter  taken  away  by  the 
glacier  could  not  have  been  important,  unless  it  could  be  shewn 
that  the  angularity  was  due  to  subsequent  operations. 

Applying  these  conclusions  to  the  case  of  the  Valley  of  Aosta, 
we  find — 1.  That  as  recent  denudation  has  been  unequal,  through- 
out the  valley,  to  obliterate  polish  and  fine  striations  on  the  rocks, 
we  are  unable  to  believe  that  the  vast  numbers  of  angular  surfaces 
which  are  found  in  contiguity  to  the  abraded  ones  can  possibly 
have  been  produced  subsequently  to  the  retreat  of  the  glacier. 
2.  Their  existence  in  connection  with  innumerable  convex  glaciated 
surfaces  throughout  the  valley,  is  irrefutable  evidence  that  the 
valley  was  not  excavated  by  glaciers.  3.  The  comparative  scarcity 
of  roches  niveUes,  combined  with  the  other  evidence,  affords  a  strong 
presumption  that  the  so-called  excavation  has  not  amounted, 
throughout  the  valley,  to  more  than  a  very  few  feet  of  depth. 

Hitherto,  I  have  chiefly  appealed  to  the  bed  (or  floor)  of  the 
valley.  Almost  equally  stubborn  facts  are  obtainable  from  the  slopes 
of  its  bounding  mountains.  If  the  valley  had  been  excavated  by 
glaciers,  very  emphatic  traces  would  have  been  left  behind  every- 


811  N<7.'. I.W ISLES   AMuXtlST  THE  ALPS.  OHAP.  XVh 

ir/inr, — above  as  well  as  below.     I  contend  that  ii'  the  entire  valle) 

had  been  excavated  by  glaciers,  the  surface  of  the  rucks  would 
have  been  as  smooth  as  glass,  from  one  end  to  the  other,  when  the 
ice  retired.1  Now,  I  have  frankly  admitted  (note  to  p.  olO)  that, 
given  sufficient  time,  sun,  frost,  and  water  are  capable  of  destroy 
ing  highly-glaciated  surfaces;  but  I  will  not  admit  the  possibility 
of  such  perfection  of  glaciation  as  I  have  just  indicated  being 
completely  effaced  (at  heights  exceeding  0000  feet),  while  a  few 
yards  lower  down  ice-marks  are  seen,  and  seen  everywhere.  It 
is  well  known  to  all  who  have  scrambled  amongst  the  Alps,  thai 
those  mountains  are  not  glaciated  from  summit  to  base.  The 
marks  of  the  great  glaciers  of  the  olden  time  extend  up  to  a  certain 
height,  and  then  they  cease.  This  is  the  case  throughout  the 
Alps  generally.  The  limit  of  glaciation  is  usually  placed  at  about 
9000  feet.  Above  this  limit  the  mountains  are  more  or  less 
rugged  and  angular.  Below  it,  traces  of  glaciation  are  more  or 
less  apparent.  Above  it  you  seek  in  vain  for  glacier-worn  rocks.1 
Below  it,  they  are  found  almost  everywhere.  Here  is  the  evidence 
of  Agassiz  upon  this  point: — 

"  Every  mountain-side  in  the  Alps  is  inscribed  with  these  ancient  charac- 
ters, recording  the  level  of  the  ice  in  past  times.  .  .  .  Thousand- "|  in  i 
above  the  present  level  of  the  glacier,  far  up  towards  their  summits,  we  find 
the  sides  of  the  mountains  furrowed,  scratched,  and  polished,  in  exactly  tin- 
same  manner  as  the  surfaces  over  which  the  glaciers  pass  at  present.  These 
marks  are  as  legible  and  clear  to  one  who  is  familiar  with  glacial  traces 
as  are  hieroglyphics  to  the  Egyptian  scholar  ;  indeed,  more  so, —  for  he  ad 
only  recognises  their  presence,  but  reads  their  meaning  at  a  glance.  Above 
the  line  at  which  these  indications  cease,  the  edges  of  the  rock*  an  $harp  and 
angular,  the  surface  of  the  mountain  rough,  unpolished,  and  absolutely  devoid  of 

1  See  pp.  139-40. 

a  It  is  not,  of  course,  meant  that  there  are  no  traces  of  glacirr-a, ti<>n  above  9000 
feet,  upon  rocks  bounding,  or  surrounded  by,  the  existing  glaciers.  There  are,  for 
example,  many  islands  of  rock  in  the  Alps,  surrounded  by  glacier,  at  elevations 
considerably  exceeding  9000  feet,  which  are  highly  glaciated.  I  refer  to  those 
mountains  which  are  away  from  the  existing  glaciers,  and  which  have  never  been 
influenced  by  them. 


chap.  xvr.  THE  VALLEYS  REPUDIATE  TYNDALL'S  THEORY.     313 

«Il  those  marks  resulting  from  glacial  action.1     On  the  Alps  these  traces  are 
visible  to  a  height  of  nine  thousand  feet" — Atlantic  Monthly,  Feb.  1 864. 

If  these  facts  mean  anything,  they  mean  that  great  glaciers 
did  not  extend  above  this  limit.  I  cannot  suppose  that  Dr.  Tyndall 
was  ever  a  believer  in  the  childish  notion  of  the  late  Dollfus- 
Ausset,  that  glaciers  are,  and  were,  permanently  frozen  to  the  rocks 
at  heights  exceeding  9000  feet,  and  therefore  do  not,  and  did  not, 
wear  them  away ! 2  If  that  idea  is  correct,  why  are  there  any  cre- 
vasses in  glaciers  at  heights  exceeding  9000  feet?  In  what  manner 
is  the  continuity  of  the  glaciers  maintained,  if  their  lower  portions 
move  down,  whilst  their  upper  ones  are  immovable  ?  Dr.  Tyndall 
is  far  too  well  acquainted  with  glaciers  to  believe  any  such  absurdity. 
I  maintain  that  this  evidence  (although  scarcely  so  conclusive  as 
that  which  has  preceded  it)  affords  strong  grounds  for  believing 
that  the  valleys  of  the  Alps  were  never  completely  filed  by  glaciers, 
and  therefore  that  the  valleys  were  not  excavated  by  glaciers. 

The  evidence  from  the  mouths  of  the  valleys  of  the  Alps  is  not 
less  hostile  to  Dr.  Tyndall's  theory.  For,  observe,  1.  The  glaciers 
existed  for  a  briefer  period  at  the  mouths  of  the  valleys  than  at 
their  upper  portions.  2.  The  glaciers  must  have  moved  there,  as  a 
rule,  at  a  slower  rate  than  at  the  upper  portions ;  because,  as  a  rule, 
the  gradients  at  the  mouths  were  more  moderate,  and  frequently  (as 
in  the  case  of  the  Valley  of  Aosta)  there  was  a  dead  level.  3.  The 
glaciers  had  usually  received,  before  arriving  at  the  mouths  of 
the  valleys,  the  whole  of  their  most  important  affluents,  and  must 
have  been  rapidly  diminishing  in  volume.  The  conclusion  which 
is  inevitable  from  these  considerations  is,  that  the  glaciers  must 
have  exercised  less  erosion  at  the  mouths  of  the  valleys  than  at 
their  upper  portions ;  and  this  conclusion  agrees  very  well  with 
that  arrived  at  by  Dr.  Tyndall  himself,  namely — "Lower  still  the 
elevations  diminish  and  the  slopes  become  more  gentle ;  the  cutting 

1  The  italics  are  not  in  the  original. 

2  See  Matiriaux  pour  Vitude  des  Glaciers,  vol.  i.  part  iii.  p.  11.     The  same  idea 
is  rej>eated  at  several  other  places  in  the  same  work. 

2  s 


314  SrjiAMm.KS  AMOXUST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  xvi. 

power  gradually  relaxes,  and  finally  tin-  eroding  agent  quits  the 

mountains  altogether,  and  the  grand  effects  which  it  produced  in 
the  earlier  portion  of  its  course  entirely  disappear." l    But  does  this 

conclusion  agree  with  the  fact  that  the  valleys  are  usually  wider 
—  much  wider— at  their  mouths  than  elsewhere,  and  that  the  \>rA> 
of  the  valleys  at  their  mouths  are  at  a  lower  level  than  al  the  upper 
extremities  ?  If  the  glaciers  had  flowed  up  the  valleys,  these  facta 
might  be  explicable;  but  they  are  unintelligible  it'  the  valleys  were 
excavated  by  glaciers  which  (lowed  doum  them. 

The  mouths,  the  beds,  the  walls,  and  the  terminations  of  the 
valleys,  and  the  slopes  of  the  mountains  which  bound  them,  pro- 
claim alike  that  the  present  modelling  of  the  Alps  has  been  only 
slightly  modified  by  glaciers.  It  would,  however,  be  unreasonable 
to  conclude,  because  such  is  the  case,  that  glaciers  are  incompetent 
to  excavate  valleys  under  any  circumstances;  and,  before  taking 
leave  of  Professor  Tyndall,  it  is  only  due  to  him  to  examine  his 
opinions  upon  the  subject.  He  is,  like  Professor  Ramsay,  a  great 
believer  in  "soft  places."  He  believes  not  only  that  glaciers  erode 
soft  rocks  more  rapidly  than  hard  ones  (which  is  a  reasonable 
belief),  but  he  considers  that  all  the  chief  inequalities  which  are  q<  m 
seen  in  valleys  that  have  been  worked  upon  by  glaciers  are  due  to 
the  greater  or  less  resistancy  of  the  rocks  to  the  action  of  tin  iee, 
"  Were  its  bed  uniform  in  the  first  instance,  the  glacier  would,  in 
my  opinion,  produce  the  inequalities."2  Now,  I  could  not  differ 
greatly  from  Dr.  Tyndall,  if  he  were  to  say  that  glaciers  must  wear 
away  soft  rocks  more  rapidly  than  hard  ones,  and  that  they  might, 
in  consequence,  ultimately  produce  inequalities,  it'  set  to  work  upon 
a  smooth  surface  containing  both  hard  and  soft  places.  But  he 
goes  far  beyond  this.  It  is  necessary  for  him  to  explain  how  it 
comes  to  pass  that  such  masses  are  left  behind  as  that  at  Montalto, 
at  the  entrance  of  the  Valley  of  Aosta,  or  those  upon  which  the 
castles  of  Sion  stand.  The  valleys  of  Aosta  and  of  the  Rhone,  he 
says,  have  been  excavated  by  glaciers,  yet  here  are  these  obstinate 

1  Phi/   Mag.,  Oct.  1864,  p.  264.  -  Phil.  Mag  ,  Oct.  I8M,  p.  266. 


oka*.  \\i.  OBJECTIONS.  315 

crags  standing  in  the  very  centres  of  the  valleys.  They  must  have 
been  exposed  to  the  lull  force  of  the  glaciers;  nay,  the  ice-streams 
were  evidently  split  by  them,  and  had  to  tl<>w  upon  cither  side  and 
over  them.  "  Assuredly,"  says  Dr.  Tyndall,  "  a  glacier  is  competent 
to  remove  such  barriers,  and  they  probably  have  been  ground  down 
in  some  cases  thousands  of  feet.  But  being  of  a  more  resisting 
material  than  the  adjacent  rock,  they  were  not  ground  down  to  the 
level  of  that  rock."  *  Examination  of  such  masses  has  led  me  to 
form  a  very  different  opinion.  The  contours  of  their  rocks,  upon 
the  sides  opposed  to  the  direction  of  the  flow  of  the  glaciers,  are 
frequently  flatter,  and  suggestive  of  a  greater  degree  of  abrasion, 
than  the  adjacent  and  lower  rocks.  They  have  been  lowered  more, 
not  less,  than  their  surroundings.  Yet  the  indications,  are,  as  a  rule, 
that  these  obtrusive  crags  have  only  been  lowered  to  a  trifling  ex- 
tent, and,  most  certainly,  not  thousands  of  feet.  Still,  let  us  sup- 
pose, for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  the  adjacent  rocks  were  actually 
softer,  and  were  ground  down  a  hundred  or  more  feet  upon  each 
side  of  the  hard  crags,  which,  in  consequence,  became  that  amount 
above  the  level  of  their  surroundings.  The  adjacent  rocks  would 
then,  according  to  my  opinion,  have  been  prodigiously  eroded ;  all 
their  angles  would  have  been  obliterated  ;  they  would  have  become 
exceeding  flat,  and  such  forms  as  they  would  present  would  be 
characteristic  of  a  high  degree  of  glaciation.  Yet  we  find  that  such 
is  Twt  the  case.  The  rocks  adjacent  to  the  crags  are  frequently  less 
flat,  less  abraded  than  the  crags,2  and,  to  all  appearance,  their 
surfaces  have  not  been  lowered  more  than  a  very  few  feet.  The 
conclusions  are  inevitable  in  such  cases  that  the  adjacent  rocks 
have  suffered  less  than  the  obtrusive  crags,  and  that  any  real  or 
imaginary  softness  of  rock  has  not  assisted  glacier-erosion  to  the 
extent  assumed  by  Dr.  Tyndall. 

The  enormous  amount  of  excavation  assumed  by  Dr.  Tyndall 
is  further  accounted  for  by  him  upon  the  supposition  that  glaciers 

1  Phil.  Mag.,  Oct.  1864,  p.  266. 
1  I  do  not  know  an  instance  where  the  reverse  is  the  case. 


316 


SORAMM.ks  .\M<>.x<;sr  rill-:    i /./>'. 


CHAP.   W  I. 


an  competent  to  "  root  masses  (of  rook)  bodily  away."  '    He  aeenu 

t»>  feel  that  mere  grinding,  rasping,  and  polishing  would  not  l>e 
equal  to  the  production  of  valleys,  thousands  of  feet  in  depth,  in 
any  reasonable  length  of  time,  ami  so  invokes  this  quicker  process 
to  get  himself  out  of  the  difficulty.  When  and  how  Dr.  Tyndall 
became  possessed  of  this  extraordinary  idea  I  have  do  means  <>f 
telling.  Comparison  of  the  following  passages  would  lead  one  to 
suppose  that  it  was  acquired  posterior  to  the  publication  of  his 
Glaciers  of  the  Al])s: — 


"The  lighter  debris  is  scattered 
by  tlie  winds  far  and  wide  over  the 
glacier,  sullying  the  purity  of  its 
surface.  Loose  shingle  rattles  at  in- 
tervals down  the  sides  of  the  mount- 
ains, and  falls  upon  the  ice  where  it 
touches  the  rocks.  Large  rocks  are 
continually  let  loose,  which  come 
jumping  from  ledge  to  ledge,  the 
cohesion  of  some  being  proof  against 
the  shocks  which  they  experience ; 
while  others,  when  they  hit  the 
links,  hurst  like  bomb -shells,  and 
shower  their  fragments  upon  the  ice. 
Thus  the  glacier  is  incessantly  loaded 
along  its  borders  with  the  ruins  of 
the  mountains  which  limit  it" — 
Glaciers  of  the  Alps,  Chapter  on 
Moraines,  p.  263  (1860). 


"In     the     vast     quantities     "1 

moraine-matter  winch  cumbers  many 
of  the  valleys  we  have  also  sugges- 
tions as  to  the  magnitude  of  the 
erosion  which  has  taken  place  This 
moraine-matter,  moreover,  it  only  in 
part  derived  from  the  falling  of  rocks 
from  the  eminences  upon  the  glacier  ; 
it  is  also  in  great  part  derived  f rum  tin 
grinding  and  ploughing  -  out  of  the 
glacier  itself.  This  accounts  for  the 
magnitude  of  many  of  these  ancient 
moraines,  which  date  from  a  period 
when  almost  all  the  mountain-  were 
covered  with  ice  and  snow,  and  when 
consequently  the  quantity  of  nioraine- 
matter  derived  from  the  naked  crests 
cannot  have  teen  considerable."  * — 
Phil  Mag.,  Oct  1864,  p.  271. 


It  has  been  already  shewn  (pp.  312-13)  that  the  notion  that 
the  Alps  were  completely  covered  by  glaciers  (or  anything  like 
completely  covered)  is  erroneous,  and  the  evidence  which  leads  to 
that  conclusion  is  clearly  supported  by  the  fact  that  a  great  propor- 
tion (I  think  it  may  be  said  the  great  proportion)  of  the  materials 
are  lingular  which  compose  the  moraines  of  the  past,  as  well  as  of 


l'liil.  Mag.,  Oct  1864,  p.  265. 


»  See  p.  8St 


chap.  xvi.     CONCLUSIONS  ABOUT  TYNDALL'S  THEORY.  317 

tin-  existing  glaciers  of  the  Alps.1  Their  angularity  is  a  certain 
proof  that  they  were  borne  upon  the  glaciers,  and  were  not  trans- 
ported under  them.  For,  if  they  had  been  forced  along  underneath 
the  ice,  they  would  most  certainly  have  become,  at  the  least, 
sub-angular,  or  rounded  or  scratched.  It  is  well  known  that  this 
is  what  takes  place  at  the  present  time  in  regard  to  debris 
underneath  glaciers,  and  that  the  pebbles  and  boulders  which  are 
moved  along  in  such  a  way  acquire  a  character  of  their  own  which 
is  unmistakable.  The  moraines,  then,  do  not  support,  but  clearly 
reject,  Dr.  Tyndall's  notion.  Nor  is  the  evidence  of  the  rocks 
from  which  he  supposes  that  masses  have  been  "  rooted  away  " 
less  distinctly  against  him.  How  could  masses  be  broken  away 
without  angular  surfaces  being  left  behind  ?  and  how  is  it  that  in 
those  places  where  glacier-action  has  been  most  powerful,  angular 
surfaces  are  most  wanting  ?  Dr.  Tyndall  appeals  to  the  magnitude 
of  the  old  glaciers,  and  to  the  enormous  pressure  which  they 
exerted  upon  their  beds,  to  explain  his  "rooting  away,"  as  con- 
fidently as  if  his  case  was  completely  proved  thereby.  Yet,  in  those 
places  where  glaciers  have  been  the  greatest,  and  where  their 
pressure  has  been  the  most  tremendous,  and  exerted  for  the 
greatest  length  of  time,  we  find  the  rocks  which  have  been  worked 
upon  are  the  most  highly  polished,  the  most  flat  in  contour,  and 
the  most  devoid  of  all  angularity  whatsoever! 

It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  the  theory  of  "soft  places,"  as 
applied  by  Dr.  Tyndall,  cannot  be  sustained,  and  does  not  assist 
us  to  determine  how  far  glaciers  are  competent  to  excavate 
valleys.  The  idea  is  plausible  that  soft  rocks  must  suffer  more 
rapidly  than  hard  ones  under  the  grinding  of  glaciers,  and  may  be 
admitted ;  but  it  will  be  shewn  presently  that  there  are  things  to 
be  said  upon  the  other  side.     The  notion  that  glaciers  root  away 

1  I  am,  of  course,  aware  that  there  are  glacial  deposits  in  Great  Britain,  and 
elsewhere,  in  which  sub-angular  and  scratched  stones  are  largely  in  excess  of  those 
which  are  simply  angular.  The  manner  in  which  such  deposits  were  formed  is  not 
yet  clearly  understood. 


318  8CRAMBLSS  AMONGST  THE  ALPB.  ohap.  xtl 

i  r«K-k  incessantly,  or  to  any  great,  extent,  must  be  unhoi- 
tatingly  rejected  as  being  opposed  to  reason  and  to  facts.1  Sow- 
ever,  "confining  the  actj f  glaciers  to  the  simple  robbing  away 

of  the  nicks,  and  allowing  thciu  sufficient  time  to  act.  it  is  not  | 
mutter  of  opinion,  but  a  physioa]  certainty,  thai  they"  would  pro- 
duce cuvities  or  depressions  of  one  sort  or  another.  Given  <t,  ritit;i, 
glaciers  might  even  grind  On!  valleys  of  B  peculiar  kind.  Such 
hollows  would  bear  little  resemblance  to  the  valleys  of  the  Alps. 
They  might  be  interesting,  but  they  would  be  miserably  un- 
picturesque.  The  bob-nailed  boots  of  Alpine  tourists  would  be 
useless  in  them;  we  should  have  to  employ  fell  slippers  or  skates, 
I  have  advanced  only  a  few  of  the  more  obvious  objections  to 
this  theory.  Many  others  might  be  urged.  Had  Dr.  Tymlall 
confined  himself  to  stating  that  glaciers  were  competent  to  ex- 
cavate valleys,  without  offering  examples,  and  without  attempting 
to  shew  how  they  would  do  it,  various  persons  might  have  differed 
from  him,  but  would  have  done  so  chiefly  in  degree.  The  declara- 
tion that  the  valleys  of  the  Alps  bad  actually  been  so  excavated 
was  a  statement  of  a  much  more  advanced  and  of  a  much  graver 
nature.  There  are  many  persons,  I  am  convinced,  who  would 
learn  with  satisfaction  that  he  repudiates  a  doctrine  which  oan 
be  disproved  in  a  multitude  of  ways,  and  which  is  flatly  contra- 
dicted by  a  host  of  facts. 

Whatever  may  be  the  popular  opinion  about  Professor  Ramsaj  'a 
theory  regarding  the  formation  of  rock-basins,  its  author  was  en- 
titled to  credit  for  attempting  to  grapple  with  an  acknowledged 
difficulty.1     Exceptions  can  be  taken  to  it,  of  course.     It  may  be 

1  It  has  been  already  admitted  (§  5,  p.  132)  that  the  minor  asperities  of  r<><  k> 
■offer,  and  may  be  actually  crushed  or  scraped  away.  That  this  happen!  cannot  be 
doubted,  but  this  (conijtaratively  speaking)  speedily  comes  to  an  end.  It  is  mere 
brushing  of  the  surface  preparatory  to  polishing. 

3  Professor  (Sir  A.)  Ramsay  died  upon  the  9th  of  December  1891,  without 
having,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  either  retracted  or  nioditicd  his  opinions  regarding 
the  origin  of  lake-basins. 


chap.  xvi.  "THE  ONLY  REMAINING  AGENT."  319 

asked,  at  the  very  outset,  Is  it  absolutely  necessary  to  accept  this 
dogma  that  the  only  remaining  agent  is  the  denuding  power  of 
ice  ?  Have  we  arrived  at  the  end  of  all  knowledge  ?  And  the 
cogency  of  the  reasoning  may  be  doubted  by  which  the  conclusion 
is  derived,  that  rock-basins  have  necessarily  been  excavated  by  ice, 
because  they  are  commonly  found  in  districts  which  were  formerly 
covered  by  glacier.  It  may  be  said  that  the  connection  which  has 
been  shewn  between  the  two1  may  be  nothing  more  than  an 
accidental  coincidence,  and  that,  taken  by  itself,  it  is  scarcely 
more  convincing  than  that  icebergs  have  made  the  Arctic  seas, 
because  those  seas  are  full  of  icebergs.  Such  objections,  however, 
do  not  touch  Professor  Ramsay's  main  arguments ;  and  I  think 
that  any  one  who  honestly  endeavours  to  master  them  will  feel 
that  they  are  very  ingenious,  and  by  no  means  easy  to  refute. 

It  is  impossible  to  deny  a  certain  limited  power  of  erosion  to 
glaciers ;  and  it  is  difficult  to  see  why  a  great  glacier  should  not 
make  a  hollow  (a  shallow  one)  if  it  were  to  come  down  upon  a  plain, 
and  work  there  for  a  long  time.  For  example,  let  A  C  B  D,  in  the 
accompanying  diagram,  be  a  transverse  section  of  a  glacier  which 
is  moving  over  level  ground,  A  G  D  F  B.  The  glacier  would  natu- 
rally be  thickest  towards  the  centre,  and  its  motion  would  probably 
be  greatest  in  the  same  neighbourhood.  It  should  therefore  wear 
away  its  bed  to  a  greater  extent  at  or  about  the  point  D  than  any- 
where else;  and  as  the  motion  and  weight  of  the  ice  would  be 
greater  at  or  about  F  and  G  than  at  points  between  F  B  or  G  A,  so 
also  would  the  erosion  be  greater  thereabouts.  In  short,  it  is  reason- 
able to  conclude  that  in  course  of  time  the  glacier  might  form  a 
hollow  in  its  previously  level  bed,  such  as  is  represented  by  the  dotted 
line  a  E  B.  This  would  account  for  the  hollowing  out  of  rock- 
basins  across  their  shorter  axes.     I  do  not  merely  think  that  this 

1  Professor  Ramsay  claims  to  be  the  first  who  has  pointed  out  this  connection. 
Professor  Dana  extends  the  statement  still  further  :  —  "  Another  great  fact  that  belongs 
to  the  Drift  latitudes  on  all  the  continents,  and  may  have  the  same  origin,  is  the 
occurrence,  on  the  coasts,  of  fiord  valleys, — deep,  narrow  channels,  occupied  by  the  sea 
and  extending  inward  often  50  or  100  miles." — Manual  ofOfology,  1867,  p.  641. 


320  ><■  I: A  MULES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS!  chap.  xvi. 

is  what  mii/fit  happen,  hut  that  it  is  what  miiM  happen  in  com-'  of 
time:    and  saying  as  much  is  practically  admitting  the  powei    od 


c 

7 r 


glaciers  to  produce  concavities  in  large  areas  of  rock.  It  may 
seem  now  as  if  all  were  conceded  that  was  required  hy  Professor 
Ramsay.  It  is  not  so.  Thoagb  his  principle  appears  to  me  to  be 
sound,  his  conclusions  seem  entirely  unwarrantable.  There  is  not 
the  least  doubt  that  rocks  underneath  the  thicker  parts  of  the 
existing  glaciers  are  being  worn  away  and  polished  to  a  greater 
extent  than  those  which  are  covered  by  a  small  amount  of  ice. 
The  same  must  have  happened  in  the  past.  But  these  differences 
in  the  depth  of  erosion  may,  I  think,  be  disregarded,  because  the 
difference  between  the  maximum  and  the  minimum  in  any  given 
area  would  not  amount  to  more  than  a  very  few  feet;  as  the 
evidence  which  has  already  been  recounted  tends  to  shew  that 
glacier-erosion  has  been  insignificant  at  any  and  every  part  of  the 
valleys,  and  the  valleys,  it  must  always  be  remembered,  were 
occupied  by  the  glaciers  for  more  time  than  the  plains  out  of 
which  Professor  Ramsay  would  have  us  believe  that  his  great 
lake-basins  were  excavated. 

To  the  foregoing  remarks  the  Professor  has  two  answers.  Risi . 
he  has  the  idea  that  the  retardation  which  a  glacier  would  experi- 
ence upon  its  arrival  on  a  plain  would  tend  to  "heap-up"  the  foe 
(see  p.  307).  This  is  no  doubt  correct.  He  considers  that  t la- 
glacier  would  in  consequence  "attain  an  unusual  thickness,  thus 
exercising,  after  its  descent,  an  extra  erosive  power."  Here  we  get 
into  the  region  of  surmises.  To  this  we  may  demur.  For  be 
overlooks,  or,  at  least,  does  not  notice,  that  the  glacier  would  be 
melting  at  a  rapid  rate,  at  or  near  its  end,  and  that,  in  all  prob- 
ability, the  extra  ablation  would  counterbalance  whatever  thick- 


chap.  xvi.  ON  'SOFT  PLACE*:  321 

ening  might  arise  from  the  tendency  to  "  heap-up."  The  "  unusual 
thickness"  by  which  he  gets  his  "extra  erosive  power,"  is  entirely 
conjectural,  and,  judging  by  the  glaciers  of  the  present  time,  it  is 
very  doubtful  if  it  had  any  existence  whatever.  If  the  Professor 
had  pointed  to  a  single  glacier  which  was  doubled  in  thickness 
through  retardation,  he  would  have  materially  fortified  his  argu- 
ment ;  but,  in  the  absence  of  any  such  evidence,  we  may  be 
permitted  to  doubt  if  there  is  much  force  in  his  idea.1 

Secondly,  the  great  basins  which  Professor  Ramsay  believed 
were  excavated  by  glaciers,2  are  assumed  to  have  been  scooped 
out  of  areas  filled  by  especially  soft  strata,  which  were  removed 
with  comparative  facility,  and  at  a  rapid  rate.  Very  eminent  geo- 
logists disbelieve  in  the  existence  of  these  especially  soft  areas.3 
Others,  again,  offer  evidence  which  leads  us  to  believe  that  some  of 
the  great  Alpine  lake -basins  existed  before  the  glacial  period.4 
But  let  us  suppose  that  they  are  all  wrong,  and  that  the  Professor 
was  right.  Let  us  suppose,  too,  that  retardation  actually  doubled 
the  thickness  of  the  glaciers.  Taking  all  this  for  granted,  it  is 
still  incomprehensible  how  the  ancient  glacier  of  the  Rhone 
managed  to  excavate  the  bed  of  the  Lake  of  Geneva  to  the  depth 
of  984  feet  (opposite  to  Evian),  when  it  was  unable  to  remove  a 
tenth  part  of  that  amount  from  the  Valley  of  the  Rhone  (say 
between  Sion   and   Sierre);    for  it   was   working   for  a  greater 

1  No  one  can  consult  the  excellent  map  which  accompanies  Martins'  and  Gastaldi's 
Terrains  Superficiels  without  seeing  in  a  moment,  from  the  disposition  of  the 
moraines,  that  the  great  glacier  of  Aosta  spread  itself  out  lehcn  it  arrived  upon  the 
jiliiin.  Hence,  any  material  thickening  through  retardation  was  impossible.  It  can 
readily  be  shewn  that  this  spreading-out  frequently  occurs  to  the  glaciers  of  the  pre- 
sent time,  when  they  pass  from  confined  places  on  to  open  spaces  (places  where  the 
valleys  widen). 

2  The  basins  of  the  Lakes  of  Geneva,  Neuchatel,  Thun,  Zug,  Lucerne,  Zurich, 
Constance,  etc.  etc. 

3  For  example,  see  the  remarks  of  Prof.  Favre  upon  the  Lake  of  Geneva,  in 
/'hi/.  Mag.,  March  1865. 

*  Sir  Charles  Lyell,  for  example.  In  regard  to  the  Lake  of  Zurich,  etc.,  see  his 
Antiquity  of  Man,  3rd  ed.,  pp.  314-16. 

2T 


ISA  80RAMBLE8  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap,  m 

Length  of  time  in  the  valley,  and  no  doubt  with  a  higher  rate  of 
motion,  than  it  was  upon  the  bed  of  the  Lake  of  Gem 

I  have  often  wondered,  considering  the  extent  to  which 
Professors  Ramsay  and  Tyndall  lean  upon  soft  places,  that  they, 
or  some  of  their  pupils,  have  not  thought  it  worth  while  to  poinl 
out  examples,  upon  a  small  and  upon  a  Large  scale,  <>i'  soft  rocks 
which  have  been  eroded  by  glaciers  to  a  greater  extent  than  harder 
rocks  in  their  immediate  vicinity.  If  Professor  Ramsay  was  correct 
in  supposing  that  glaciers  wear  away  soft  rocks  with  much  greater 
rapidity  than  hard  ones,  it  ought  to  be  a  very  easy  thing  to  pro- 
duce examples.  Yet,  so  far  as  I  know,  not  one  of  the  principal 
writers  upon  this  subject  has  ever  attempted  to  /u-<>n  thai  glacier- 
erosion  proceeds  at  an  accelerated  rate  upon  soft  rocks,  and  is  re- 
tarded by  hard  ones.  It  has  been  repeatedly  asserted,  or  assumed. 
that  such  is  the  case,  but  proofs  have  been  very  rarely  advanced. 

Whilst  this  is  the  case,  it  has  been  frequently  remarked  by 
writers  upon  glacier-action  (who  do  not  seem,  however,  to  have 
attached  any  particular  importance  to  the  fact),  that  quartz-veins 
are  cut  down,  by  the  passage  of  ice  over  them,  to  the  level  of  the 
rocks  in  which  they  are  found.  Quartz,  one  of  the  very  hardest 
of  commonly-diffused  minerals,  is  unable  to  resist  the  grinding  of 
glacier.  Its  hardness  does  not  prevent  its  being  polished  down 
to  the  same  extent  as  the  much  less  resistant  rocks  which  enclose 
it.  If  it  suffered  less  than  its  surroundings,  it  would,  of  course, 
protrude.  It  does  not,  because  it  is  eroded  equally  with  the  much 
softer  rock.  No  distinction  is  made  by  the  glacier,  and  the  presence 
of  the  quartz  is  not  sensible  to  the  touch  from  any  elevation  <>r 
depression. 

If  glacier-Worn  rocks  containing  veins  of  quartz  are  exposed 
to  the  influences  of  sun,  frost,  and  water,  it  is  not  long  before  the 
quartz  begins  to  assert  its  superior  resistancy.  If  it  is  in  gneiss, 
the  gneiss  in  contact  with  it  speedily  Buffers.  Minute  cracks 
radiate  from  the  junction  of  the  two  substances  over  the  surface 
Of   the    weaker   material.       Water   enters    the    tiny    fissures,   and. 


0 1 1 a i '.  xv i .  Ur<>\  11 A  1! I >  l' LA CES.  X -1  :$ 

expanding  ondar  the  influence  of  cold,  renda  away  grain  by  grain, 

until  at  length,  as  in  the  accompanying 
diagram  at  A  and  B,  little  ravines  are 
formed  upon  each  side  of  the  quartz- 
win   Q.1 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  glaciated 
rocks  continue  to  experience  the  grind- 
ing  of    glacier,   nothing   of    this    kind 

results.  The  tendency  of  the  quartz  to  protrude  is  incessantly 
checked,  because,  at  the  slightest  suspicion  of  protrusion,  it  is 
attacked  by  the  ice  with  increased  power.  If  by  any  chance  the 
quartz  becomes  elevated  above  the  surrounding  rock,  it  hears  off 
the  weight  of  ice  from  the  surrounding  rock,  and  this  condition 
of  affairs  continues  until  both  quartz  and  gneiss  are  brought  to 
the  same  level. 

There  is  little  difference  of  opinion  about  these  matters.  It  is 
perfectly  well  known  that  projections  in  the  bed  of  a  glacier  are 
attacked  by  the  ice,  and  that  depressions  escape  abrasion  through  the 
protection  afforded  by  the  eminences.2  Hence  it  is  that  ultimately 
all  angles  and  almost  all  curves  are  obliterated  from  the  surfaces 
of  rocks  upon  which  glaciers  work.  Hence  it  is  that  in  a  district 
which  has  been  severely  eroded  by  glacier  we  find  the  rocks  more 
flat — that  is,  less  convex — than  in  one  which  has  suffered  less. 

It  is  evident,  then,  that  glacier  does  not  and  cannot  dig  away 
into  soft  places  occupying  limited  areas.  This  is  not  a  matter  of 
opinion,  but  a  certainty ;  and  it  seems  to  me  to  be  entirely  un- 

1  In  Greenland  I  have  seen  gneiss  cracked  away  from  quartz- veins  in  glaciated 
rocks,  in  this  manner,  to  a  depth  of  two  inches  and  more.  Where  the  same  veins 
had  been  protected  from  the  atmosphere,  they  were  without  the  little  trenches  on 
each  side.  To  the  same  effect  see  Geikie  On  Modem  Denudation,  Trans.  Geol.  Soc. 
Glasgow,  1868. 

2  "In  descending  from  the  summit  of  the  Weisshorn  on  the  19th  of  August  last 
I  found,  near  the  flanks  of  one  of  its  glaciers,  a  portion  of  the  ice  completely  roofing  a 
hollow,  over  which  it  luul  been  urged  without  being  squeezed  into  it." — Tyndall's  Mount- 
aineering in  1861,  p.  73.  Dr.  Tyndall's  testimony  is  especially  valuable,  because  he 
is  by  no  means  prejudiced  in  favour  of  the  views  which  I  am  supporting. 


324  SCKAMIU.ES   AMo.XCST   THE   A  LI'S.  chap.  xvi. 

warrantable  to  assert,  in  the  face  of  n  well-ascertained  fact  like  this,  * 
that  the  pools  and  small  tarns  Lying  in  roek-hasins  (which  toe 
numerous  in  almost  all  mountainous  countries)  owe  their  existence 
to  taxavaiing  power  of  glacier,  merely  ln-caiise  glacier  lias  passed 
over  the  spots  which  they  occupy  ;  ami,  to  say  the  least,  to  l>e  in- 
judicious to  apply  terms  like  "scooping  out"  to  the  rounding  and 
polishing-up  of  the  l>eds  of  such  pools,  because  those  terms  convey 
an  impression  that  is  entirely  erroneous.  The  hollows  in  which 
such  pools  are  found  would  necessarily  have  been  obliterated,  not 
deepened,  if  the  glaciers  had  worked  for  a  greater  length  of  time.1 

Professor  liamsay  held  the  directly  contrary  opinion.  Unless 
I  am  entirely  mistaken  in  regard  to  his  ideas,  he  supposed  that  the 
beds  of  almost  all  pools,  tarns,  and  lakes,  which  lie  in  true  rock- 
basins,  have  been  scooped  out  or  excavated  by  glaciers.  As  a  rule 
he  did  not  consider  that  these  lakes  occupied  hollows  which  were 
formed  either  entirely  or  in  part  through  upheaval  or  subsidence 
(either  or  both),  or  antecedent  erosion,  but  that  these  lake-basins 
are  simply  holes  which  glaciers  have  dug  out.  How  or  in  what 
way  the  glaciers  did  the  work,  I  have  not  the  most  remote  idea. 
I  turn  the  Professor's  pages  over  and  over  without  gaining  the 
slightest  clue.2     But  I  gather  from  the  Proceedings  of  the  Geological 

1  Sir  Charles  Lyell  remarks  with  mueli  force,  in  the  6th  ed.  of  his  Elements,  p.  170, 
"  Where  op|>ortunities  are  enjoyed  of  seeing  part  of  a  valley  from  which  a  glacier  has 
rebutted  in  historical  times,  no  basin-shaped  hollows  are  conspicuous.  Dome-shapi id 
protuberances,  the  rocfics  mvutonnees,  before  described,  are  frequent ;  but  the  converse 
of  them,  or  cup-and-saucer-shaped  cavities,  are  wanting."  The  justness  of  these  ob- 
servations is  undeniable.  The  perusal  of  Professor  Ramsay's  paj>ers  would  lead  any 
one  personally  unacquainted  with  glaciated  rocks  to  conclude  that  the  reverse  was  t  lie 
case — that  saucer-shaped  hollows  were  abundant,  or,  in  other  words,  that  concavities 
predominated. 

2  I  cannot  find  anything  more  explicit  than  this: — "The  greater  number  lie  in 
rock-basins  fanned  by  the  grinding  of  glacier-ice."  This  is  simple  assertion  ;  now  for 
the  proof.  "Sometimes  in  the  convolutions  of  the  strata  (conjoined  witli  preglacial 
denudation  subsequent  to  the  contortion  of  the  beds)  softer  parts  of  the  OOOnbrj  MOf 
have  licen  scooped  out ;  but  perhaps  more  generally  they  were  formed  by  the  greater 
thickness  and  weight  of  glacier-ice  on  particular  areas,  due  to  accidents  to  which  it  is 
now  often  difficult  or  impossible  to  find  the  clue." — Proc.  Oeol.  Soc.,  1862,  p.  188. 


chap.  xvi.  GLACIATION  IN  GREENLAND.  325 

Society,  that  it  was  from  the  examination  of  the  small  pools  he  first 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  glaciers  scooped  out  basins  in  rock ; 
that  lie  was  at  first  "  too  timid  to  include  the  larger  lakes;"  and 
that  becoming  convinced  the  larger  lakes  occupied  true  rock-basins, 
he  included  them  in  the  category  of  lakes  which  had  l)een  formed 
by  the  agency  of  glacier,  because  glacier  alone,  in  his  opinion,  is 
capable  of  excavating  true  rock-basins ! 

The  smaller  idea  has  been  shewn  to  be  fallacious,  and  it  might 
be  said  that  the  larger  one,  which  is  built  upon  it,  necessarily  falls 
through.  This  is  scarcely  the  case.  The  former  deals  with  square 
yards,  and  the  latter  with  square  miles.  A  glacier  we  know,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  polishes  down  a  quartz-vein  in  the  same  way  as  it 
does  a  bed  of  soft  limestone.  A  plane  which  is  adapted  for  plan- 
ing wood  may  cut  through  a  nail  in  a  plank  whilst  taking  off  a 
shaving.  But  the  plane  is  unable  to  take  a  shaving  off  a  solid  mass 
of  iron,  and  it  might  be  said,  with  some  plausibility,  that  a  glacier 
might  be  equally  impotent  if  it  had  to  work  over  square  miles  of 
quartz  instead  of  square  feet.  To  form  a  just  idea  of  the  probability 
of  a  glacier  producing  a  lake-basin  in  one  place  (in  soft  strata),  when 
during  the  same,  or  a  longer,  period,  it  only  slightly  erodes  the  sur- 
face at  another  place  (hard  strata),  we  ought  to  find  out  the  effects 
which  are  actually  produced  by  glaciers  when  working  over  a  series 
of  strata  of  unequal  hardness,  where  the  strike  of  the  beds  coincides 
with  the  direction  of  the  motion  of  the  ice.  The  idea,  indeed, 
occurred  to  me,  that  insignificant  quartz-veins  might  resist  the 
grinding  of  glacier  if  they  were  worked  upon  longitudinally.  It 
is  not,  of  course,  an  easy  thing  to  find  a  vein  of  quartz  which 
has  been  worked  upon  longitudinally  for  a  considerable  distance ; 
and  I  have  never  observed  a  better  example  than  that  which 
is  described  in  the  fallowing  paragraph. 

In  1867,  upon  the  shores  of  a  fiord,  about  nine  miles  to  the  east 
of  the  settlement  of  Claushavn  in  North  Greenland,  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  discover  the  finest  examples  ofrochcs  nivele'es  which  I  have 
seen  anywhere.     The  great  interior  mer  de  glace  was  near  at  hand, 


:!•_'•;  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  xvj. 

and  a  branch  of  it  closed  the  i  1 1  lit  with  ail  unbroken  wall  of  ice, 
which  was  nearly  a  mile  across.  This  branch  had  formerly  tilled 
the  fiord,  and  had  apparently  covered  the  place  to  which  I  refer  at 
no  ver\  remote  date.  Tremendous  evidences  of  its  power  had  been 
left  behind.  The  gneiss  upon  tin;  shores  was  literally  levelled,  ami 
extended  for  hundreds  of  yards  in  continuous  sheets,  with  polished 
surfaces  destitute  of  all  detritus,  difficult  to  walk  upon,  for  there 
was  nothing  to  arrest  the  feet  when  they  slipped.  In  these  rocks 
there  were  two  great  veins  of  quartz,  each  three  to  four  feet  thick, 
which  attracted  notice  at  a  considerable  distance  by  their  brilliancy 
when  the  sun  fell  upon  them.  These  ran  roughly  parallel  to  each 
other  for  about  eighty  yards,  and  throughout  that  distance  their 
direction  had  nearly  coincided  with  that  in  which  the  glacier  had 
moved.  The  glacier  had  passed  over  them  at  an  angle  of  about 
10°.  Upon  this  quartz  my  hammer  danced  and  rang,  and  made 
scarcely  any  impression.  I  chipped  away  the  gneiss  without  diffi- 
culty. The  glacier  had  worked  upon  two  substances  of  unequal 
resistancy.  Yet,  if  a  line  had  been  stretched  -between  the  highest 
points  across  any  hundred  feet  of  these  sheets  of  rock,  I  do  not 
think  that  any  part  of  the  rock  would  have  been  depressed  one  foot 
lx?low  the  cord.  The  quartz,  instead  of  standing  up  in  ridges,  as  1 
thought  it  might  have  done,  was  cut  down  to  the  same  level  as  the 
gneiss ;  the  keenest  scrutiny  could  not  detect  the  least  difference. 

It  was  evident,  from  the  entire  obliteration  of  form,  that  these 
rocks  had  had  enormous  power  exerted  upon  them,  and  that  a  not 
inconsiderable  depth  of  rock  had  been  removed.  It  is  immaterial 
whether  the  effects  had  been  produced  by  comparatively  limited 
force  spread  over  an  enormous  length  of  time,  or  whether  by  greater 
force  in  a  less  time.  The  same  effects  would  have  been  produced 
if  the  same  amount  of  abrading  power  had  been  exerted  over  an 
equal  area  of  similar  rock  in  the  Alps.  But  it  is  doubtful,  perhaps, 
if  there  is  in  the  Alps  an  equal  area  of  rock  which  can  be  compared 
for  perfection  of  glaciation  to  that  of  which  I  have  spoken.  I  think 
it  may  certainly  be  asserted  that  there  is  not  either  in  the  Valley  of 


chap.  xvi.  LAKE-BEDS  WANTED.  327 

the  Phone  or  in  the  Valley  of  Aosta.  The  glacier-worn  rocks  of 
those  valleys,  and  of  the  Alps  generally,  are  notable  for  their  con- 
vexity, and  this  affords  evidence  that  the  Alps  have  been  subjected 
to  less  abrading  power  than  the  district  in  Greenland  to  the  east 
of  Claushavn.  Now,  if  there  is  any  truth  in  the  assumption  that 
glaciers  dig  away  into  soft  rocks  with  much  greater  rapidity  than  into 
hard  ones,  there  is,  of  course,  greater  opportunity  for  the  exercise 
of  this  discriminative  excavation  when  great  power  is  exerted  and 
when  great  erosion  occurs,  than  when  less  power  is  exercised  and 
less  matter  is  removed.  In  Greenland,  although  enormous  power 
has  been  exerted,  and  a  considerable  depth  of  rock  has  been  un- 
doubtedly removed,  we  find  no  appreciable  distinction  made  in  the 
treatment  of  two  materials  of  very  different  degrees  of  hardness. 
How,  then,  is  it  possible  to  suppose  that  the  prodigious  amount  of 
distinction  could  have  been  made  which  was  assumed  by  Professor 
Eamsay  in  the  less  glaciated  Alps  ? 

These  are  by  no  means  the  only  obstacles  which  stand  in  the 
way  of  acceptance  of  this  theory.1  The  difficulty  is  great  of  ex- 
plaining how  the  glaciers  excavated  the  rock-basins  which  exist, 
but  it  is  still  more  troublesome  to  account  for  the  non-existence  of 
those  which  ought  to  have  been  made.  The  Professor  explained  at 
considerable  length  why  they  would  not  be  formed  upon  steep 
ground  (§  9,  p.  303),  and  I  cordially  agree  with  the  first  part  of  his 
remarks ;  but  he  went  on  to  say  that  when  a  glacier  descended  into 
a  "flat  valley  the  case  was  different.  There,  to  use  homely  phrases, 
the  ice  had  time  to  select  soft  places  for  excavation."  "  Why,  then," 
asked  several  eminent  persons — Mr.  John  Ball  and  Professor  Favre 
amongst  the  number — "  are  there  not  lakes  in  the  Valley  of  Aosta?" 
The  valley  is  precisely  the  kind  of  one  in  which  they  should  have 
been  formed.     Its  inclination,  as  I  have  shewn  (note  to  p.  300),  is 

1  For  some  of  the  more  important  objections,  see  Sir  R.  Mnrchison's  Address  to 
the  Royal  Gcog.  Soc.  1864;  Sir  C.  Lyell's  AvHqytity  <>/  Mun  and  BuuiSUti  of  Geology ; 
Prof.  Stnder's  Origin*  dm  Lata  Buimt;  1'rof.  Favre  in  I'fii/.  Mug.,  March  1865; 
and  Mr.  John  Ball  in   Phil  Mag.,  Feb.  1863. 


328  SCRAMIU.KS   AMnXt.'ST  THE   A  LI'S.  ohap.  wi. 

very  inoderaite,  amd  several]  parts  of  it    the  site  of  the  «it  \  ■  «.l    \ 

t'  r  example)  are  almost  plains.    The  glacier  which  occupied  it. i 

wmiid  have  thought,  wais  thick  enough  to  have  ground  oul  baaini  in 

the  rock  at  any  part,  and  retardation  thickened  it  still  more,  occa- 
sionally.1 Are  there  no  soft  plans  throughout  this  -rent  valley  ' 
Were  there  no  acchh mU,  which  caused  exceptional  grinding  on  par- 
ticular areas,  throughout  the  whole  of  thait  long  period  during  which 
the  valley  was  occupied  by  glacier '.  Apparently  there  were  not  ; 
anyhow,  there  are  n<»  lakes  in  the  valley  worthy  of  mention,  DOS 
are  there,  as  fair  as  can  be  told,  any  plaices  where  hasins  were 
excavated  in  the  rock.  The  Professor  evidently  felt  that  the 
great  glacier  of  Aostadid  not  behave  as  it  should  have  done,  and 
seemed  to  be  nettled  by  the  references  which  were  made  to  its  un- 
accountable remissness.  "  I  have  attempted,"  said  he,  "  to  explain 
why  the  rock-basins  are  present,  aind  not  why  they  are  absent. ""-' 
He  had,  in  fact,  ailready  aiccounted  for  their  non-formation.  He  had 
shewn  that  the  great  valleys  of  the  Alps  were  approximately  the 
same  in  their  general  features  before  they  were  filled  with  ice  ais 
they  are  at  the  present  time.  He  had  brought  forward  proof  that 
this  was  the  case  with  the  Valley  of  Aosta,  haul  shewn  that  the  greait 
glaicier  which  issued  on  to  the  plain  at  Ivreai  had  been  unable  to  re- 
move loose  river-gravel,  and  had  declared  explicitly  that  the  reason 
was  that  time  wtis  wanting.     The  entire  passaige  is  as  follows : — 

"When  lately  south  of  the  Alps,  it  was  proved  to  me  by  Mr.  GastaMi,'- 
that  at  the  mouths  of  the  great  Alpine  valleys  opening  on  the  plain  of  the  Po, 
there  were  ancient  alluvial  fan-shaped  masses  of  gravel  quite  anadogous  to  tli>>s»- 
that  by  the  agency  of  existing  torrents  have  issued  from  the  gorge*  on  either 

1  Professor  Guyot  has  remarked  striatums  ascending  towards  the  mouth  of  the 
valley  in  places  where  the  valley  narrows.     See  Gastaldi's  Ten-dins  Super) 

J  Phil.  Mag.,  Oct  1864,  pp.  305-6. 

3  Professor  Gastaldi  had  published  the  same  fact  more  than  twelve  yean  Iwfore. 
"On  voit  an  ravin  <lit   torrent  de  Boriana,  qui  descend  de  la  tourbierc  <l< 
(•iovanni,  que  le  terrain  glaciare  eparpille  sup|M>rte  la  moraine  mperflcieUe,  et  se 
confond  lui-mt-mc  avec  le  diluvium  Alpin  qui  repose  inferieurement  Mir  le  pliocene 
marin." — Tm'raimt  fjujwtjkitlt.  1850. 


.map.  xvi.  OBJECTIONS  TO  RAMSAY'S  THEORY.  329 

side  (for  instance)  of  the  valleys  of  the  Rhone  or  the  Dora,  or  of  those  that  Mill 
issue  at  their  mouths.  These  were  deposited  on  a  plain  rather  lower  than  tin- 
existing  one,  ahove  Pliocene  marine  deposits,  at  a  time  when  the  true  mountain 
valleys — at  all  events  near  their  mouths — were  just  about  as  deep  as  they  are 
now  ;  for  the  great  glaciers  that  filled  the  larger  valleys  issued  out  upon  and 
overflowed  these  low-lying  river-gravels,  and  deposited  their  moraines  above 
them,  only  in  part  scooping  them  away,  apparently  because  the  glaciers  did 
not  endure  long  enough  of  sufficient  size  to  complete  their  destruction.  No 
better  proof  could  be  required  that  in  great  part  the  valleys  of  the  Alps  were 
approximately  as  deep  before  the  glacial  epoch  as  they  are  at  present ;  and 
I  believe,  with  the  Italian  geologists,  that  all  that  the  glaciers  as  a  whole 
effected  was  oidy  slightly  to  deepen  these  valleys." — Phil.  Mag.,  Nov.  1862, 
p.  379. 

This  passage  was,  I  presume,  intended  to  upset  the  doctrines  of 
Dr.  Tyndall,  and  it  did  so,  conclusively,  as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the 
Valley  of  Aosta  was  concerned.  It  struck  almost  as  severely  at  the 
opinions  of  its  author.  Indeed,  there  is  scarcely  anything  more 
damaging  to  be  found  in  the  whole  of  the  remarks  which  the  publi- 
cation of  his  original  memoir  called  forth.  At  the  mouth  of  the 
Valley  of  Aosta,  during  the  glacial  epoch,  the  whole  of  the  condi- 
tions were  found  which  Professor  Ttainsay  required  for  the  formation 
of  lake-basins.  There  was  a  vast  glacier  that  issued  out  upon  a 
plain,  and  which,  in  consequence  of  retardation,  worked  with  un- 
usual effect  (?).  It  is  demonstrable  that  it  existed  upon  the  plain 
for  an  enormous  length  of  time;  it  is  certain  that  it  was  extra- 
ordinarily thick ;  and  the  particular  area  upon  which  it  worked  was 
undoubtedly  favourable  for  excavation.  Yet  the  Professor  was  obliged 
to  confess  that  the  ice  was  unable  to  remove  loose  river-gravel  Lying 
upon  the  surface  (indeed,  that  the  glacier  actually  left  another 
stratum  of  drift  upon  the  gravel),  and  that  the  solid  rock  t>eneuth 
did  not  experience  any  excavation  whatever!  There  are  many 
other  places  at  which  the  sann-  thing  is  known  to  have  occurred, 
and  so  far  from  there  being  any  especial  tendency  to  excavate  to- 
wards the  snouts  of  glaciers,  well-established  facts  lead  rather  t<>  tin- 
opposite  conclusion.  A  glacier  which  is  bearing  moraines  always 
lias  those  moraines  brought  together,  jumbled  together, towards  its 

2  o 


330  si 7.\! mules  am  THE  ALPS.  chap,  xyl 

snout.      Much  oi'  this  moraine-matter  falls  down   the  sides  of  the 

glacier,  and  gets  wedged  between  the  ioe  and  the  bed-rock  :  maob 
more  falls  over  the  terminal  face  of  ice,  and  forms  a  stratum  over 
which  the  glacier  has  to  pass.  This  continually  happens  as  the 
glacier  progresses;  and  until  this  stratum,  interposed  hy  the  glacier 
itself,  is  ground  away,  the  bed-rock  (or  whatever  may  happen  to  be 
<  >\  er  the  1  K»d-rock)  is  not  assailed.  The  evidence  is  that  the  stratum 
of  glacial  drift  which  was  deposited  in  this  way  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Valley  of  Aosta  was  able  to  resist  the  grinding  of  the  glacier  during 
the  whole  of  its  prolonged  operations  around  Ivrea,  and  this  fact 
gives,  perhaps,  a  clearer  idea  of  the  extremely  limited  power  of 
glaciers  for  excavation  than  any  other  which  can  be  brought  forward. 
The  weight  of  evidence  seems  to  me  to  bear  heavily  against 
Professor  Kamsay's  theory.  In  support  of  it,  there  is  literally 
nothing  more  than  the  facts  that  glaciers  abrade  rocks  over  which 
they  pass,  and  that  there  are  numerous  rock-basins  (occupied  or 
not  occupied  by  lakes)  lying  within  areas  which  were  formerly 
covered  by  glacier.  Here  certainty  ends.  There  are  nothing  but 
conjectures  left,  most  of  which  have  not  even  probability  on  their 
side.  The  idea  that  all  petty  pools  and  small  tarns  (which  lie  in 
rock-basins)  occupy  areas  which  have  been  subjected  to  special 
grinding,  seems  to  me  to  be  fully  as  absurd  as  the  notion  that  each 
one  lies  in  an  area  of  special  subsidence ;  and  if  all  the  geologists 
in  the  world  were  to  swear  that  it  was  a  solemn  verity,  I  could  not 
believe  it,  after  what  I  have  seen  of  the  behaviour  of  glaciers  upon 
rocks.  The  notion  that  the  great  lake-basins  occupy  areas  that 
were  filled  with  especially  soft  strata,  which  were  subjected  to 
exceptional  grinding,  seems  to  me  not  to  be  warranted.  It  is 
doubtful  if  the  soft  strata  had  any  existence;  it  is  doubtful  if 
there  was  exceptional  grinding ;  and  it  is  highly  improbable  thai  the 
glaciers  would  have  worked  upon  those  basins  at  a  rate  ten,  fifty, 
or  a  hundred  times  faster  than  they  did  in  other  places,  even  if  the 
beams  were  filled  with  soft  strata.  More  evidence  is  wanted  upon 
this  head:  but  it  will  he  surprising  if  fresh  facts  upset  those  which 


chap.  xvi.     FIRST  ASCENT  OF  THE  CRASHES  JORASSES.  331 

have  been  already  observed  Looking  at  all  this  doubt  and  con- 
jecture on  one  side,  and  the  numerous  facts  upon  the  other  which 
prove  that  very  small  glacier-erosion  has  occurred  throughout  the 
Alps  generally,  and  the  extremely  limited  capacity  of  glaciers  for 
excavation  under  any  circumstances,  it  seems  less  probable  that 
Professor  Ramsay's  theory  will  work  its  way  to  general  acceptance, 
than  that  it  will  quietly  take  its  place  amongst  the  exploded 
dogmas  which  are  left  behind  in  the  progress  of  scientific  inquiry. 

Our  thoughts  were  more  than  usually  set  upon  roches  moutori- 
nSes,  and  rocks  of  that  genus,  upon  the  23rd  of  June  1865.  My 
guides  and  I  were  reposing  upon  the  top  of  Mont  Saxe,  scanning  the 
Grandes  Jorasses,  with  a  view  to  ascending  it.  Five  thousand  feet 
of  glacier-covered  precipices  rose  above  us,  and  up  all  that  height 
we  planned  a  way  to  our  satisfaction.  Three  thousand  feet  more 
of  glacier  and  forest-covered  slopes  lay  beneath,  and  there,  there 
was  only  one  point  at  which  it  was  doubtful  if  we  should  find  a 
path.  The  glaciers  were  shrinking,  and  were  surrounded  by  bas- 
tions of  rounded  rock,  far  too  polished  to  please  the  rough  mount- 
aineer. We  could  not  trace  a  way  across  them.  However,  at  4 
A.M.  the  next  day,1  under  the  dexterous  leading  of  Michel  Croz, 
we  passed  the  doubtful  spot.  Thence  it  was  all  plain  sailing,  and 
at  1  p.m.  we  gained  the  summit.2  The  weather  was  boisterous  in  the 
upper  regions,  and  storm-clouds  driven  before  the  wind,  and  wrecked 
against  our  heights,  enveloped  us  in  misty  spray,  which  danced 
around  and  fled  away,  which  cut  us  off  from  the  material  universe, 
and  caused  us  to  be,  as  it  were,  suspended  betwixt  heaven  and 
earth,  seeing  both  occasionally,  but  seeming  to  belong  to  neither. 

1  For  route,  see  map  of  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc. 

2  The  ascent  of  the  Grandes  Jorasses  was  made  to  obtain  a  view  of  the  upper  part 
of  the  Aiguille  Verte,  and  ui>on  that  account  the  westernmost  summit  (overlooking 
the  Mer  de  Glace)  was  selected  in  preference  to  the  highest  one.  Both  summits  are 
shewn  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,  Julien  Grange,  Henri 
Grati,  Jos.  Mar.  Perrod,  Alexis  Clusaz,  and  Dauiel  Gex  (all  of  Courmayeur),  followed 


>•'•/,>. i. u /;/./•>•  am<>x<:st  tin-:  alps.         chap.xti 

The  mists  lasted  longer  than  my  patience,  and  we  descended 
without  having  attained  t lie  object  for  which  the  ascent  was  made. 
At  fust  we  Followed  the  little  ridge  shewn  upon  1 1  *« -  accompanying 
engraving,  lt:i« li ulc  from  our  summit  towards  the  spectator,  and 
then  t<>,)k  to  tli«"  head  of  the  corridor  of  glacier  od  its  Left,  which  in 
the  view  is  Left  perfectly  white.  The  slopes  were  steep  and. covered 
With  new-fallen  snow,  flour-like  and  evil  to  tread  upon.    On  the 

ascent   We   had   reviled   it,  and   had    made  our  staircase  with  liiueh 

caution,  knowing  full  well  that  the  disturbance  of  its  base  would 
bring  down  all  that  was  above.  In  descending,  the  bolder  spirit* 
counselled  trusting  to  luck  and  a  glissade;  the  cautious  ones  advo- 
cated avoiding  the  slopes  and  crossing  to  the  rocks  mi  their  farther 
side.  The  advice  of  the  latter  prevailed,  and  we  had  ha  If- traversed 
the  snow,  to  gain  the  ridge,  when  the  crust  slipped  and  we  went 
along  with  it.  "Halt  ["  broke  from  all  four,  unanimously.  The 
axe-heads  Hew  round  as  we  started  on  this  involuntary  glissade 
1 1  w  as  useless,  they  slid  over  the  underlying  ice  fruitlessly.  "  Halt  I 
thundered  Croz,as  he  dashed  his  weapon  In  again  with  superhuman 
energy.  No  halt  could  be  made,  and  we  slid  down  slowlv.  but 
with  accelerating  motion,  driving  up  waves  of  snow  in  front,  with 
streams  of  the  nasty  stuff"  hissing  all  around.  Luckily,  the  slope 
eased  off"  at  one  place,  the  leading  men  cleverly  jumped  aside  out  of 
the  moving  snow,  we  others  followed,  and  the  young  avalanche 
which  we  had  started,  continuing  to  pour  down,  fell  into  a  yawning 
crevasse,  and  shewed  us  where  our  grave  would  have  been  if  we 
had  remained  in  its  company  live  seconds  longer.  The  whole  affair 
did  not  occupy  half-a-minute.  It  was  the  solitary  incident  of  I 
long  day,  and  at  nightfall  we  re-entered  the  excellent  house  kept 
by  the  courteous  Bertohni,  well  satisfied  that  we  had  not  met 
with  more  incidents  of  a  similar  description. 

our  track  to  the  summit  in  order  to  learn  the  way.  As  far  as  my  observation  •  x- 
tends,  .Hiicli  thing)  are  seldom  dona  l»y  money -gracing  N  spiiitle.ss  guides,  ami  I 
have  much  pleasure  in  being  able  to  mention  their  names.  The  highed  point 
(13,799)  was  ascended  on  June  29-30,  1868,  by  .Mr.  Bonoa  Walker.  with  tlie  guides 
Julien  Granga,  llakMor  Anderegg,  and  J.  Jaun. 


THE  CRANDES  JORASSES  AND  THE  OOIRE  TORRENT,  VAL  FERRET  (D'lTALIE). 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE  FIRST   PASSAGE  OF  THE  COL   DOLENT. 

"Men  willingly  believe  what  they  wish." — C.*>.\i;. 

FrebthinEING  mountaineers  have  been  latterly  in  the  habit  of  going 
up  one  side  of  an  Alp  and  coming  down  the  other,  and  calling  the 
route  a  pass.  In  this  confusion  of  ideas  may  be  recognised  the 
result  of  the  looseness  of  thought  which  arises  from  the  absence  of 
technical  education.  The  true  believer  abhors  such  heresies,  and 
observes  with  satisfaction  that  Providence  oftentimes  punishes  the 
offenders  for  their  greediness  by  causing  them  to  be  benighted. 
The  faithful  know  that  passes  must  be  made  between  mountains, 
and  not  over  their  tops.  Their  creed  declares  that  between  any 
two  mountains  there  must  be  a  pass,  and  they  believe  that  the  end 
for  which  big  peaks  were  created — the  office  they  are  especially 
designed  to  fulfil — is  to  point  out  the  way  one  should  go.  This 
is  the  true  faith,  and  there  is  no  other. 

We  set  out  upon  the  26th  of  June  to  endeavour  to  add  one  more 
to  the  passes  which  are  strictly  orthodox.  "We  hoped,  rather  than 
expected,  to  discover  a  quicker  route  from  Courmayeur  to  Cha- 
mounix  than  the  Col  du  Geant,  which  was  the  easiest,  quickest,  and 
most  direct  pass  known  at  the  time  across  the  main  chain  of  Mont 
Blanc.1  The  misgivings  which  I  had  as  to  the  result  caused  us  to 
start  at  the  unusual  hour  of  12.40  a.m.  At  4.30  we  passed  the 
chalets  of  Pre  du  Bar,  and  thence,  for  some  distance,  followed  the 
track  which  we  had  made  upon  the  ascent  of  Mont  Dolent,  over 

1  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  mouutain 
range  anywhere  upon  the  Italian  side. 


BOBAMltLKS   AMUXCST   THE   A  I.IS.  ,  ,i  m-.  wn 

lacier  of  tin'  saiin-  name  (p.  226  .  At  a  quarter  past  8  we 
Arrived  at  the  head  of  the  glacier,  and  at  the  fool  of  the  only 
steep  gnulit'iit  apon  tin-  whole  (.f  the  ascent. 

It  was  the  l>rau-iilfal  of  a  pass.     There  was  a  gap  in  the  i  ix  mi  lit  - 

ains,  with  a  l»ig  peak  on  each  side  (Mont  Dolent  ami  the  Aiguille 
de  Triolet).  A  narrow  thread  of  snow  led  up  to  the  lowest  point 
Utwt'i'ii  tlirin,  and  the  hlue  sky  beyond  said,  Directly  you 
arrive  here  von  will  begin  to  go  down.  We  addressed  ourselves  l<> 
our  task,  and  at   lO.lo  a.m.  arrived  at  the  top  of  the  pass. 

Had  things  gone  as  they  ought,  within  six  hours  more  we  sin  add 
have  been  at  Chamounix.  Upon  the  other  side  we  knew  that  there 
was  a  couloir  in  correspondence  with  that  up  which  we  had  just 
OOma  If  it  had  been  filled  with  snow  all  would  have  been  well. 
It  turned  out  to  be  filled  with  ice.  Croz,  who  led,  passed  over  to 
the  other  side,  and  reported  that  we  should  get  down  somehow ;  but 
I  knew  from  the  sound  of  his  axe  how  the  somehow  would  be,  and 
settled  myself  to  sketch,  well  assured  that  /  should  not  be  wanted 
lui  an  hour  to  come.  What  I  saw  is  shewn  in  the  engraving.  A 
sharp  aiguille  (nameless),  one  of  the  sharpest  in  the  whole  range, 
backed  on  the  left  by  the  Aiguille  de  Triolet;  queer  blocks  of 
(probably)  protogine  sticking  out  awkwardly  through  the  snow ; 
and  a  huge  cornice  from  which  big  icicles  depended,  that  broke 
away  occasionally  and  went  skiddling  down  the  slope  up  which 
we  had  come.     Of  the  Argentiere  side  I  could  not  see  anything. 

Croz  was  tied  up  with  our  good  Manilla  rope,  and  the  whole  200 
feet  were  paid  out  gradually  by  Aimer  and  Biener  before  he  ceased 
working.  After  two  hours'  incessant  toil,  he  was  able  t«»  anchor 
himself  to  the  rock  on  his  right.  He  then  untied  himself,  the  rope 
was  drawn  in,  Biener  was  attached  to  the  end  and  went  down  to 
join  his  comrade.  There  was  then  room  enough  for  me  to  stand 
by  the  side  of  Aimer,  and  I  got  my  first  view  of  the  other  side. 
For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  looked  down  a  slope  more  than  a 
thousand  feet  long,  set  at  an  angle  of  about  50°,  which  was  a  sheet 
of  ice  from  top  to  bottom.     It  was  unbroken  by  rock  or  crag,  and 


THE  SUMMIT  OF  THE  COL  OOLENT. 


OHAP.  xvii.       FIRST  PASSAGE  OF  THE  COL  DOLENT.  335 

Anything  thrown  down  it  sped  away  unarrested  until  the  level  of 
the  Glacier  d'Argentiere  was  reached.  The  entire  basin  of  that 
noble  glacier  was  spread  out  at  our  feet,  and  the  ridge  beyond, 
culminating  in  the  Aiguille  d'Argentiere,  was  seen  to  advantage. 
I  confess,  however,  that  I  paid  very  little  attention  to  the  view,  for 
there  was  no  time  to  indulge  in  such  luxuries.  I  descended  the 
icy  staircase  and  joined  the  others,  and  then  we  three  drew  in  the 
rope  tenderly  as  Aimer  came  down.  His  was  not  an  enviable  posi- 
tion, but  he  descended  with  as  much  steadiness  as  if  his  whole  life 
had  been  passed  on  ice-slopes  of  50°.  The  process  was  repeated ; 
Croz  again  going  to  the  front,  and  availing  himself  very  skilfully  of 
the  rocks  which  projected  from  the  cliff  on  our  right.  Our  200  feet 
of  rope  again  came  to  an  end,  and  we  again  descended  one  by  one. 
From  this  point  we  were  able  to  clamber  down  by  the  rocks  alone 
for  about  300  feet.  They  then  became  sheer  cliff,  and  we  stopped 
for  dinner,  about  2.30  p.m.,  at  the  last  place  upon  which  we  could 
sit.  Four  hours'  incessant  work  had  brought  us  rather  more  than 
half-way  down  the  gully.  We  were  now  approaching,  although  we 
were  still  high  above,  the  schrunds  at  its  base,  and  the  guides  made 
out,  in  some  way  unknown  to  me,  that  Nature  had  perversely  placed 
the  only  snow-bridge  across  the  topmost  one  towards  the  centre  of 
the  gully.  It  was  decided  to  cut  diagonally  across  the  gully  to  the 
point  where  the  snow-bridge  was  supposed  to  be.  Aimer  and  Biener 
undertook  the  work,  leaving  Croz  and  myself  firmly  planted  on 
the  rocks  to  pay  out  the  rope  to  them  as  they  advanced. 

It  is  generally  admitted  that  veritable  ice-slopes  (understanding 
by  ice  something  more  than  a  crust  of  hard  snow  over  soft  snow) 
are  only  rarely  met  with  in  the  Alps.  They  are  frequently  spoken 
of,  but  such  as  that  to  which  I  refer  are  very  rarely  seen,  and  still 
more  seldom  traversed.  It  is,  however,  always  possible  that  they 
may  be  encountered,  and  on  this  account,  if  for  no  other,  it  is 
necessary  for  men  who  go  mountaineering  to  be  aimed  with  ice- 
axes,  and  with  good  ones.  The  form  is  of  more  importance  than 
might  be  supposed.     Of  course,  if  you  intend  to  act  as  a  simple 


336 


N'7;. I. MULES  AMONGST  THE  A  LI'S. 


ilIAl'.   XVII. 


amateur,  and  l»t  othen  do  the  work,  and  only  follow  in  their  Bteps, 
it  la  not  of  much  importance  what  kind  of  iee-aze  you  can 
long  as  its  head  dors  do!  fall  off,  Of  otherwise  behave  itself  impro- 
perly.1 There  is  no  1  tetter  weapon  for  cutting  steps  in  ice  than  a 
common  pick-axe,  and  the  form  of  ice-axe  which  is  now  usually 
employed  by  the  best  guides  is  very  like  a  miniature  pick,  My 
own  axe  is  copied  from  Melchior  Anderegg's.      It  is  of  wrought 

iron,  with  point  and 
edge  steeled.  Its 
weight,  including 
spiked  handle,  is 
four  pounds.  For 
cutting  steps  in 
ice,  the  pointed  end 
of  the  head  is  al- 
most exclusively 
employed;  the  adze 
end  is  handy  for 
polishing  them  up, 
but  is  principally 
used  for  cutting  in 
hard  snow.  Apart 
from  its  value  as  a 
cutting  weapon,  it 
is  invaluable  as  a 
grapnel.  Itis  natu- 
rally a  rather  awkward  implement  when  it  is  not  being  employed 
for  its  legitimate  purpose,  and  is  likely  to  give  rise  to  much  strong 
language  in  crushes  at  railway  termini,  unless  its  head  is  protected 
with  a  leathern  cap,  or  in  some  other  way.  Many  attempts  have 
been  made,  for  the  sake  of  convenience,  to  fashion  an  ice-axe  with 


MY    ICE-AXE 


1  Tliis  oI.mi  v.itioii  is  not  made  without   reason.      I  have  seen  the  head  of  one 

tumhh-  otr  at  ;i  slight  tap,  in  ronsequenee  of  its  handle  having  1 n  |>erforated  by  an 

ingenious  hut  useless  arrangement  of  nails. 


CHAP.  XVII. 


ON  ICE- AXES. 


337 


a  movable  head,  but  it  seems  difficult  or  impossible  to  produce  one 
except  at  the'  expense  of  cutting  qualities,  and  by  increasing  the 
weight. 


KENNEDY    ICF.-AXF 


the  firm  of  Fairbairn  & 
quaintance  with  mountain- 
and  manufacture  of  tools, 
ticularly  valuable,  has  con- 
seen ;  but  even  it  seems 
rigidity,  and  not  to  be  so 
more  common  kind  with 
pie  instrument  which  is 
the  invention  of  Mr.  Leslie 


Mr.  T.  S.  Kennedy  (of 
Co.),  whose  practical  ac- 
eering,  and  with  the  use 
makes  his  opinion  par- 
trived  the  best  that  I  have 
to  me  to  be  deficient  in 
powerful  a  weapon  as  the 
the  fixed  head.  The  sim- 
shewn  in  the  annexed  diagram  is 
Stephen,  and  it  an- 
swers the  purposes  for 
which  he  devised  it, 
namely,  for  giving  bet- 
ter hold  upon  snow 
and  ice  than  can  be  obtained  from  the  common  alpenstock,  and  for 
cutting  an  occasional  step.  The  amateur  scarcely  requires  any- 
thing more  imposing,  but  for  serious  ice-work  a  heavier  weapon  is 
indispensable. 

To  persons  armed  with  the  proper  tools,  ice-slopes  are  not  so 
dangerous  as  many  places  which  appeal  less  to  the  imagination. 
Their  ascent  or  descent  is  necessarily  laborious  (to  those  who  do  the 
work),  and  they  may  therefore  be  termed  difficult.  They  ought  not 
to  be  dangerous.  Yet  they  always  seem  dangerous,  for  one  is  pro- 
foundly convinced  that  if  he  slips  he  will  certainly  go  to  the  bottom. 
Hence,  any  man,  who  is  not  a  fool,  takes  particular  care  to  pre- 
serve his  balance,  and,  in  consequence,  we  have  the  noteworthy  feci 
that  accidents  have  seldom  or  never  taken  place  upon  tce-alO] 

2x 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  cbaf.  xm 

The  same  slopes  oovered  with  mow  are  much  less  impressive, 
ami  maybe  much  more  dangerous.  They  may  he  less  slippery, the 
balance  may  he  more  easily  preserved, and  if  one  man  Blips  he  may 
opped  by  his  own  personal  efforts,  provided  the  snow  which 
overlies  the  ice  is  consolidated  and  of  a  reasonable  depth.  But  if, as 
is  more  likely  to  he  the  case  ttpoE  an  angle  of  50  (or  anything  ap- 
proaching thai  angle),  there  is  only  a  thin  stratum  of  snow  which  is 
not  consolidated,  the  occurrence  of  a  slip  will  most  likely  take  the 

entire  party  as  low  as  possible,  and   in  addition    to  the  chance  of 

broken  necks,  there  will  he  ,i  strong  probability  thai  some, at  least. 

will  he  smothered  hy  the  dislodged  snow.  Such  accidents  are  far  too 
Common,  and  their  occurrence,  as  a  rule,  may  he  traced  to  the  want 

of  caution  which  is  induced  by  the  apparent  absence  of  danger. 

1  do  not  believe  that  the  use  of  the  rope,  in  the  ordinary  way. 
affords  the  least  real  security  upon  ice-slopes.  Nor  do  I  think  that 
any  henelit  is  derived  from  the  employment  of  crampons.  Mr. 
Kennedy  was  good  enough  to  presenl    me  with  a   pair  some  time 

ago,  and  one  of  these  has  been 
engraved.  They  are  the  best 
variety  I  have  seen  of  the 
species,  but  I  only  feel  com- 
fortable with  them  on  my  feet 
in  places  where  they  are  not 
of  the  slightest  086  that  is  in 
situations   where    there    i-    DO 

possibility  of  slipping),  and  would  not  wear  them  upon  an  ice-slopefor 

any  consideration  whatever.      All  such  advent  it  ions  aids  are  useless 

it  you  have  not  a  good  step  in  the  ice  to  stand  upon, and  if  yon  have 

gol  that,  DOtbing  more  is  wanted  except  a  lew   nails  in  the  hoots. 
Aimer  and    Biener  got   t<>  the  end  of  their  tether;   the  rope  no 

longer  assured  their  safety,  and  they  stopped  work  as  we  advanced 

and  coiled  it,  up.  Shortly  afterwards  they  struck  a  streak  of  snow 
that  proved  to  he  just  aho\e  the  hridue  of  which  they  were  in 
search.       The  slope  steepened,  and    for  thirty  feel    or  BO  We  descended 


OHAP.xvn.  A    VE HIT MILE  ICE -SLOPE.  8S8 

face  to  the  Willi,  making  steps  by  kicking  with  the  lues,  ami  thrust- 
ing die  anus  well  into  the  holes  above,  just  us  if  they  had  been 
rounds  in  a  ladder.  At  this  time  we  were  crossing  the  uppermost 
of  the  st'hrunds.  Needless  to  say  that  the  snow  was  of  an  admir- 
able quality;  this  performance  would  otherwise  have  been  impos- 
sible. It  was  soon  over,  and  we  then  found  ourselves  upon  a  huge 
rhomboidal  mass  of  ice,  and  still  separated  from  the  Argentiere 
Glacier  by  a  gigantic  crevasse.  The  only  bridge  over  this  lower 
schrund  was  at  its  eastern  end,  and  we  were  obliged  to  double 
back  to  get  to  it.  Cutting  continued  for  half-an-hour  after  it 
was  passed,  and  it  was  5.35  p.m.  before  the  axes  stopped  work, 
ami  we  could  at  last  turn  back  and  look  comfortably  at  the 
formidable  slope  upon  which  seven  hours  had  been  spent.1 

The  Col  Dolent  is  not  likely  to  compete  with  the  Col  du 
Geant,  and  I  would  recommend  any  person  who  starts  to  cross 
it  to  allow  himself  plenty  of  time,  plenty  of.  rope,  and  ample 
guide -power.  There  is  no  difficulty  upon  any  part  of  the  route, 
excepting  upon  the  steep  slopes  immediately  below  the  summit  on 
each  side.  When  we  arrived  upon  the  Glacier  d'Argentiere,  our 
work  was  as  good  as  over.  We  drove  a  straight  track  to  the 
chalets  of  Lognan,  and  thence  the  way  led  over  familiar  ground. 
Soon  after  dusk  we  got  upon  the  high  road  at  les  Tines,  and  at 
10  p.m.  arrived  at  Chamounix.  Our  labours  were  duly  rewarded. 
Houris  brought  us  champagne  and  the  other  drinks  which  are 
reserved  for  the  faithful,  but  before  my  share  was  consumed  I  fell 
asleep  in  an  arm-chair.  I  slept  soundly  until  daybreak,  and  then 
turned  into  bed  and  went  to  sleep  again. 

1  It  occupies  about  one-sixth  of  au  inch  upon  the  map.  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. 

So  far  as  I  am  aware,  the  Col  Dolent  was  not  again  crossed  until  1878.  On 
St  [>t.  2,  of  that  year,  Messrs.  W.  E.  Davidson  and  J.  W.  Hartley,  with  the  guides 
Johann  Jaun  and  Laurent  Lanier,  traversed  it  in  the  reverse  direction. 


CHAPTEB    XVIII. 

ASCKNT    Of    1  UK    AUJI  II. I. K    VKKTK. 

'•  Few  have  the  fortitude  of  soul  to  honour 
A  friend's  success,  without  a  touch  of  envy." 

.1-.  •  ii  |  | 

Miciiki,  Cboz  now  parted  from  us.     His  new  employer  had  not 
arrived  at  Chamounix,  but  Croa  considered  that  he  was  hound  by 

honour  to  wait  for  him,  and  thus  Christian  Aimer,  of  (irindclwald. 
U't-ame  my  leading  guide. 

Aimer  displayed  aptitude  for  mountaineering  at  an  early 
Whilst  still  a  very  young  man  he  was  known  as  a  crack  chamois- 
hunter,  and  be  soon  developed  into  an  accomplished  guide.  Those 
who  have  read  Mr.  Wills'  graphic  account  of  the  first  ascent  of  the 
Wetterhorn  '  will  remember  that,  when  his  party  was  approaching 
the  top  of  the  mountain,  two  stranger  men  were  seen  climbing  by 
a  slightly  different  route,  one  of  whom  carried  upon  his  back  a 
young  fir-tree,  branches,  leaves,  and  all.  Mr.  Wills'  guides  were 
extremely  indignant  with  these  two  strangers  (who  were  evidently 
determined  to  be  the  first  at  the  summit),  and  talked  of  giving  them 
blows.  Eventually  they  gave  them  a  take  of  chocolate  instead, 
and  declared  that  they  were  good  fellows.  "Thus  the  pipe  of 
peace  was  smoked,  and  tranquillity  reigned  between  the  rival 
forces."     Christian  Aimer  was  one  of  these  two  men. 

This  was  in  1854.  In  1857-8  he  made  the  first  ascents  of  the 
Monch  and  the  Eiger,  the  former  with  Dr.  Porges,  and  the  latter 
with  Mr.  Charles  Harrington.2     Since  then  he  has  wandered  far 

1  Wanderings  among  the  High  Alps,   1858. 
s  See  the  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  xi.  pp.  172-4. 


chap.  win.  rilh'isTIAN  ALMER.  341 

and  near,  from1  Dauphine  to  Tyrol.1  With  the  exception  of 
Melchior  Anderegg,  there  is  not,  perhaps,  another  guide  of  such 
wide  experience,  or  one  who  has  been  so  invariably  successful : 
ami  his  numerous  employers  concur  in  saying  that  there  is  not 
a  truer  heart  or  a  surer  foot  to  be  found  amongst  the  Alps. 


CHRISTIAN     ALMEK.- 


Before  recrossing  the  chain  to  Courmayeur,  we  ascended  the 
Aiguille  Verte.  In  company  with  Mr.  Reilly  I  inspected  this 
mountain  from  every  direction  in  1864,  and  formed  the  opinion 
that  an  ascent  could  more  easily  be  made  from  the  south  than 
upon  any  other  side.  We  set  out  upon  the  28th  from  Chamounix 
to  attack  it ;  minus  Croz,  and  plus  a  porter  (of  whom  I  will  speak 
more  particularly  presently),  leaving  our  comrade  very  downcast 
at  having  to  kick  his  heels  in  idleness,  whilst  we  were  about  to 
scale  the  most  celebrated  of  his  native  Aiguilles. 

Our  course  led  us  over  the  old  Mer  de  Glace — the  glacier  made 
famous  by  De  Saussure  and  Forbes.      The  heat  of  the  day  was 

1  Most  of  bis  principal  exploits  are  recorded  in  the  publications  of  tbe  Alpine  Club. 
8  Engraved,  by  permission,  from  a  photograph  by  Mr.  E.  Edwards. 


:Ul' 


v  /.■.!.»/ /;/./>■   AMU.XUST   THE   A  US. 


<  ii  \r.  \\  hi. 


DVei  but  the  littlr  rills  and  rivulets  were  still  Bowing  along  the 
Mllface  «-t    the  ice;   Cutting   deep    tTOUghfl  where  I  lie  gradients  WOK 

small;  leaving  ripple-marks  where  the  water  waa  with  more  diffi- 
culty oonfined  to  one  channel:  and  falling  over  the  precipitous 
walls  of  the  great  crevasses.  sometimes  in  bounding  cascade-,  and 
sometimes  in  diffused  streams,  which  marked  the  perpendicular 


ON    THE    MKK    UK   UI.AC*'. 


faces  with  graceful  sinuosities.1  As  ni-lit  came  on.  then-  music 
died  away,  the  rivulets  dwindled  down  to  rills:  the  rills  ceased 
to  murmur,  and  the  sparkling  drops,  caught  DJ  the  hand  of  frost, 
were  bound  t«>  the  ice,  coating  it  with  an  enamelled  film  which 
lasted  until  the  sun  struck  the  glacier  once  more. 

1  Admirably  rendered  in  the  accompanying  drawing  by  Mr.  I'yrus  JohfMWl.    The 
"  ripple-marks  "  are  seen  in  the  engraving  ii|>on  p.  343. 


chap,  xviii.       WE  A  Til  ERING  AND  STRA  T1FICA  TION. 


343 


The  weathering  of  the  walls  of  crevasses,  which  obscures  the 
internal  structure  of  the  glacier,  has  led  some  to  conclude  that  the 
stratification  which  is  seen  in  the  higher  glacier-regions  is  obliterated 
in  the  lower  ones.  Others,  Agassiz  and  Mr.  John  1U11  for  example, 
have  disputed  this  opinion,1  and  my  own  experiences  accord  with 
those  of  these  accurate  observers.  It  is,  undoubtedly,  very  difficult 
to  trace  stratification  in  the  lower  ends  of  the  Alpine  glaciers ;  but 


ON    THE   MER    DE  CJLACE. 


we  are  not,  upon  that  account,  entitled  to  conclude  that  the  ori- 
ginal structure  of  the  ice  has  been  obliterated.  There  are  thou- 
sands of  crevasses  in  the  upper  regions  upon  whose  walls  no  traces 
of  bedding  are  apparent,  and  we  might  say,  with  equal  unreason- 
ableness, that  it  was  obliterated  there  also.  Take  an  axe,  and 
clear  away  the  ice  which  has  formed  from  water  trickling  down 

1  See  Agassi/  in  Atlantic  Mmithht,  Dec.  1863;  and  Mr.  J.    Ball  in  Phil.  Mag., 
Dec.   1857  (supplementary  number),  and  April  1869. 


344  Si  •RAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  <  n\v.  xvm. 

the  faces,  and  the  weathered  ice  beneath,  and  yon  will  expose  sec- 
tions of  mingled  strata  of  pure  and  of  imperfect  ice,  and  see 
clearly  enough  that  the  primitive  structure  of  the  glacier  has 
not  been  effaced,  although  it  has  been  obscured. 

Notwithstanding  all  that  has  been  written  to  the  contrary  by 
eminent  authorities,  I  believe  that  the  strata  of  ice  which  are 
formed  by  weathering,  upon  the  surfaces  of  the  beds  of  snow  that 
arc  deposited  in  the  higher  regions,  exist  (unless  they  are  origin- 
ally of  very  small  thickness)  to  the  ends  of  the  glaciers,  and  that 
many  of  the  veins  of  blue  ice  which  are  seen  on  the  surfaces  of 
the  lower  parts  of  Alpine  glaciers  are  nothing  more  than  the 
outcropping  of  the  primarily  horizontal  strata. 

Some  of  those  who  have  maintained  the  contrary  opinion,  have 
evidently  had  a  very  insufficient  idea  of  the  extent  to  which  the 
upper  snows  are  pervaded  by  strata  of  blue  ice,  and  of  their 
thickness.  In  the  Appendix  it  is  shewn  that  there  were  in  the 
upper  22  feet  of  snow  at  the  summit  of  the  Col  de  Valpelline,  in 
1866,  no  less  than  75  layers  of  ice,  one  of  which  was  more  than 
6  inches  in  thickness,  whilst  numerous  others  ranged  from  half- 
an-inch  to  one  inch.  The  total  thickness  of  these  75  layers 
amounted  to  25f  inches,  or  nearly  one-tenth  of  the  mass  which 
we  were  able  to  penetrate.  So  far  as  I  am  aware,  it  has  not  been 
proved  experimentally  that  it  is  possible  (by  compression,  or  in 
any  other  way)  to  obliterate  a  plate  of  ice,  even  an  inch  in  thick- 
ness, placed  between  snow,  or  between  ice  of  inferior  density, 
except  by  liquefaction  of  the  entire  mass. 

Others  who  have  pronounced  against  the  possibility  of  the 
horizontal  strata  of  blue  ice  contributing  any  of  the  veins  of  blue 
ice  which  constitute  the  veined  structure1  of  glaciers,,  have  done  so 

1  The  late  Principal  J.  D.  Forbes  was  the  first  to  attach  any  importance  to  the 
veined  structure  of  glaciers.  I  gather  the  following  definitions  of  it  from  different 
pages  of  his  Occasional  Papers.  "  I  cannot  more  accurately  describe  it,  than  by  call- 
ing it  a  ribboned  structure,  formed  by  thin  and  delicate  blue  and  bluish-whiti-  bands 
or  strata,  which  appear  to  traverse  the  ice  in  a  vertical  direction,  or  rather  which,  by 
their  apposition,  formed  the  entire  mass  of  the  ice.     The  direction  of  these  bands 


chap,  xviii.     THE  'VEINED  STRUCTURE'  OF  GLACIERS.  Mfi 

upon  the  ground  that  all  traces  of  stratification  are  obliterated 
before  the  appearance  of  the  veined  structure.  It  is,  however, 
now  well  known  that  the  primitive  structure  has  been  detected 
iiflrr  the  appearance  of  the  veins  on  the  surfaces  of  glaciers — the 
veins,  indeed,  have  been  observed  in  the  walls  of  crevasses  cutting 
the  original  structure.1  It  is  proved  thereby  that  the  original 
structure  remains  in  existence  for  some  distance  down,  and  that, 
so  far  at  least,  it  is  not  obliterated.2 

It  has  also  been  urged  that  "  the  blue  veins  of  glaciers  are  not 
always,  nor  even  generally,  such  as  we  should  expect  to  result  from 
stratification.  The  latter  would  furnish  us  with  distinct  planes  ex- 
tending parallel  to  each  other  for  considerable  distances  through  the 
glacier ;  but  this,  though  sometimes  the  case,  is  by  no  means  the 
general  character  of  the  structure."  With  this  observation  I  agree. 
It   amounts,  however,  only  to  saying,  that  it  is  impossible   to 

was  parallel  to  the  length  of  the  glacier"  (p.  3).  "In  some  parts  of  the  glacier 
it  appears  more  developed  than  in  others.  .  .  It  penetrates  the  thickness  of  the 
glacier  to  great  depths.  It  is  an  integral  part  of  its  inmost  structure"  (p.  5). 
"  The  breadth  of  these  (bands)  varies  from  a  small  fraction  of  an  inch  to  several 
inches "  (p.  8).  "  This  structure  consists  in  the  alternation  of  more  or  less 
perfectly  crystallised  ice  in  parallel  layers,  often  thinning  out  altogether  like  veins 
in  marble "  (p.   19). 

Forbes'  "veined  structure  "  is  frequently  cut,  both  horizontally  and  vertically, 
by  other  veins,  which  latter  seem  to  me  to  have  clearly  a  different  origin  from  the 
former.  Proper  discrimination  has  not  hitherto  been  made  between  the  two. 
Observers  sometimes  call  one,  sometimes  the  other,  and  sometimes  both,  the 
"veined  structure."  It  would,  I  think,  be  convenient  and  appropriate  to  term 
Forbes'  structure  "the  laminated  structure  of  glacier."  In  1867,  upon  the  surface  of 
a  glacier  in  the  Jakobshavn  district,  North  Greenland,  I  saw  three  series  of  veins 
crossing  each  other  in  three  different  directions,  forming  a  cross-bar  or  net-work 
pattern  upon  the  ice.     This  was  certainly  not  Forbes'  structure. 

1  This  of  course  proves  that  the  origin  of  all  the  veins  is  not  found  in  stratifica- 
tion, but  it  does  not  prove  (as  some  appear  to  think)  that  all  of  the  veins  have  a 
different  origin. 

-  I  believe  that  I  have  seen  the  planes  of  the  original  bedding  still  remaining 
parallel  to  the  surface  in  some  icebergs  floating  into  Disco  Bay,  which  had  come 
from  a  glacier  at  least  20  miles  long.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  this  is  a  most 
imjwrtant  and  significant  fact. 

2  v 


346  SCRAMBLE*   AMnXasT   TIN-:   AU'S.  OHAP.  xviu. 

consider  thai  all  of  the  blue  veins  have  their  origin  in  the  stratified 

bedl  of  snow  ami  ice  from  which  niacins  arc  born.  Any  person 
who  has  l>een  close  to  an  "  ice-fall "  on  one  of  the  principa]  Alpine 
glaciers,  and  observed  the  great  stfncs  Lurching  forward,  with  the 
primitive  beds  remaining  parallel,  or  nearly  so,  to  the  surface  of  the 
glacier,  must  feel  that  it  is  extremely  improbable  that  the  masses 
will  l>e  so  reconipacted  lower  down  as  to  "furnish  ns  with  distinct 
planes  extending  parallel  to  each  other  for  considerable  distcu 
It  will  be  felt  that  some  of  the  sc'racs  will  be  so  smashed  up  that 
the  original  structure  will  be  got  rid  of:  that  others,  which  descend 
more  gently,  will  remain  intact,  but  will  settle  down  with  their 
beds  more  or  less  inclined  to  the  horizon ;  and  that  it  will  be  a 
very  extraordinary  chance  if  the  dip  of  the  strata  of  any  two  of 
the  masses,  when  recompacted,  will  coincide  within  many  decrees. 

Upon  these  grounds  I  believe  that  many  of  the  veins  of  the 
veined  structure  of  glaciers  are  nothing  more  than  the  upturned 
layers  of  blue  ice  which  are  formed  upon  and  between  the  beds  of 
snow  that  are  deposited  in  the  higher  regional  1  am  far  from 
thinking  that  the  occurrence  of  the  whole  of  the  veins  of  blue  ice 
which  are  found  in  glaciers  should  be  accounted  for  in  this  way.  I 
do  not  believe  that  the  combinations  of  different  varieties  of  ice 
that  are  found  in  glaciers,  which  have  been  referred  to  by  various 
authors  as  the  veined  structure,  can  be  accounted  for  in  two  or  even 
in  three  ways.  Avoiding  disputed  points,  I  will  observe  that  there 
are  at  least  two  other  modes  by  which  many  veins  of  blue  ice  are 
certainly  produced  in  glaciers. 

First,  by  water  freezing  in  crevasses.  I  have  seen  hundreds  of 
crevasses  in  Greenland  nearly  full  of  Water;  never  quite  full:  the 
water  seldom  came  within  two  or  three  feet  of  the  surface  of  the 
glacier.  I  have  seen  the  entire  surface  of  the  water  in  such  cre- 
vasses frozen  and  free/inn.      I  have  seen  the  water  sometimes  t 

solid  at  one  end  and  remaining  liquid  at  tl ther  end  :  and  in  the 

walls  of  icebergs  I  have  seen  sections  of  crevasses  that  have  been 

1  Soiiiftiims.  probably  thickened  by  pram*. 


.hap.  .win.  OSIOIJH  OF  VEINS  IN  GLAOIEB&  347 

nearly  filled  with  water,  in  which  the  water  has  been  frozen  solid.1 
These  veins  in  icebergs  are  frequently  one  to  three  feet  thick,  and 
can  he  seen  at  several  miles'  distance.  If  veins  of  blue  ice  are  not 
formed  in  the  Alpine  glaciers  in  the  same  manner,  it  is  only  because 
there  are  outlets  from  the  crevasses  by  which  the  water  escapes. 
It  is  rare  to  see  a  crevasse  in  the  Alps  even  parti)'  filled  with  water.'- 
Seeondly,  by  the  closing  together  of  crevasses.  The  unequal 
motion  of  the  parts  of  a  glacier  causes  crevasses  continually  to 
open  and  to  close  up ;  and  the  walls  of  these  crevasses,  whether 
12,000  feet  or  more  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  or  whether  only  5000, 
all  become  weathered  and  more  or  less  coated  with  pure  ice.  Even 
narrow  crevasses  in  the  high  regions,  well  bridged  with  snow,  are 
not  exempt.  The  warm  air  of  midsummer  penetrates  the  chasms, 
and,  assisted  by  the  percolation  of  snow-water,  glazes  the  walls  from 
top  to  bottom.  The  superficial  coatings  of  ice  which  are  thus  formed 
upon  the  sides  of  crevasses  vary  greatly  in  thickness  according  to 
circumstances — in  a  single  crevasse  they  may  range  from  a  thick- 
ness of  less  than  an-  inch  to  more  than  a  foot.3  The  crevasses  close 
up ;  the  surfaces  of  their  icy  walls  are  brought  into  contact ;  they 
regele,  and  the  coalesced  films  will  then  appear  as  veins  of  pure 
ice  in  the  generally  whitish  mass  of  the  glacier.  When  one  con- 
siders the  myriads  of  crevasses  which  there  are  in  any  glacier, 
and  the  -incessant  opening  and  closing  up  that  goes  forward,  it  is 
easy  to  see  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  veins  of  pure  ice  which 
constitute  the  veined  structure  of  glaciers  must  be  considered 
as  the  scars  of  healed  crevasses. 

1  I  have  often  seen  these  veins  in  icebergs  intersecting  each  other.  Dr.  Kink 
has  shewn  an  instance  of  this  in  an  illustration  in  his  Grbnland  Geographi.sk  og 
Staiisiisk,  vol.  i.  1852. 

2  Charpentier  long  ago  advanced  the  opinion  that  the  motion  of  glaciers  was 
promoted  by  freezing  of  water  in  crevasses.  His  notion  is  commonly  regarded 
as  exploded,  but  there  may  be  something  in  it  after  all. 

3  The  same  thing  is  to  be  noticed  in  regard  to  the  blue  veins  of  the  veined  stun- 
ture.  The  veins  frequently  thin  out  and  are  lost,  or  swell  into  lenticular  masses. 
This  is  best  seen  when  the  veins  are  regarded  in  vertical  sections  of  the  glacier. 


348  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  rill-:  ALPS.         chap.  xvnx 

We  eamped  oo  the  Couvercle  (7800)  under  a  great  rook,  and 
,ii  3.15  the  next  morning  started  for  onr  aiguille,  leaving  the  porter 
in  charge  of  the  tent  and  of  the  food.  Two  hours'  walking  over 
crisp  snow  brought  ns  up  more  than  4000  feet,  and  within  about 
1600  feet  of  the  summit.1  From  no  other  direction  can  it  be 
approached  so  closely  with  equal  facility.  Thence  the  mountain 
steepens.  After  his  late  severe  piece  of  ice-work,  Aimer  had  a 
natural  inclination  for  rocks;  hut  the  lower  rocks  of  the  final  peak 
of  the  Aiguille  Verte  were  not  inviting,  and  he  went  on  and  on, 
looking  for  a  wa\  up  them,  until  we  arrived  in  front  of  a  great  snow 
couloir  that  led  from  the  Glacier  de  Talcfre  right  up  to  the  crest 
of  the  ridge  connecting  the  summit  of  the  Verte  with  the  mountain 
called  Les  Droites.  This  was  the  route  which  I  intended  to  be 
taken;  but  Aimer  pointed  out  that  the  gully  narrowed  at  the 
lower  part,  and  that,  if  stones  fell,  we  should  stand  some  chance 
of  getting  our  heads  broken;  and  so  we  went  on* still  more  to  the 
east  of  the  summit,  to  another  and  smaller  couloir  which  ran  up 
side  by  side  with  the  great  one.  At  5.30  we  crossed  the  schrund 
which  protected  the  final  peak,  and,  a  few  minutes  afterwards. 
saw  the  summit  and  the  whole  of  the  intervening  route.  "  Oh ! 
Aiguille  Verte,"  said  my  guide,  stopping  as  he  said  it,  "you  are 
dead,  you  are  dead ; "  which,  being  translated  into  plain  English, 
meant  that  he  was  cock-sure  we  should  make  its  ascent. 

Aimer  is  a  quiet  man  at  all  times.  "When  climbing  he  is 
taciturn — and  this  is  one  of  his  great  merits.  A  garrulous  man  is 
always  a  nuisance,  and  upon  a  mountain-side  he  may  be  a  danger, 
for  actual  climbing  requires  a  man's  whole  attention.  Added  to 
this,  talkative  men  are  hindrances;  they  are  usually  thirsty,  and 
a  thirsty  man  is  a  drag. 

Guide-books  recommend  mountain- walkers  to  suck  pebbles,  to 
prevent  their  throats  from  becoming  parched.  There  is  not  much 
goodness  to  be  got  out  of  the  pebbles;  but  you  cannot  suck  them 

1  Or,  upon  the  map  of  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc,  to  within  a  third  of  m  [nob  <>f 
the  black  triangle  which  marku  the  .summit. 


chap.  .win.     FIRST  A80ENT  OF  THE  AIQUILLB   VBBTB.  349 

and  keep  the  mouth  open  at  the  same  time,  and  hence  the  throat 
does  not  become  dry.  It  answers  just  as  well  to  keep  the  mouth 
shut,  without  any  pebbles  inside, — indeed,  I  think,  better ;  for  if 
you  have  occasion  to  open  your  mouth,  you  can  do  so  without 
swallowing  any  pebbles.1  As  a  rule,  amateurs,  and  particularly 
novices,  will  not  keep  their  mouths  shut.  They  attempt  to  '  force 
the  pace ;'  they  go  faster  than  they  can  go  without  being  compelled 
to  open  their  mouths  to  breathe ;  they  pant ;  their  throats  and 
tongues  become  parched,  they  drink  and  perspire  copiously ;  and, 
becoming  exhausted,  declare  that  the  dryness  of  the  air,  or  the 
rarefaction  of  the  air  (everything  is  laid  upon  the  air),  is  in  fault. 
On  several  accounts,  therefore,  a  mountain-climber  does  well  to 
hold  his  tongue  when  he  is  at  work. 

At  the  top  of  the  small  gully  we  crossed  over  the  intervening 
rocks  into  the  large  one,  and  followed  it  so  long  as  it  was  filled 
with  snow.  At  last  ice  replaced  snow,  and  we  turned  over  to  the 
rocks  upon  its  left.  Charming  rocks  they  were  ;  granitic  in  texture,2 
gritty,  holding  the  nails  well.  At  9.45  we  parted  from  them,  and 
completed  the  ascent  by  a  little  ridge  of  snow  which  descended  in 
the  direction  of  the  Aiguille  du  Moine.  At  10.15  we  stood  on  the 
summit  (13,540),  and  devoured  our  bread  and  cheese  with  a  good 
appetite. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  disappointing  nature  of  purely 
panoramic  views.  That  seen  from  Mont  Blanc  itself  is  notoriously 
unsatisfactory.  When  you  are  upon  that  summit  you  look  down 
upon  the  rest  of  Europe.  There  is  nothing  to  look  up  to ;  all  is 
below ;  there  is  no  one  point '  for  the  eye  to  rest  upon.  The 
man  who  is  there  is  somewhat  in  the  position  of  one  who  has 
attained  all  that  he  desires, — he  has  nothing  to  aspire  to;   his 

1  I  have  beard  of  two  well-known  mountaineers  who,  under  the  influence  of 
sudden  alarm,  swalloiccd  their  crystals.  I  am  happy  to  say  that  they  were  able  to 
cough  them  up  again. 

2  Hand  specimens  of  the  highest  rocks  of  the  Aiguille  Verte  cannot  be  distin- 
guished from  granite.  The  rock  is  almost  identical  in  quality  with  that  at  the 
summit  of  Mont  Dolent,  and  is  probably  a  granitoid  gneiss. 


350  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  «  hap.  win. 

potation  must  needs  be  unsatisfactory.  Upon  the  summit  <»i'  tin- 
Verte  there  is  not  this  objection.     Yon  see  walleye,  villages,  fields; 

you  see  mountains   int«-i initial ►!<•   rolling  away,  lakes  resting    in 
their  hollows;  you  hear  the  tinkling  of  the  sheep-bells  as  it 
through  the  clear  mountain  air,  and  the  roar  of  the  avalancl 

they  descend  to  the  valleys:  but  above  all  there  is  the  great  white 
dome,  with  its  shining  crest  high  above;  with  its  sparkling  glaciers 
that  descend  between  buttresses  which  support  them:  with  its 
brilliant  snows,  purer  and  yet  purer  the  fait  her  they  are  removed 
from  this  unclean  world.1 

Even  upon  this  mountain-top  it  was  impossible  to  forget  the 
world,  for  some  vile  wretch  came  to  the  Jardin  and  made  hideous 
sounds  by  blowing  through  a  horn.  Whilst  we  were  denouncing 
him  a  change  came  over  the  weather;  cumulous  clouds  gathered  in 
all  directions,  and  we  started  off  in  hot  haste.  Snow  began  to  fall 
heavily  before  we  were  off  the  summit-rocks,  our  track  was  obscured 
and  frequently  lost,  and  everything  became  so  sloppy  and  slippery 
that  the  descent  took  as  long  as  the  ascent.  The  schrund  was  iv- 
crossed  at  3.15  p.m.,  and  thence  we  raced  down  to  the  Couvercle, 
intending  to  have  a  carouse  there ;  but  as  we  rounded  our  rock  a 
howl  broke  simultaneously  from  all  three  of  us,  for  the  porter  had 
taken  down  the  tent,  and  was  in  the  act  of  moving  off  with  it. 
"  Stop,  there  !  what  are  you  doing  ? "  He  observed  that  he  had 
thought  we  were  killed,  or  at  least  lost,  and  was  going  to  Chamounix 
to  communicate  his  ideas  to  the  guide  chef.  "Unfasten  the  tent, 
and  get  out  the  food."  Instead  of  doing  so  the  porter  fumbled  in 
his  pockets.  "  Get  out  the  food,"  we  roared,  losing  all  patience. 
"  Here  it  is,"  said  our  worthy  friend,  producing  a  dirty  piece  of 
bread  about  as  big  as  a  halfpenny  roll.  We  three  looked  solemnly 
at  the  fluff-covered  morsel.  It  was  past  a  joke, — he  had  devoured 
everything.     Mutton,  loaves,  cheese,  wine,  eggs,  sausages — all  was 

1  The  summit  of  the  Aiguille  Verte  was  a  snowy  dome,  large  enough  for  a  quad* 
rill*-.  I  was  surprised  to  see  the  great  height  of  Les  Droites.  Capt.  Miculit  plaeM 
its  summit  at  13,222  feet,  but  I  think  it  is  very  slightly  lower  than  the  W-rte  itself. 


chap.  win.      THE  NOBLE  ATTITUDE  OF  CHAMOUNIX.  351 

gone — past  recovery.  It  was  idle  to  grumble,  and  useless  to  wait. 
We  were  light,  and  could  move  quickly, — the  porter  was  laden 
inside  and  out.  We  went  our  hardest, — he  had  to  shuffle  and  trot. 
He  streamed  with  perspiration ;  the  mutton  and  cheese  oozed  out 
in  big  drops, — he  larded  the  glacier.  We  had  our  revenge,  and  dried 
our  clothes  at  the  same  time,  but  when  we  arrived  at  the  Montanvert 
the  porter  was  as  wet  as  we  had  been  upon  our  arrival  at  the  Cou- 
vercle.  We  halted  at  the  inn  to  get  a  little  food,  and  at  a  quarter 
past  eight  re-entered  Chamounix,  amidst  firing  of  cannon,  and  other 
demonstrations  of  satisfaction  on  the  part  of  the  hotel-keepers. 

One  would  have  thought  that  the  ascent  of  this  mountain, 
which  had  been  frequently  assailed  before  without  success,  would 
have  afforded  some  gratification  to  a  population  whose  chief 
support  is  derived  from  tourists;  and  that  the  prospect  of  the 
perennial  flow  of  francs  which  might  be  expected  to  result  from 
it  would  have  stifled  any  jealousy  consequent  on  the  success  of 
foreigners.1 

It  was  not  so.  Chamounix  stood  on  its  rights.  A  stranger 
had  ignored  their  regulations,  had  imported  two  foreign  guides, 
and,  furthermore,  he  had  added  injury  to  that  insult — he  had  not 
taken  a  single  Chamounix  guide.  Chamounix  would  be  revenged  ! 
It  would  bully  the  foreign  guides;  it  would  tell  them  they  had 
lied, — that  they  had  not  made  the  ascent !  Where  were  their 
proofs  ?     Where  was  the  flag  upon  the  summit  ? 

Poor  Aimer  and  Biener  were  accordingly  chivied  from  pillar  to 
post,  from  one  inn  to  another,  and  at  length  complained  to  me. 
Peter  Perm,  the  Zermatt  guide,  said  on  the  night  that  we  returned 
that  this  was  to  happen,  but  the  story  seemed  too  absurd  to  be 
true.  I  now  bade  my  men  go  out  again,  and  followed  them 
myself  to  see  the  sport.  Chamounix  was  greatly  excited.  The 
bureau  of  the  guide  cJuf  was  thronged  with  clamouring  men. 
Their  ringleader — one  Zacharie  Cachat — a  well-known  guide,  of 

1  The  Chamounix  tariff  price  for  the  ascent  of  tin*  Aigoflk  is  now  placed  at  £4 

per  gui'l' . 


352  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.         chap.  xvto 

no  particular  merit,  though  not  a  had  fellow,  was  haranguing  the 

multitude.  He  met  with  more  than  his  match.  My  friend 
Kennedy,  who  was  on  the  spot,  heard  of  the  disturbance  and 

rushed  into  the  fray,  confronted  the  burly  guide,  Mid  thrust  hack 
his  ahsurdities  into  his  teeth. 

There  were  the  materials  for  a  very  pretty  riot;  but  they  man- 
age these  things  better  in  France  than  we  do, and  the  gensdarmes — 
three  strong — came  down  and  dispersed  the  crowd.  The  guides 
quailed  before  the  cocked  hats,  and  retired  to  cabarets  to  take  little 
glasses  of  absinthe  and  other  liquors  more  or  less  injurious  to  the 
human  frame.  Under  the  influence  of  these  stimulants,  they  con- 
ceived an  idea  which  combined  revenge  with  profit.  "  You  have  as- 
cended the  Aiguille  Verte,  you  say.  We  say  we  don't  believe  it.  We 
say,  do  it  again  !  Take  three  of  us  with  you,  and  we  will  bet  you 
two  thousand  francs  to  a  thousand,  that  you  won't  make  the  ascent  I 

This  proposition  was  formally  notified  to  me,  but  I  declined  it. 
with  thanks,  and  recommended  Kennedy  to  go  in  and  win.  I 
accepted,  however,  a  hundred-franc  share  in  the  bet,  and  calcu- 
lated upon  getting  two  hundred  per  cent  on  my  investment.  Alas  ! 
how  vain  are  human  expectations !  Zacharie  Cachat  was  put  into 
confinement,  and  although  Kennedy  actually  ascended  the  Aiguille 
a  week  later,  with  two  Chamounix  guides  and  Peter  Perm,  the  be( 
came  to  nothing.1 

The  weather  arranged  itself  just  as  this  storm  in  a  teapot  blew 
over,  and  we  left  at  once  for  the  Montanvert,  in  order  to  shew  the 
(Jhamouniards  the  easiest  way  over  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc,  in 
return  for  the  civilities  which  we  had  received  from  them  during 
the  past  three  days. 

1  It  should  Ihj  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  aj>ologies,  and  declined  his  invitation.  Needless  to  add, 
Mid  id  Croz  took  no  jiart  in  this  demonst ration. 

Mr.  Kennedy's  ascent  of  tin-  Aiguille  Verte  is  described  in  the  .///<,';«  Journal, 
vol.  iii.  pp.  68-7f>. 


WESTERN    SIDE   OF   THE   COL    DE   TAI.KFKE. 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE   FIRST    PASSAGE   OF   THE   COL   DE   TALEFRE. 

" 'Tis  more  by  art  than  force  of  numerous  strokes." 

SOMBB. 

The  person  who  discovered  the  Col  du  Geant  must  have  been  B 
shrewd  mountaineer.  The  pass  was  in  use  before  any  other  was 
known  across  the  main  chain  of  Mont  Blanc,  and  down  to  the 
present  time  it  remains  the  easiest  and  quickest  route  from  Cha- 
mounix  t<>  (  ourmayeur,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  pass  thai 
we  crossed  upon  the  3rd  of  July  18G5,  for  the  first  time,  lying 
about  miil-way  between  the  Aiguille  de  Triolet  and  the  Aiguille de 
Talefre  ;  which,  for  want  of  a  better  name,  1  called  the  ( !ol  de  Talefre. 
When  one  looks  toward  the  upper  end  of  the  ( Maeier  de  Talefre 
from  the  direction  of  the  Jardin  or  of  the  ( 'ouvercle,  the  ridge  that 
bounds  the  view   seems  to  be  of  little  elevation.       It  is  overpowered 

by  the  colossal  Grandee  Joranes,  and  by  the  almost  equally  magni- 
ficent Aiguille  Verte.     The  ridge,  notwithstanding,  is  by  no  means 

despicable.     At  no  point  is  its  elevation  less  than  11,000  feet.     It 


354  SCRAMBLES  AMONdST  THE  MI'S.  chap.  xix. 

does  not  look  anything  like  this  height.     The  Glacier  de  Talefre 
mounts  with  a  steady  incline,  ami  the  eye  is  completely  deceived. 
In  lSti-t,  when  prowling  about  with  Mr.  Reilly,  I   instinct  i\el\ 
fixed  apon  a  bent  couloir  which  led  up  from  the  glacier  to  the 
lowest  }>art  of  the  ridge;  and  when,  after  crossing  the  Col  de 
Triolet,  I  saw  that  the  other  side  presented  no  particular  difficulty, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  this  was  the  one  point  in  the  whole  of  the 
range  which  would  afford  an  easier  passage  than  the  Col  du  (leant. 
We  set  out  from  the  Montanvert  at  4  a.m.  upon  July  3,  to  see 
whether  this  opinion  was  correct,  and  it  fortunately  happened  that 
the  Rev.  A.  G.  Girdlestone  and. a  friend,  with  two  Chamounix 
guides,  left  the  inn  at  the  same  hour  as  ourselves,  to  cross  the  ( '« »1 
du  Geant.     We  kept  in  company  as  far  as  our  routes  lay  together, 
and  at  9.35  we  arrived  at  the  top  of  our  pass,  having  taken  the 
route  to  the  south  of  the  Jardin.     Description  is  unnecessary,  as 
our  track  is  laid  down  very  clearly  on  the  engraving  at  the  head 
of  this  chapter,  and  upon  the  map. 

Much  snow  had  fallen  during  the  late  bad  weather,  and  as  we 
reposed  upon  the  top  of  our  pass  (which  was  about  11,650  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  600  feet  higher  than  the  Col  du 
Gdant),  we  saw  that  the  descent  of  the  rocks  which  intervened 
between  us  and  the  Glacier  de  Triolet  would  require  some  caution, 
for  the  sun's  rays  poured  down  directly  upon  them,  and  the  snow 
slipped  away  every  now  and  then  from  ledge  to  ledge  just  as  if  it 
had  l>een  water, — in  cascades  not  large  enough  to  be  imposing, 
although  sufficient  to  knock  us  over  if  we  got  in  their  way.  This 
little  bit  of  cliff  consequently  took  a  longer  time  than  it  should  have 
done,  for  when  we  heard  the  indescribable  swishing,  hissing  sound 
which  announced  a  coming  fall,  we  of  necessity  huddled  under  t la- 
lee  of  the  rocks  until  the  snow  ceased   to  shoot  over  us. 

We  get  to  the  level  of  the  Glacier  de  Triolet  without  misad- 
venture, then  steeivd  I'm-  its  left  bank  to  avoid  the  upper  of  its  two 
formidable  ice-falls,  and  after  descending  the  requisite  distance  by 
some  old  snow  [yingbetween  the  glacier  and  the  cliffs  which  border 


OHAP.  XIX. 


tn.iss.miM;. 


355 


it,  crossed  directly  to  the  right  bank  over  the  level  ice  between  tin- 
two  ice-falls.1  The  right  bank  was  gained  without  any  trouble, 
and  we  found  there  numerous  beds  of  hard  snow  (avalanche  debris) 
down  which  we  could  run  or  glissade  as  fast  as  we  liked. 

Glissading  is  a  very  pleasant  employment  when  it  is  accom- 
plished successfully,  and  I  have  never  seen  a  place  where  it  can  be 
more  safely  indulged  in  than 
the  snowy  valley  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  Glacier  de  Triolet. 
In  my  dreams  I  glissade  de- 
lightfully, but  in  practice  1 
find  that  somehow  the  snow 
will  not  behave  properly,  and 
that  my  alpenstock  will  get 
between  my  legs.  Then  my 
legs  go  where  my  head  should 
be,  and  I  see  the  sky  revolving 
at  a  rapid  pace ;  the  snow  rises 
up   and   smites    me,  and   runs 

away ;  and  when  it  is  at  last  overtaken  it  suddenly  stops,  and  we 
come  into  violent  collision.  Those  who  are  with  me  say  that  1 
tumble  head  over  heels,  and  there  may  be  some  truth  in  what  they 
say.  Streaks  of  ice  are  apt  to  make  the  heels  shoot  away,  and  stray 
stones  cause  one  to  pitch  headlong  down.  Somehow  these  things 
always  seem  to  come  in  the  way,  so  it  is  as  well  to  glissade  only 
when  there  is  something  soft  to  tumble  into.2 

Near  the  termination  of  the  glacier  we  could  not  avoid  travers- 
ing a  portion  of  its  abominable  moraine,  but  at  1.30  p.m.  we  were 

1  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  howl- 
ing waste  or  to  lose  much  time  upon  the  tedious  and  somewhat  difficult  rocks  of 
Mont  Rouge. 

2  In  glissading  an  erect  position  should  be  maintained,  and  the  point  of  the  alpen- 
stock allowed  to  trail  over  the  snow.  If  it  is  necessary  to  stop,  or  to  slacken  speed, 
the  point  is  pressed  against  the  slope,  as  shewn  in  the  illustration. 


SCRAMBLER  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  obaf.  ox. 

q&mi  "I  ii.  and  threw  ourselves  upon  smut-  springy  turf  consciotu 
that  cmr  day's  work  was  over.  An  hum  afterwards  we  resumed 
i lit-  march,  crossed  the  I  >«>ii»-  torrent  by  a  bridge  a  tittle  below 
Gruetta,  and  at  five  o'clock  entered  Counnayeur,  having  occupied 
somewhat  less  than  ben  boars  on  the  way.  Mr.  Girdlestone's  party 
taint-  in,  I  believe, about  four  bours  afterwards,  so  there  was  no 
doubt  that  we  made  a  shorter  pass  than  the  Col  du  Geanl ;  ami  we 
perhaps  discovered  a  quicker  way  of  getting  from  Chamounii  to 
('tuiniiavt'ui-,  or  vice  vena,  than  will  he  round  elsewhere,  so  long 
as  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc  remains  in  its  present  condition.1 

1  Comparison  of  the  ( So]  de  Triolet  with  the  Col  de  Talefre  will  shew  what  a  great 
difference  in  mm  there  ma;  It  between  tracks  which  are  nearly  klentieaL  Fur  adia- 
tanee  ofeevera]  miles  these  routee  are  eoaroely  more  than  balf-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  Talefre  may  perhaps  lie  improved.  It  may  be  i»os- 
.-il.l.-  to  go  directly  from  the  head  of  the  Glacier  tie  Triolet  to  its  right  bank,  and,  if 
so,  at  least  thirty  minutes  might  be  saved. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  so-called  passes  across  the  main  ridge  of  the  range  oi 
Mont  Blanc,  with  the  years  in  which  the  first  passages  were  effected,  so  far  as  1  know 
them  :— 1.  Col  de  Trelatete  (1864),  between  Aig.  dn  Glacier  and  Aigs.  tic  Tn'-latete. 
1.  Col  dit  Iufrauehissable  (1870),  between  the  Aigs.  de  Tn'lai.-tc  and  tin  Aig.  de 
liiage.  3.  Col  de  Miage,  between  Aig.  tie  Miage  ami  Aig.  tie  Bionnassay.  I.  Col 
du  Dome  (1865),  over  the  Dome  du  Gouter.  5.  Col  tin  Mont  Blanc  (1868),  over 
Mont  Blanc.  6.  Col  de  la  Brenva  (1865),  between  Mont  Blanc  and  Mont  Maudii. 
7.  Col  de  la  Tour  Konde  (1867),  over  la  Tour  Ronde.  8.  Col  du  Geant,  between  la 
Tour  Konde  and  Aigs.  Marbrees.  9.  Col  de  Rochefort  (1876),  between  tin-  Aignillei 
Marlines  ami  the  Aig.  du  Geant.  10.  Col  des  Grandee  Jorasses  (1874),  between 
Mont  Mallet  and  the  Grandee  Jorasses.  11.  Col  des  Hirondelles  (1873),  between 
tli>  Qrandei  and  1'etites  Jorasses.  12.  Col  de  Lesehaux  (1877),  between  the  a 
IKlHiulement  and  the  Aig.  de  Lesehaux.  13.  Col  Pierre  Joseph  (1866),  over  Aig 
de  l'Kl.oulrmeiit.  14.  Col  de  Talefre  (1865),  between  Aigs.  Talefre  and  Triolet. 
15.  Col  de  Triolet  (1864),  between  Aigs.  Talefre  aud  Triolet.  16.  Col  Dolent  (1865), 
between  Aig.  de  Triolet  and  Mont  Uoleut.  17.  Col  d'Argentiere  (1861),  between 
Mont  Doknt  and  la  Tour  Noire.  18.  Col  de  la  Tour  Noire  (1863),  between  the 
Tour  Noire  ami  the  Aig.  d'Aigcntierc.  19.  Col  du  Chardoanet  (1863),  between  Aigs. 
d'Argentiere  ami  Chanlonnet.  20.  Col  du  Tour  (earlier  than  1846),  betwaj 
du  Chardonuet  and  du  Tour. 


CHAPTER     XX 

THE    FIRST    ASCENT    OF    THE    KUINETTK  —  THE    MATTKKHORN. 
"In  almost  every  art,  experience  u  worth  more  than  precepts." 

QUINTILIAN. 

All  of  the  excursions  that  were  set  down  in  my  programme  had 
been  carried  out,  with  the  exception  of  the  ascent  of  the  Matter- 
horn,  and  we  now  turned  our  faces  in  its  direction,  but  instead  of 
returning  rid  the  Val  Tournanche,  we  took  a  route  across  country, 
and  bagged  upon  our  way  the  summit  of  the  lluinette. 

We  passed  the  night  of  July  4,  at  Aosta,  under  the  roof  of  the 
genial  Tairraz,  and  on  the  5th  went  by  the  Val  d'Ollomont  and 
the  Col  de  la  Fenetre  (9140)  to  Cherinontane.1  We  slept  that 
night  at  the  chalets  of  Chanrion  (a  foul  spot,  which  should  be 
avoided),  left  them  at  3.50  the  next  morning,  and  after  a  short 
scramble  over  the  slope  above,  and  a  little  tramp  on  the  Glacier  de 
Breney,  we  crossed  directly  to  the  Kuinette  (12,727  feet),  and  went 
almost  straight  up  it.  There  is  not,  I  suppose,  another  mountain 
in  the  Alps  of  the  same  height  that  can  be  ascended  so  easily. 
You  have  only  to  go  ahead :  upon  its  southern  side  one  can  walk 
about  almost  anywhere. 

Though  I  speak  thus  slightingly  of  a  very  respectable  peak,  I 
will  not  do  anything  of  the  kind  in  regard  to  the  view  which  it 
gives.  It  is  happily  placed  in  respect  to  the  rest  of  the  Pennine 
Alps,  and  as  a  stand-point  it  has  not  many  superiors.  You  see 
mountains,  and  nothing  but  mountains.  It  is  a  solemn — BOme 
woidd  say  a  drear}' — view,  but  it  is  very  grand.     The  great  Combin 

1  For  routes,  see  the  Map  of  the  Valley  of  Valpelliuc. 


Mfl  Q0RAMBLX8  AMONGST  Tin-:  ALPS.  obaf  n 

l \, hi i  .  with  its  noble  background  of  tin-  whole  range  of  llonl 
Blanc,  never  looks  so  big  as  it' does  from  here.  In  the  contrary 
direction,  the  Matterhorn  overpowers  all  besides.  The  I)ent 
d'Herens,  although  closer,  looks  a  mere  outlier  of  its  great  neigh- 
bour, and  the  snows  of  Monte  Rosa,  behind,  seem  intended  for  no 
other  purpose  than  to  give  relief  to  the  crags  in  front.  To  the 
smith  there  is  an  endless  array  of  Bee's  and  Becca's,  backed  by  the 
great  Italian  peaks,  whilst  to  the  north  Mont  Plenreur  (12,159) 
holds  its  own  against  the  more  distant  Wildstrubel. 

We  gained  the  summit  at  9.15,1  and  stayed  there  an  hour  and 
a  half.  My  faithful  guides  then  admonished  me  that  Prerayen 
whither  we  were  bound,  was  still  far  away,  and  that  we  had  yet  to 
cross  two  lofty  ridges.  So  we  resumed  our  harness  and  departed ; 
not,  however,  before  a  huge  cairn  had  been  built  out  of  the  1  docks 
of  gneiss  with  winch  the  summit  is  bestrewn.  Then  we  trotted 
down  the  slopes  of  the  Ruinette,  over  the  Glacier  de  Breney,  ami 
across  a  pass  which  I  called  the  Col  des  Portons,  after  the  neigh- 
bouring peaks.  Thence  we  proceeded  across  the  great  Otemma 
Glacier  towards  the  .Col  d'Olen. 

The  part  of  the  glacier  that  we  traversed  was  overspread  with 
snow  which  completely  concealed  its  numerous  pitfalls.  "We 
inarched  across  it  in  single  file,  and,  of  course,  roped  together. 
All  at  once  Aimer  dropped  into  a  crevasse  up  to  his  shoulders.  I 
pulled  in  the  rope  immediately,  but  the  snow  gave  way  as  it  wai 
being  done,  and  I  had  to  spread  out  my  arms  to  stop  my  descent. 
r.inier  held  fast,  but  said  afterwards,  that  his  feet  went  through  afl 
well,  so,  for  a  moment,  all  three  were  in  the  jaws  of  the  crevasse. 
We  now  slightly  altered  our  course,  so  as  to  take  the  fissures  tranfl- 
versely,  and  after  the  centre  of  the  glacier  was  passed  changed  it 
again  and  made  directly  for  the  summit  of  the  Col  d'Olen. 

1  After  crossing  the  Glacier  dc  Breney,  we  ascended  some  debris,  and  then  some 
cliffy  ground,  to  the  glacier  which  surrounds  the  ]«';ik  uihjii  tin-  smith  :  bore  bo  the  hit 
(that  is  to  the  west)  and  went  up  the  edge  of  the  glacier  ;  and  lastly  took  to  the  arete 
of  the  ridge  which  descends  towards  the  south-west,  and  followed  it  to  the  summit. 


chap.  xx.    WHY  GUIDES  OBJECT  TO  BE  TIED  ON  GLACIERS.      3M) 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  that  it  is  my  invariable 
practice  to  employ  a  rope  when  traversing  a  snow-covered  glacier. 
Many  guides,  even  the  best  ones,  object  to  be  roped,  more  especially 
early  in  the  morning  when  the  snow  is  hard.  They  object,  some- 
times, because  they  think  it  is  unnecessary.  Crevasses  that  are 
bridged  by  snow  are  almost  always  more  or  less  perceptible  by  un- 
dulations on  the  surface ;  the  snow  droops  down,  and  hollows  mark 
the  courses  of  the  chasms  beneath.  An  experienced  guide  usually 
notices  these  almost  imperceptible  wrinkles,  steps  on  one  side  or  the 
other,  as  the  case  may  require,  and  rarely  breaks  through  unawares. 
Guides  think  there  is  no  occasion  to  employ  a  rope  because  they 
think  that  they  will  not  be  taken  by  surprise.  Michel  Croz  was 
of  this  opinion,  and  used  to  say  that  only  imbeciles  and  children 
required  to  be  tied  up  in  the  morning.  I  told  him  that  in  this 
particular  matter  I  was  a  child  to  him.  "  You  see  these  things,  my 
good  Croz,  and  avoid  them.  I  do  not,  except  you  point  them  out 
to  me,  and  so  that  which  is  not  a  danger  to  you,  is  a  danger  to  me." 
The  sharper  one's  eyes  get  by  use,  the  less  is  a  rope  required  as  a 
protective  against  these  hidden  pitfalls  ;  but,  according  to  my 
experience,  the  sight  never  becomes  so  keen  that  they  can  be 
avoided  with  unvarying  certainty,  and  I  mentioned  what  occurred 
upon  the  Otemma  Glacier  to  shew  that  this  is  so. 

I  well  remember  my  first  passage  of  the  Col  Theodule — the 
easiest  of  the  higher  Alpine  glacier  passes.  We  had  a  rope,  and 
my  guide  said  it  was  not  necessary  to  use  it,  as  he  knew  all  the 
crevasses.  However,  we  did  not  go  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before  he 
dropped  through  the  snow  into  a  crevasse  up  to  his  neck.  He  was 
a  heavy  man,  and  would  scarcely  have  extricated  himself  alone ; 
anyhow,  he  was  very  glad  of  my  assistance.  When  he  got  on  to 
his  legs  again,  he  said,  "  Well,  I  had  no  idea  that  there  was  a 
crevasse  there  ! "  He  no  longer  objected  to  use  the  rope,  and  we 
proceeded ;  upon  my  part,  with  greater  peace  of  mind  than  before. 
I  have  crossed  the  pass  eighteen  times  since  then,  and  have  in- 
variably insisted  upon  being  tied  together. 


360  BORAMBLBB  AMONGST  THE  .i/./'s.  chat,  a 

Guides  object  to  tin-  use  of  the  rope  upon  snow-covered  gladei 

i.i'cansr  they  ;iiv  afraid  of  being  laughed  mi  by  their  comrades; 
.iii.l  this,  perhaps,  is  the  more  common  reason.  To  illustrate  this, 
here  is  another  Theodule  experience.  We  arrived  at  the  edge  of 
the  ice,  and  I  required  to  be  tied.  My  guide  (a  Zermatt  man  of 
repute)  said  that  no  one  used  a  rope  ^uin^  across  thai  pass.  I 
declined  t<>  argue  the  matter,  and  we  put  <>n  the  rope;  though 
\. TV  much  against  the  wish  of  my  man,  who  protested  that  he 

should  have  to  Submit  to  perpetual  ridicule  if  we  met  any  of  his 
acquaintances.     We  had   not  gone  wit  far   before  We  s;i\v  a   train 

ooming  in  the  contrary  direction.  Ah!"  cried  my  man.  "there 
is  Ritas  (mentioning  s  guide  who  used  to  be  kept  at  the  RifieJ 
Hotel  for  the  ascent  of  Monte  Boss)  ;  it  will  he  as  I  said,  I  shall 
never  hear  the  end  of  this."  The  guide  we  met  was  followed  by  a 
string  of  tom-fools,  none  of  whom  were  tied  together,  and  had  his 
face  covered  by  a  mask  to  prevent  it  becoming  Mistered.  After 
we  had  passed,  I  said, "  Now,  should  Rita  make  any  observations 
to  you,  ask  him  why  he  takes  such  extraordinary  care  to  preserve 
the  skin  of  his  face,  which  will  grow  again  in  a  week,  when  he 
neglects  such  an  obvious  precaution  in  regard  to  Ins  life,  which  he 
can  only  lose  once."  This  was  quite  a  new  idea  to  my  guide,  and 
he  said  nothing  move  against  the  use  of  the  rope  so  long  as  we 
were  together. 

I  believe  that  the  unwillingness  to  use  a  rope  upon  snow- 
covered  glacier  which  horn  mountaineers  not  unfrequently  exhibit, 
arises — First,  on  the  part  of  expert  men,  from  the  conscioui 
that  they  themselves  incur  little  risk:  secondly,  on  the  part  of 
inferior  men,  from  fear  of  ridicule,  and  from  aping  the  waj 
their  superiors;  and,  thirdly,  from  pure  ignorance  or  Laziness. 
Whatever   may    he    the    reason,    I    raise   up  my  voice  against    the 

neglect  of  a  precaution  so  simple  and  so  effectual.  In  my  opinion, 
the  very  first  thing  a  glacier  traveller  requires  is  plenty  of  g I 

lope. 

A  committee  of    the    Kurdish    Alpine    Club  was  appointed    in 


chap.  xx.  ON  ABUSE  OF  THE  Ron:.  361 

1864  to  test,  and  to  report  upon,  the  most  suitable  ropes  for 
mountaineering  purposes,  and  those  which  were  approved  are 
probably  as  good  as  can  be  found.  One  is  made  of  Manilla  and 
another  of  Italian  hemp.  The  former  is  the  heavier,  and  weighs 
a  little  more  than  an  ounce  per  foot  (103  ozs.  to  100  feet).  The 
latter  weighs  79  ozs.  per  100  feet ;  but  I  prefer  the  Manilla  rope, 
because  it  is  more  handy  to  handle.  Both  of  these  ropes  will 
sustain  168  lbs.  falling  10  feet,  or  196  lbs.  falling  8  feet,  and  they 
break  with  a  dead  weight  of  two  tons.1  In  1865  we  carried  two 
100  feet  lengths  of  the  Manilla  rope,  and  the  inconvenience  arising 
from  its  weight  was  more  than  made  up  for  by  the  security  which 
it  afforded.  Upon  several  occasions  it  was  worth  more  than  an 
extra  guide. 

Now,  touching  the  use  of  the  rope.  There  is  a  right  way,  and 
there  are  wrong  ways  of  using  it.  I  often  meet,  upon  glacier- 
passes,  elegantly -got -up  persons,  who  are  clearly  out  of  their 
element,  with  a  guide  stalking  along  in  front,  paying  no  attention 

to  the  innocents  in 
his  charge.  *  They 
are  tied  together  as 
a  matter  of  form, 
but  they  evidently 
have  no  idea  vhi/ 
they  are  tied  up, 
for  they  walk  side 
by  side,  or  close  together,  with  the  rope  trailing  on  the  snow.  If 
one  tumbles  into  a  crevasse,  the  rest  stare,  and  say,  "  La !  what  is 
the  matter  with  Smith  ?"  unless,  as  is  more  likely,  they  all  tumble 
in  together.  This  is  the  wrong  way  to  use  a  rope.  It  is  abuse  of 
the  rope. 

It  is  of  the  first  importance  to  keep  the  rope  taut  from  man  to 
man.  If  this  is  not  done,  the  rope  affords  no  real  security  and  your 
risks  may  be  considerably  magnified.     There  is  little  difficulty  in 

1   Manufactured  and  sold  by  Mr.  J.  Buckingham,  196  Shaftesbury  Avi'inie.  W.C. 

3  A 


Ml  SCRAMBLES  AMONdST  THE  ALTS.  OHAP.  XX. 

extricating  one  man  who  breaks  through  a  bridged  crevasse  if  the 
rope  is  taut ;  but  the  case  may  be  very  awkward  if  two  break 
through  at  the  same  moment,  close  together,  and  there  are  only 
two  others  to  aid,  or  perhaps  only  one  other.  Further,  the  rope 
ought  not  upon  any  account  to  graze  over  snow,  ice,  or  rocks, 
otherwise  the  strands  suffer,  and  the  lives  of  the  whole  party  may 
be  endangered.  Apart  from  this,  it  is  extremely  annoying  to  have 
a  rope  knocking  about  one's  heels.  If  circumstances  render  it 
impossible  for  the  rope  to  be  kept  taut  by  itself,  the  men  behind 
should  gather  it  up   round   their   hands,1  and   not  allow   it   to 


THE    RIGHT    WAY   TO    USE   THE    ROPF. 


incommode  those  in  advance.  A  man  must  either  be  incompetent, 
mi vloss,  or  selfish,  if  he  permits  the  rope  to  dangle  about  the  heels 
of  the  person  in  front  of  him. 

The  distance  from  man  to  man  must  neither  be  too  great  nor 
too  small.  About  12  feet  between  each  is  sufficient.  If  theiv  BIS 
only  two  or  three  persons,  it  is  prudent  to  allow  a  little  more — 
say  1">  feet.  More  than  this  is  unnecessary,  and  less  than  9  or  1" 
feet  is  not  much  good. 

It  is  essential  to  examine  your  rope  from  time  to  time  to 

that  it  is  in  good  condition,  and  if  you  are  wise  you  will  do  this 

yourself  every  day.     Latterly,  I  have  examined  every  inch  of  my 

rope  overnight,  and  upon  more  than  one  occasion  have  found  the 

strands  of  the  Manilla  rope  nearly  half  severed  through  accidental 

grazes. 

1  For  example,  when  the  loader  suspects  crevasses,  and  sounds  for  them,  in  the 
manner  shewn  in  tin-  engraving,  he  usually  loses  half  a  step  or  more.  The  second 
man  should  take  a  turn  of  the  rope  round  his  hand  to  draw  it  book  in  MM  the 
leader  goes  through. 


CHAP.  xx.  ON  THE  USE  OF  THE  ROPE.  183 

Thus  far  the  rope  has  been  supposed  to  be  employed  upon  level, 
simw-covered  glacier,  to  prevent  any  risk  from  concealed  crevasses. 
On  rocks  and  on  slopes  it  is  used  for  a  different  purpose  (namely, 
to  guard  against  slips),  and  in  these  cases  it  is  equally  important 
to  keep  it  taut,  and  to  preserve  a  reasonable  distance  one  from  the 
other.  It  is  much  more  troublesome  to  keep  the  rope  taut  upon 
slopes  than  upon  the  level ;  and  upon  difficult  rocks  it  is  all  but 
impossible,  except  by  adopting  the  plan  of  moving  only  one  at  a 
time  (see  p.  157). 

There  is  no  good  reason  for  employing  a  rope  upon  easy  rocks, 
and  I  believe  that  its  needless  use  is  likely  to  promote  carelessness. 
On  difficult  rocks  and  on  snow-slopes  (frequently  improperly  called 
ice-slopes)  it  is  a  great  advantage  to  be  tied  together,  provided  the 
rope  is  handled  properly ;  but  upon  actual  ice-slopes,  such  as  that 
on  the  Col  Dolent  (p.  338),  or  upon  slopes  in  which  ice  is  mingled 
with  small  and  loose  rocks,  such  as  the  ujfper  part  of  the  Pointe 
des  Ecrins  (p.  201),  it  is  almost  useless,  because  the  slip  of  one 
person  might  upset  the  entire  party.1  I  am  not  prepared  to  say, 
however,  that  men  should  not  be  tied  together  upon  similar  slopes. 
Being  attached  to  others  usually  gives  confidence,  and  confidence 
decidedly  assists  stability.  It  is  more  questionable  whether  men 
should  be  in  such  places  at  all.  If  a  man  can  keep  on  his  feet  upon 
an  escalier  cut  in  an  ice-slope,  I  see  no  reason  why  he  should  be 
debarred  from  making  use  of  that  particular  form  of  staircase.  If 
he  cannot,  let  him  keep  clear  of  such  places. 

There  would  be  no  advantage  in  discoursing  upon  the  use  of 
the  rope  at  greater  length.     A  single  day  upon  a  mountain's  side 

1  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  he  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  jwrty. 
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 


:n;4  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap,  xx 

will  give  i  dealer  idea  of  the  value  of  a  good  rope,  and  <>t  the 
numerous  purposes  for  which  it  may  be  employed, than  any  one 
will  obtain  from  reading  all  that  has  been  written  upon  the 
subject;  but  no  one  will  become  really  expert  in  its  management 
without  much  experience. 

Prom  the  Col  d'Olen1  we  proceeded  down  the  Combe  of  the 
same  name  to  the  chalets  of  Prerayen,  and  passed  tin-  night  of  the 
6th  under  the  roof  of  our  old  acquaintance,  the  wealthy  herdsman. 
On  the  7th  we  crossed  the  Va  Cornere  pass,  en  rovt<  tm  Iheuil. 
My  thoughts  were  fixed  on  the  Matterhorn,  and  my  guides  knew 
that  I  wished  them  to  accompany  ma  They  had  an  aversion  to 
the  mountain,  and  repeatedly  expressed  their  belief  that  it  was 
useless  to  try  to  ascend  it.  "Anything  but  Matterhorn,  dear  sir  '." 
.said  Aimer;  "anything  but  Matterhorn."  He  did  not  speak  of 
difficulty  or  of  danger,  nor  was  he  shirking  work.  He  offered  to 
go  anywhere;  but  he  entreated  that  the  Matterhorn  should  be 
abandoned.  Both  men  spoke  fairly  enough.  They  did  not  think 
that  an  ascent  could  be  made ;  and  for  their  own  credit,  as  well 
as  for  my  sake,  they  did  not  wish  to  undertake  a  business  which, 
in  their  opinion,  would  only  lead  to  loss  of  time  and  money. 

I  sent  them  by  the  short  cut  to  Breuil,  and  walked  down  to 
Val  Tournanche  to  look  for  Jean-Antoine  Carrel.  He  was  not 
there.  The  villagers  said  that  he,  and  three  others,  had  started 
on  the  6th  to  try  the  Matterhorn  by  the  old  way,  on  their  own 
account.  They  will  have  no  luck,  I  thought,  for  the  clouds  were 
low  down  on  the  mountains ;  and  1  walked  up  to  Breuil,  fully 
expecting  to  meet  them.  Nor  was  I  disappointed.  About  half- 
way up  I  saw  a  group  of  men  clustered  around  a  chalet  upon  the 
other  side  of  the  torrent,  and,  crossing  over,  found  that  the  party 

him,  and  so  on  until  the  last.     The  last  man  still  occupies  the  most  difficult  ]K)8t, 
and  should  be  the  steadiest  man  ;  but  he  is  not  exposed  to  any  risk  from  his  com- 
rades slipping,  and  they,  of  course,  draw  in  the  ro]*e  as  he  descends,  so  that  his 
position  is  less  hazardous  than  if  he  were  to  come  down  quite  by  hfaiwlf 
1  On  Swiss  Government  .Majis  this  pass  is  now  called  Col  d'Oren 


OUF.  IX.  DEFECTION  OF  THE  CARltELS.  365 

had  returned.  Jean-Antoine  and  Caesar  were  there,  C.  E.  Gorret, 
and  J.- J.  Maquignaz.  They  had  had  no  success.  The  weather, 
they  said,  had  been  horrible,  and  they  had  scarcely  reached  the 
Glacier  du  Lion. 

I  explained  the  situation  to  Carrel,  and  proposed  that  we, 
with  Caesar  and  another  man,  should  cross  the  Theodule  by  moon- 
light on  the  9th,  and  that  upon  the  10th  we  should  pitch  the 
tent  as  high  as  possible  upon  the  east  face.  He  was  unwilling 
to  abandon  the  old  route,  and  urged  me  to  try  it  again.  I 
promised  to  do  so  provided  the  new  route  failed.  This  satisfied 
him,  and  he  agreed  to  my  proposal.  I  then  went  up  to  Breuil, 
and  discharged  Aimer  and  Biener — with  much  regret,  for  no  two 
men  ever  served  me  more  faithfully  or  more  willingly.1  On  the 
next  day  they  crossed  to  Zermatt. 

The  8th  was  occupied  with  preparations.  The  weather  was 
stormy ;  and  black,  rainy  vapours  obscured  the  mountains.  Towards 
evening  a  young  man  came  from  Val  Tournanche,  and  reported 
that  an  Englishman  was  lying  there,  extremely  ill.  Now  was  the 
time  for  the  performance  of  my  vow;2  and  on  the  morning  of 
Sunday  the  9th  I  went  down  the  valley  to  look  after  the  sick  man. 
On  my  way  I  passed  a  foreign  gentleman,  with  a  mule  and  several 
porters  laden  with  baggage.  Amongst  these  men  were  Jean- 
Antoine  and  Caesar,  carrying  some  barometers.  "  Hullo ! "  I  said, 
"what  are  you  doing?"  They  explained  that  the  foreigner  had 
arrived  just  as  they  were  setting  out,  and  that  they  were  assisting 
his  porters.  "  Very  well ;  go  on  to  Breuil,  and  await  me  there ;  we 
start  at  midnight  as  agreed."  Jean-Antoine  then  said  that  he 
should  not  be  able  to  serve  me  after  Tuesday  the  11th,  as  he  was 
engaged  to  travel  "  with  a  family  of  distinction  "  in  the  valley  of 
Aosta.  "  And  Caesar  ? "  "  And  Caesar  also."  "  Why  did  you  not 
say  this  before  ? "     "  Because,"  said  he,  "  it  was  not  settled.     The 

1  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 
-  See  p.  109. 


M6  St'ltAMULES   ,1.1  Till-:   A  I  cii.u-.  \\. 

engagement  is  of  long  standing,  but  the  day  was  ool  fixed.  When 
1  ur"t  back  to  Val  ToumuneKe  on  Friday  ni.ulit,  after  Leaving  yon, 
I  found  a  letter  naming  the  day."  I  could  nut  object  to  tin- 
answer;  still  the  prospect  of  being  left  guideless  was  provoking. 
They  went  up,  and  I  down,  the  valley. 

The  sick  man  declared  that  he  was  better,  though  the  exertion 
of  saying  as  much  tumbled  him  over  on  to  the  floor  in  a  fainting  lit. 
Se  was  badly  in  want  of  medicine,  and  I  tramped  down  to  Clia- 
tillon  to  get  it.  It  was  late  before  I  returned  to  Val  Tournanche, 
for  the  weather  was  tempestuous,  and  rain  fell  in  torrents.  A  figure 
passed  me  under  the  church-porch.  "  Qui  vive?  "  "  Jean-Antoine." 
"  I  thought  you  were  at  Breuil."  "  No,  sir :  when  the  storms  came 
on  I  knew  we  should  not  start  to-night,  and  so  canie  down  to  sleep 
here."  "  Ha,  Carrel ! "  I  said ;  "  this  is  a  great  bore.  If  to-morrow 
is  not  fine  we  shall  not  be  able  to  do  anything  together.  I  have 
sent  away  my  guides,  relying  on  you ;  and  now  you  are  going  to 
leave  me  to  travel  with  a  party  of  ladies.  That  work  is  not  fit  for 
you  (he  smiled,  I  supposed  at  the  implied  compliment) ;  can't  you 
send  some  one  else  instead  ? "  "  No,  monsieur.  I  am  sorry,  but  my 
word  is  pledged.  I  should  like  to  accompany  you,  but  I  can't 
break  my  engagement."  By  this  time  we  had  arrived  at  the  inn 
door.  "  Well,  it  is  no  fault  of  yours.  Come  presently  with  Caesar, 
and  have  some  wine."  They  came,  and  we  sat  up  till  midnight, 
recounting  our  old  adventures,  in  the  inn  of  Val  Tournanche. 

The  weather  continued  bad  upon  the  10th,  and  I  returned  to 
Breuil.  The  two  Carrels  were  again  hovering  about  the  above- 
mentioned  chalet,  and  I  bade  them  adieu.  In  the  evening  the  sick 
man  crawled  up,  a  good  deal  better;  but  his  was  the  only  arrival 
The  Monday  crowd1  did  not  cross  the  The\)dule,  on  account  of  tin- 
continued  storms.  The  inn  was  lonely.  I  went  to  bed  early,  and 
was  awoke  the  next  morning  by  the  invalid  inquiring  if  I  had 
"heard  the  news."     "No;  what  news?"     "Why,"  said  he,  "a 

1  Tourists  congregate  at  Zcrmatt  upon  Sundays,  and  large  gangs  and  droves 
usually  cross  the  Tlu-odule  pass  on  Mondays. 


CHAr.  xx.  THE  ITALIANS  STEAL  A  MARCH.  367 

large  party  of  guides  went  off  this  morning  to  try  the  Matterhorn, 
taking  with  them  a  mule  laden  with  provisions." 

I  went  to  the  door,  and  with  a  telescope  saw  the  party  upon 
the  lower  slopes  of  the  mountain.  Favre,  the  landlord,  stood  by. 
"  What  is  all  this  about  ? "  I  inquired,  "  who  is  the  leader  of  this 
party?"  "Carrel."  "What!  Jean-Antoine  ?"  "Yes;  Jean- 
Antoine."  "  Is  Caesar  there  too  ? "  "  Yes,  he  is  there."  Then  I  saw 
in  a  moment  that  I  had  been  bamboozled  and  humbugged ;  and 
learned,  bit  by  bit,  that  the  affair  had  been  arranged  long  before- 
hand. The  start  on  the  6th  had  been  for  a  preliminary'  reconnais- 
sance; the  mule,  that  I  passed,  was  conveying  stores  for  the  attack: 
the  '  family  of  distinction '  was  Signor  F.  Giordano,  who  had  just 
despatched  the  party  to  facilitate  the  way  to  the  summit,  and  who, 
when  the  facilitation  was  completed,  was  to  be  taken  to  the  top 
along  with  Signor  Sella  !  * 

I  was  greatly  mortified.  My  plans  were  upset ;  the  Italians 
had  clearly  stolen  a  march  upon  me,  and  I  saw  that  the  astute 
Favre  chuckled  over  my  discomfiture,  because  the  route  by  the 
eastern  face,  if  successful,  would  not  benefit  his  inn.  What  was  to 
be  done  ?  I  retired  to  my  room,  and  soothed  by  tobacco,  re-studied 
my  plans,  to  see  if  it  was  not  possible  to  outmanoeuvre  the  Italians. 
"  They  have  taken  a  mule's  load  of  provisions."  "  That  is  one  point 
in  my  favour,  for  they  will  take  two  or  three  days  to  get  through 
the  food,  and,  until  that  is  done,  no  work  will  be  accomplished." 
"  How  is  the  weather  ? "  I  went  to  the  window.  The  mountain  was 
smothered  up  in  mist.  "  Another  point  in  my  favour."  "  They  are 
to  facilitate  the  way.  Well,  if  they  do  that  to  any  purpose,  it  will 
be  a  long  job."  Altogether,  I  reckoned  that  they  could  not  pos- 
sibly ascend  the  mountain  and  come  back  to  Breuil  in  loss  than 
seven  days.  I  got  cooler,  for  it  was  evident  that  the  wily  ones 
might  be  outwitted  after  all.  There  was  time  enough  to  go  to 
Zermatt,  to  try  the  eastern  face,  and,  should  it  prove  impracticable, 

1  The  Italian  Minister.  Signor  Giordano  had  undertaken  the  business  arrange- 
ments for  Signor  Sella. 


368  90RAMV,1.ES  AMONGST   THE   A  LI'S.  .hu'.xx. 

.it-  Lack  to  Breuil  before  the  men  returned  :  and  then,  it  seemed 
Bo  me,  as  the  mountain  was  not  padlocked,  one  might  start  at  the 
same  time  as  the  Messieurs,  and  yet  get  to  the  top  before  them. 

The  first  thing  to  do  was  to  go  to  Zerraatt.  Easier  said  than 
done.  The  seven  guides  upon  the  mountain  included  the  ablest 
men  in  the  valley,  and  none  of  the  ordinary  muleteer-guides  were 
at  Breuil.  Two  men,  at  least,  were  wanted  for  my  baggage,  but  not 
a  soul  could  be  found.  I  ran  about,  and  sent  about  in  all  direc- 
tions, but  not  a  single  porter  could  be  obtained.  One  was  with 
Carrel;  another  was  ill;  another  was  at  Chatillon,  and  so  forth. 
Even  Meynet,  the  hunchback,  could  not  be  induced  to  come:  he 
was  in  the  thick  of  some  important  cheese-making  operations.  I 
was  in  the  position  of  a  general  without  an  army ;  it  was  all  very 
well  to  make  plans,  but  there  was  no  one  to  execute  them.  This 
did  not  much  trouble  me,  for  it  was  evident  that  so  long  as  the 
weather  stopped  traffic  over  the  Theodule,  it  would  hinder  the 
men  equally  upon  the  Matterhorn ;  and  I  knew  that  directly  it 
improved  company  would  certainly  arrive. 

About  mid -day  on  Tuesday  the  11th  a  large  party  hove  in 
sight  from   Zermatt,  preceded  by  a   nimble  young   Englishman, 

and  one  of  old  Peter  Taugwalder's 
sons.1  I  went  at  once  to  this  gen  t  lei na  1 1 
to  learn  if  he  could  dispense  with 
Taugwalder.  He  said  that  he  con  Id 
not,  as  they  were  going  to  recross  to 
Zermatt  on  the  morrow,  but  that  the 
young  man  should  assist  in  transport- 
ing my  baggage,  as  he  had  nothing  to 
carry.  We  naturally  got  into  eonver- 
lord  francis  douglas.  sation.     I  told  my  story,  and  learned 

that  the  young  Englishman  was  Lord  Francis   Douglas,     whose 

1  Peter  Taugwalder,  the  father,  was  called  old  Peter,  to  distinguish  liini  from  his 
eldeat  son,  young  Peter.     In  1866  tin-  father's  age  was  about  45. 

7  Brother  of  the  present  Marquis  of  ^ueensl>erry.     An  account  of  his  ascent  of 


GOOD  XKU'S. 


369 


recent  exploit — the  ascent  of  the  Gabelhorn — had  excited  my 
wonder  and  admiration.  He  brought  good  news.  Old  Peter  had 
lately  been  beyond  the  Hbrnli,  and  had  reported  that  he  thought 
an  ascent  of  the  Matterhorn  was  possible  upon  that  side.  Aimer 
had  left  Zermatt,  and  could  not  be  recovered,  so  I  determined  to 
seek  for  old  Peter.     Lord  Francis  Douglas  expressed  a  warm  desire 


THE   CHAPEL   AT   THE   SCHWARZSEE  (LAC    NOIR)   IN    1865. 

to  ascend  the  mountain,  and  before  long  it  was  determined  that  lie 
should  take  part  in  the  expedition. 

Favre  could  no  longer  hinder  our  departure,  and  lent  us  one  of 
his  men.  We  crossed  the  Col  Theodule  on  Wednesday  morning 
the  12th  of  July,  rounded  the  foot  of  the  Ober  Theodulgletsehcr. 
crossed  the  Furggengletscher,  and  deposited  tent,  blankets,  ropes, 
and  other  matters  in  the  little  chapel  at  the  Schwarzsee.1     All 

the  Gabelhorn,  on  July  7,  1865  (the  first  made  on  the  Zinalside)  was  found  after 
his  death  amongst  his  papers,  and  was  published  in  the  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  ii. 
pp.  221-2. 

1  For  route,  and  the  others   mentioned   in  the  subsequent   chapters,   sec   the 
map  of  the  Matterhorn  and  its  <  daciers. 

3b 


370  SrilAMHI.ES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  0BA1 

four  were  heavily  laden,  far  we  brought  across  the  whole  of  my 
stores  from  Breuil.  Of  rope  alone  there  was  about  600  feet.  Then 
were  three  kinds.  First,  200  feet  of  the  Manilla  rope;  second. 
150  feet  of  a  stouter,  and  probably  stronger  rope  than  the  first ; 
and  third,  more  than  200  feet  of  a  lighter  and  weaker  rope  than 
the  first,  of  a  kind  that  I  used  formerly  (stout  sash-line). 

We  descended  to  Zermatt,  sought  and  engaged  old  Peter,  and 
gave  him  permission  to  choose  another  guide.  When  we  returned 
to  the  Monte  llosa  Hotel,  whom  should  we  see  sitting  upon  the 
wall  in  front  but  my  old  guide  chef,  Michel  Croz.     I  supposed  that 

he  had  come  with  Mr.  B ,  but  I  learned  that  that  gentleman 

had  arrived  in  ill -health,  at  Chamounix,  and  had  returned  to 
England.  Croz,  thus  left  free,  had  been  immediately  engaged  by 
the  Rev.  Charles  Hudson,  and  they  had  come  to  Zermatt  with  the 
same  object  as  ourselves — namely,  to  attempt  the  ascent  of  the 
Matterhorn ! 

Lord  Francis  Douglas  and  I  dined  at  the  Monte  Rosa  Hotel, 
and  had  just  finished  when  Mr.  Hudson  and  a  friend  entered  the 
salle  a  manger.  They  had  returned  from  inspecting  the  mountain, 
and  some  idlers  in  the  room  demanded  their  intentions.  We  heard 
a  confirmation  of  Croz's  statement,  and  learned  that  Mr.  Hudson 
intended  to  set  out  on  the  morrow  at  the  same  hour  as  ourselves. 
We  left  the  room  to  consult,  and  agreed  it  was  undesirable  thai 
two  independent  parties  should  be  on  the  mountain  at  the  same 
time  with  the  same  object.  Mr.  Hudson  was  therefore  invited  to 
join  us,  and  he  accepted  our  proposal.  Before  admitting  his  friend 
— Mr.  Hadow — I  took  the  precaution  to  inquire  what  he  had  done 
in  the  Alps,  and,  as  well  as  I  remember,  Mr.  Hudson's  reply  was, 
"Mr.  Hadow  has  done  Mont  Blanc  in  less  time  tliau  most  men."  ' 
He  then  mentioned  several  other  excursions  that  were  unknown  to 

1  In  the  Alpine.  Journal,  vol.  iii.  pp.  7">-7*i,  Mi.  T.  S.  Ki'imi-dy.  in  speaking  of 
this  ascent  (which  was  I  believe  made  upon  the  7th  of  July  1865),  says  that  Mr. 
Hadow  went  from  the  brands  Millets  to  the  summit  of  Kant  Blue  in  leM  than  four 
liour-i  and  a  half,  and  descended  from  the  summit  to  Chamounix  in  fire  hovn 


CHAP.  \\.  MEETING  WITH  CROZ  AND  HUDSON.  Ml 

me,  and  tdded,  in  answer  to  a  further  question,  "  I  consider  he  is  a 
sufficiently  good  man  to  go  with  us."  Mr.  Hadow  was  admitted 
without  any  further  question,  and  we  then  went  into  the  matter 
of  guides.  Hudson  thought  that  Croz  and  old  Peter  would  be 
sufficient.  The  question  was  referred  to  the  men  themselves,  and 
they  made  no  objection. 

So  Croz  and  I  became  comrades  once  more ;  and  as  I  threw 
myself  on  my  bed  and  tried  to  go  to  sleep,  I  wondered  at  the 
strange  series  of  chances  which  had  first  separated  us  and  then 
brought  vis  together  again.  I  thought  of  the  mistake  through 
which  he  had  accepted  the  engagement  to  Mr.  B ;  of  his  un- 
willingness to  adopt  my  route ;  of  his  recommendation  to  transfer 
our  energies  to  the  chain  of  Mont  Blanc;  of  the  retirement  of 
Aimer  and  Biener;  of  the  desertion  of  Carrel;  of  the  arrival  of 
Lord  Francis  Douglas;  and,  lastly,  of  our  accidental  meeting  at 
Zermatt;  and  as  I  pondered  over  these  things  I  could  not  help 
asking,  "  What  next  ?  "  If  any  one  of  the  links  of  this  fatal  chain 
of  circumstances  had  been  omitted,  what  a  different  story  I  should 
have  to  tell ! 


KKV.    CHARLES    HUOSON. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE   F1KST  ASCENT  OF  THE  MATTEBHOBN. 

"Had  we  succeeded  well, 

We  had  l>een  reckoned  'mongat  the  wise:  our  minds 

Are  so  disposed  to  judge  from  the  event." 

Kr  ui  11  in  IS, 

"It  is  a  thoroughly  unfair,  bat  an  ordinary  custom,  to  i>raise  or  blame  designs 
t,  which  in  themselves  may  be  good  or  bad)  just  as  they  turn  out  well  or  ill.  Hence 
the  same  actions  are  at  one  time  attributed  to  earnestness  and  at  another  to  vanity." 

Puny  Mi.v 

We  started  from  Zermatt  on  the  13th  of  July  1865,  at  half-past  5, 
on  u  brilliant  anil  perfectly  cloudless  morning.  We  were  eight  in 
number  —  Croz,  old  Peter  and  his  two  sons,1  Lord  F.  Douglas, 
Hadow,  Hudson,2  and  I.     To  ensure  steady  motion,  one  tourist  and 

1  The  two  youug  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. 

'*'  I  remember  speaking  about  pedestrianism  to  a  well-known  mountaineer  sunn 
years  ago,  and  venturing  to  remark  that  a  man  who  averaged  thirty  miles  a-day  might 
1»  lonsidered  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  after- 
wards lie  wrote  to  say  he  ought  to  let  me  know  that  a  young  and  delicate  la 
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?" 
••  lb-  live.-.."'  "  And  who  was  v<>ui  extraordinary  friend?"  "Charles  Hudson."  1 
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  yood  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  organise] 
and  leader  of  the  party  of  Englishmen  who  ascended  Mont  Blane  by  the  Aig.  du 
Goutcr,  and  descended  by  tho  Grands  Mulets  route,  without  guides,  in  1855.     His 


chap.  xxi.  THE  START  FROM  ZERMATT.  373 

one  native  walked  together.  The  youngest  Taugwalder  fell  to  my 
share,  and  the  lad  marched  well,  proud  to  be  on  the  expedition, 
and  happy  to  shew  his  powers.  The  wine-bags  also  fell  to  my  lot 
to  carry,  and  throughout  the  day,  after  each  drink,  I  replenished 
them  secretly  with  water,  so  that  at  the  next  halt  they  were  found 
fuller  than  before !  This  was  considered  a  good  omen,  and  little 
short  of  miraculous.  • 

On  the  first  day  we  did  not  intend  to  ascend  to  any  great 
height,  and  we  mounted,  accordingly,  very  leisurely ;  picked  up  the 
things  which  were  left  in  the  chapel  at  the  Schwarzsee  at  8.20, 
and  proceeded  thence  along  the  ridge  connecting  the  Hornli  with 
the  Matterhorn.1  At  half-past  11  we  arrived  at  the  base  of  the 
actual  peak;  then  quitted  the  ridge,  and  clambered  round  some 

long  practice  made  him  surefooted,  and  in  that  res[»ect  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  some  of  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. 

1  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.  89),  marked  3298  metres  upon  the  map  of  the  Matterhorn  and  its  Glaciers. 


374  SCRAMBLES  AMUNUST  Till:  A  LI'S.  CHAP. XXI 

-.  "ii  to  the  eastern  face.  We  were  now  fairly  upon  the 
mountain,  and  were  astonished  to  find  that  places  which  from 
the  IJiffel,  or  even  from  the  Kurggengletscher,  looked  entirely 
impracticable,  were  so  easy  that  we  could  run  about. 

Before  twelve  o'clock  we  had  found  a  good  position  for  the 
tent,  at  a  height  of  1 1,000  feet.1  Croz  and  young  Peter  went  on 
to  see  what  was  above,  in  order  to  save  time  on  the  following  morn- 
ing. They  cut  across  the  heads  of  the  snow-slopes  which  descended 
inwards  the  Furggengletscher,  and  disappeared  round  a  corner; 
but  shortly  afterwards  we  saw  them  high  up  on  the  face,  moving 
quickly.  We  others  made  a  solid  platform  for  the  tent  in  a  well- 
protected  spot,  and  then  watched  eagerly  for  the  return  of  the 
iii«*ii-  The  stones  which  they  upset  told  us  that  they  were  very 
high,  and  we  supposed  that  the  way  must  be  easy.  At  length,  just 
before  3  p.m.,  we  saw  them  coming  down,  evidently  much  excited. 
What  are  they  saying,  Peter?"  "Gentlemen,  they  say  it  is  no 
good."  But  when  they  came  near  we  heard  a  different  story. 
"Nothing  but  what  was  good;  not  a  difficulty,  not  a  single  diffi- 
culty !  We  could  have  gone  to  the  summit  and  returned  to-day 
easily ! " 

We  passed  the  remaining  hours  of  daylight — some  basking  in 
the  sunshine,  some  sketching  or  collecting ;  and  when  the  sun  went 
down,  giving,  as  it  departed,  a  glorious  promise  for  the  morrow,  we 
returned  to  the  tent  to  arrange  for  the  night.  Hudson  made  tea, 
I  coffee,  ami  we  then  retired  each  one  to  his  blanket  bag;  theTaug- 
walders,  Lord  Francis  Douglas,  and  myself,  occupying  the  tent,  the 

Stopj>ed  10  min.  here.  From  the  Hornli  to  this  point  we  kept,  when  possible,  to 
the  crest  of  the  ridge.  The  greater  part  of  the  way  was  excessively  easy,  bat  tlnic 
were  a  few  places  where  the  axe  had  to  be  used. 

1  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  shew  them  that  we  were  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.  272  by  a  little  circular  white  spot,  in  a  line  with  the  word  camp. 


(SAP.  xxi.  ASCENT  OF  THE  EASTERN  FACE.  375 

others  remaining,  by  preference,  outside.  Long  after  dusk  the 
cliffs  above  echoed  with  our  laughter  and  with  the  songs  of  the 
guides,  for  we  were  happy  that  night  in  camp,  and  feared  no  evil. 

We  assembled  together  outside  the  tent  before  dawn  on  the 
morning  of  the  14th,  and  started  directly  it  was  light  enough  to 
move.  Young  Peter  came  on  with  us  as  a  guide,  and  his  brother 
returned  to  Zermatt.1  We  followed  the  route  which  had  been 
taken  on  the  previous  day,  and  in  a  few  minutes  turned  the  rib 
which  had  intercepted  the  view  of  the  eastern  face  from  our  tent 
platform.  The  whole  of  this  great  slope  was  now  revealed,  rising 
for  3000  feet  like  a  huge  natural  staircase.2  Some  parts  were  more, 
and  others  were  less,  easy ;  but  we  were  not  once  brought  to  a  halt 
by  any  serious  impediment,  for  when  an  obstruction  was  met  in 
front  it  could  always  be  turned  to  the  right  or  to  the  left.  For  the 
greater  part  of  the  way  there  was,  indeed,  no  occasion  for  the  rope, 
and  sometimes  Hudson  led,  sometimes  myself.  At  6.20  we  had 
attained  a  height  of  12,800  feet,  and  halted  for  half-an-hour ;  we 
then  continued  the  ascent  without  a  break  until  9.55,  when  we 
stopped  for  fifty  minutes,  at  a  height  of  14,000  feet.  Twice  we 
struck  the  N.E.  ridge  and  followed  it  for  some  little  distance,3 — to 
no  advantage,  for  it  was  usually  more  rotten  and  steep,  and  always 
more  difficult  than  the  face.4  Still,  we  kept  near  to  it,  lest  stones 
perchance  might  fall.5 

1  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. 

2  See  pp.  272-6. 

3  For  track,  see  the  lower  of  the  outlines  facing  p.  276. 

*  See  remarks  on  aretes  and  faces  on  pp.  252-3.  There  is  very  little  to  choose 
between  in  the  aretes  leading  from  the  summit  towards  the  Hbrnli  (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  lie  traversed  !  On  the  southern 
'I'.ivuil)  side  the  ridge  alone,  generally  speaking,  can  bo  followed  ;  and  when  it  be- 
comes impracticable,  and  the  climber  is  forced  to  bear  down  to  the  right  or  to  the 
left,  the  work  is  generally  of  the  most  difficult  character. 

5  Very  few  stones  fell  during  the  two  days  I  was  on  the  mountain,  and  none  <  am. 


376  SCRAMBLES  AM* 'X'.'ST   11! I-    ALPS.  OHAP.XXL 

We  had  now  arrived  at  the  foot  of  that  part  which,  from  the 
RifTelberg  or  from  Zermatt, -seems  perpendicular  or  overhanging, 
and  could  no  longer  continue  upon  the  eastern  side.  For  a  little 
distance  we  ascended  hy  snow  upon  the  arete1 — that  is,  the  ridge 
— descending  towards  Zermatt,  and  then,  by  common  consent, 
turned  over  to  the  right,  or  to  the  northern  side.  Before  doing  so, 
we  made  a  change  in  the  order  of  ascent.  Croz  went  first,  I 
followed,  Hudson  came  third ;  Hadow  and  old  Peter  were  last. 
"Now,"  said  Croz,  as  he  led  off,  "now  for  something  altogether 
different."  The  work  became  difficult  and  required  caution.  In 
some  places  there  was  little  to  hold,  and  it  was  desirable  that 
those  should  be  in  front  who  were  least  likely  to  slip.  The 
general  slope  of  the  mountain  at  this  part  was  lea  than  40°,  and 
snow  had  accumulated  in,  and  had  filled  up,  the  interstices  of  the 
rock-face,  leaving  only  occasional  fragments  projecting  lure  and 
there.  These  were  at  times  covered  with  a  thin  film  of  ice, 
produced  from  the  melting  and  refreezing  of  the  snow.  It  was 
the  counterpart,  on  a  small  scale,  of  the  upper  700  feet  of  the 
Pointe  des  Ecrins, — only  there  was  this  material  difference;  the 
face  of  the  Ecrins  was  about,  or  exceeded,  an  angle  of  50°,  and  the 
Matterhorn  face  was  less  than  40°.2     It  was  a  place  over  which 

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  debris  that  falls  from  the 
4000  feet  of  cliffs  which  form  the  eastern  side  of  the  Matterhorn,  whilst  the  Utter  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  apj>ears, 
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. 

1  The  snow  seen  in  the  engraving  facing  p.  272,  half-an-inch  below  the  summit. 
and  a  little  to  its  right. 

■  This  part  was  less  steeply  inclined  than  the  whole  of  the  eastern  face. 


(hap.  xxi.  ARRIVAL  ON  THE  SUMMIT.  377 

any  fair  mountaineer  might  pass  in  safety,  and  Mr.  Hudson 
ascended  this  part,  and,  as  far  as  I  know,  the  entire  mountain, 
without  having  the  slightest  assistance  rendered  to  him  upon  any 
occasion.  Sometimes,  after  I  had  taken  a  hand  from  Croz,  or 
received  a  pull,  I  turned  to  offer  the  same  to  Hudson ;  but  he 
invariably  declined,  saying  it  was  not  necessary.  Mr.  Hadow, 
however,  was  not  accustomed  to  this  kind  of  work,  and  required 
continual  assistance.  It  is  only  fair  to  say  that  the  difficulty 
which  he  found  at  this  part  arose  simply  and  entirely  from  want 
of  experience. 

This  solitary  difficult  part  was  of  no  great  extent.1  We  bore 
away  over  it  at  first,  nearly  horizontally,  for  a  distance  of  about 
400  feet;  then  ascended  directly  towards  the  summit  for  about 
60  feet;  and  then  doubled  back  to  the  ridge  which  descends 
towards  Zermatt.  A  long  stride  round  a  rather  awkward  corner 
brought  us  to  snow  once  more.  The  last  doubt  vanished !  The 
Matterhorn  was  ours !  Nothing  but  200  feet  of  easy  snow  re- 
mained to  be  surmounted ! 

You  must  now  carry  your  thoughts  back  to  the  seven  Italians 
who  started  from  Breuil  on  the  11th  of  July.  Four  days  had 
passed  since  their  departure,  and  we  were  tormented  with  anxiety 
lest  they  should  arrive  on  the  top  before,  us.  All  the  way  up 
we  had  talked  of  them,  and  many  false  alarms  of  "  men  on  the 
summit "  had  been  raised.  The  higher  we  rose,  the  more  intense 
became  the  excitement.  What  if  we  should  be  beaten  at  the  last 
moment  ?  The  slope  eased  off,  at  length  we  could  be  detached, 
and  Croz  and  I,  dashing  away,  ran  a  neck-and-neck  race,  which 
ended  in  a  dead  heat.  At  1.40  p.m.  the  world  was  at  our  feet,  and 
the  Matterhorn  was  conquered.  Hurrah !  Not  a  footstep  could 
be  seen. 

It  was  not  yet  certain  that  we  had  not  been  beaten.  The 
summit  of  the  Matterhorn  was  formed  of  a  rudely  level  ridge, 

1  I  have  no  memorandum  of  the  time  that  it  occupied.     It  must  have  taken 
about  an  hour  and  a  half. 

3c 


37ft 


sr It  A  .)//:/  T   THE   ALPS. 


CHAP.  XXI. 


about  350  feet  long,1  and  the  Italians  might  have  been  at  its 
farther  extremity.  I  hastened  t<>  the  southern  end.  scanning  the 
snow  right  and  left  eagerly.  Hurrah!  again:  it  was  untrodden. 
"Where  were  the  men?"  I  peered  over  the  el  iff,  half  douhting. 
half  expectant,  and  saw  them  immediately — mere  dots  on  the  ridge. 


" CROZ !    CROZ ! !    COME   HERE ! " 


at  an  immense  distance  below.     Up  went  my  arms  and  my  hat. 

1  The  highasl  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  t  ho 
Theodule  and  from  Bn-uil  (marked  D  on  the  outline  on  p.  115).  This  notch  is  very 
coiispii nous  from  below,  but  when  one  is  actually  upon  the  summit  it  is  hardly 
noticed,  and  it  can  be  passed  without  the  least  difficulty. 


i-HAi-.  xxi.  DISCOMFITURE  <>F  THE  ITALIANS.  379 

"  Croz  !  Croz  ! !  come  here  ! "  "  Where  are  they,  Monsieur  ? " 
"  There,  don't  you  see  them,  down  there  ? "  "  Ah  !  the  coquins, 
they  are  low  down."  "  Croz,  we  must  make  those  fellows  hear  us." 
We  yelled  until  we  were  hoarse.  The  Italians  seemed  to  regard  us 
— we  could  not  be  certain.  "  Croz,  we  must  make  them  hear  us ; 
they  shall  hear  us ! "  I  seized  a  block  of  rock  and  hurled  it  down, 
and  called  upon  my  companion,  in  the  name  of  friendship,  to  do 
the  same.  We  drove  our  sticks  in,  and  prized  away  the  crags,  and 
soon  a  torrent  of  stones  poured  down  the  cliffs.  There  was  no 
mistake  about  it  this  time.     The  Italians  turned  and  fled.1 

Still,  I  would  that  the  leader  of  that  party  could  have  stood 
with  us  at  that  moment,  for  our  victorious  shouts  conveyed  to  him 
the  disappointment  of  the  ambition  of  a  lifetime.  He  was  the  man, 
of  all  those  who  attempted  the  ascent  of  the  Matterhorn,  who  most 
deserved  to  be  the  first  upon  its  summit.  He  was  the  first  to 
doubt  its  inaccessibility,  and  he  was  the  only  man  who  persisted  in 
believing  that  its  ascent  would  be  accomplished.  It  was  the  aim 
of  his  life  to  make  the  ascent  from  the  side  of  Italy,  for  the  honour 
of  his  native  valley.  For  a  time  he  had  the  game  in  his  hands : 
he  played  it  as  he  thought  best;  but  he  made  a  false  move, 
and  he  lost  it. 

The  others  had  arrived,  so  we  went  back  to  the  northern  end 
of  the  ridge.  Croz  now  took  the  tent-pole,2  and  planted  it  in  the 
highest  snow.  "  Yes,"  we  said,  "  there  is  the  flag-staff,  but  where 
is  the  flag  ? "  "  Here  it  is,"  he  answered,  pulling  off  his  blouse  and 
fixing  it  to  the  stick.  It  made  a  poor  flag,  and  there  was  no  wind 
to  float  it  out,  yet  it  was  seen  all  around.  They  saw  it  at  Zermatt 
— at  the  Eiffel — in  the  Val  Tournanche.  At  Breuil,  the  watchers 
cried,  "Victory  is  ours!"     They  raised  'bravos'  for  Carrel,  and 

1  I  learnt  afterwards  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  ami 
fifty  feet  helow  us  ;  or,  as  the  crow  flies,  at  a  distance  of  about  one-third  of  a  mile. 

8  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. 


;*so 


SCRAMBLS8  AMONGST  THE  ALPS. 


I  HAP.  Wl. 


vi\.is'  for  Italy,  and  hastened  BO  put  themselves  en  fite.     On  the 

marrow  they  were  ondeoeivedi  "All  was  ohanged;  the  explorers 
returned  sad — cast  down — disheartened—  confounded-  j^loonn ." 
•  It  is  true,"  said  tlie  men.  "  We  saw  them  ourselves — they  hurled 
stones  at  us!  The  old  traditions  an  true,—  there  are  spirits  on 
the  top  of  the  Matterhorn  ! " l 


THE   SUMMIT   OF    THE    MATTEKHOKN    IN    1865  (NORTHERN    ENI>). 


We  returned  to  the  southern  end  of  the  ridge  to  build  a  <  aim. 

1  Signor  Giordano  was  naturally  disappointed  at  the  result,  ami  wkfad  t lie  men 
to  start  again.  They  all  refused  to  do  so,  with  the  exception  of  Jant-.t  n/<  fa  .  Upofl 
the  16th  of  July  he  set  out  again  with  three  others,  and  ujwn  the  17th  gained  the 
summit  l>y  passing  (at  first)  up  the  south-west  ridge,  and  (afterwards)  hy  turning 
over  to  the  Z'AIutt,  or  north-western  side.     On  the  18th  he  returned  t"  lireuil. 

Whilst  we  were  u]ton  the  southern  and  of  the  suinniit-ridge,  we  jiaid  some  atten 
tion  to  the  portion  of  the  mountain  whieh  intervened  hetween  ourselves  and  the 


OBAP.  xxi.  A  MARVELLOUS  PANORAMA.  381 

and  then  paid  homage  to  the  view.1  The  day  was  one  of  those 
superlatively  calm  and  clear  ones  which  usually  precede  bad 
weather^  The  atmosphere  was  perfectly  still,  and  free  from  all 
clouds  or  vapours.  Mountains  fifty — nay  a  hundred — miles  oft', 
looked  sharp  and  near.  All  their  details — ridge  and  crag,  snow 
and  glacier — stood  out  with  faultless  definition.  Pleasant  thoughts 
of  happy  days  in  bygone  years  came  up  unbidden,  as  we  recognised 
the  old,  familiar  forms.  All  were  revealed — not  one  of  the  princi- 
pal peaks  of  the  Alps  was  hidden.  I  see  them  clearly  now — the 
great  inner  circles  of  giants,  backed  by  the  ranges,  chains,  and 
-massifs.  First  came  the  Dent  Blanche,  hoary  and  grand ;  the  Ga- 
belhorn  and  pointed  Eothhorn  ;  and  then  the  peerless  Weisshorn : 
the  towering  Mischabelhorner,  flanked  by  the  Allaleinhorn,  Strahl- 

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.  376  was  not  easy, 
although  its  inclination  was  moderate.  If  that  slope  were  made  only  ten  degrees 
steeper,  its  difficulty  would  be  greatly  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  any- 
thing much  more  difficult  than  that!"     See  Appendix  C. 

1  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  mica- 
schist,  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  383.) 


Ml  >'/.'.  I. U /:/./•>   AMOXUST   THE   A  LIS.  .hap.  xm. 

horn,  ami  Uimptisrhhorn  ;  then  Monte  Rosa — with  its  man) 
Spitzes — the  Lyskannn  and  (he  Breithorn.  Behind  were  tin-  Ber- 
nese Oberland,  governed  by  the  Kinstrraarhorn ;  the  Bimploo  and 
Si.  (ntthard  groups;  the  Disgrazia  and  the  Orteler.  Towards  the 
south  we  looked  down  to  Chivasso  on  the  plain  of  Piedmont,  and 
tar  beyond.  The  Viso — one  hundred  miles  away — seemed  close 
upon  us;  the  Maritime  Alps — one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  dis- 
tant— were  free  from  haze.  Then  came  my  first  love — the  Ivl- 
vonz  ;  the  Ecrins  and  the  Meije ;  the  clusters  of  the  Graians :  and 
lastly,  in  the  west,  glowing  in  full  sunlight,  rose  the  monarch  of  all 
— Mont  Blanc.  Ten  thousand  feet  beneath  us  were  the  green 
fields  of  Zermatt,  dotted  with  chalets,  from  which  blue  smoke  rose 
lazily.  Eight  thousand  feet  below,  on  the  other  side,  were  the 
pastures  of  Breuil.  There  were  forests  black  and  gloomy,  and 
meadows  bright  and  lively;  bounding  waterfalls  and  tranquil 
lakes:  fertile  lands  and  savage  wastes;  sunny  plains  and  frigid 
plateaux.  There  were  the  most  rugged  forms,  and  the  most  grace- 
ful outlines — bold,  perpendicular  cliffs,  and  gentle,  undulating 
slopes;  rocky  mountains  and  snowy  mountains,  sombre  and  solemn, 
or  glittering  and  white,  with  walls — turrets — pinnacles — pyramids 
— domes — cones — and  spires  !  There  was  every  combination  that 
the  world  can  give,  and  every  contrast  that  the  heart  could  desire. 
We  remained  on  the  summit  for  one  hour — 

"One  crowded  hour  of  glorious  life." 

It  passed  away  too  quickly,  and  we  began  to  prepare  for  the 
descent. 


THE   ACTUAL  SUMMIT   OF    THE    MATTERHORN    IN    1865. 

CHAPTEE    XXII. 

DESCENT   OF  THE   MATTERHORN.1 

Hudson  and  I  again  consulted  as  to  the  best  and  safest  arrange- 
ment of  the  party.  We  agreed  that  it  would  be  best  for  Croz  to 
go  first,2  and  Hadow  second ;  Hudson,  who  was  almost  equal  to  a 
born  mountaineer  in  sureness  of  foot,  wished  to  be  third ;  Lord 
Francis  Douglas  was  placed  next,  and  old  Peter,  the  strongest  of 
the  remainder,  after  him.  I  suggested  to  Hudson  that  we  should 
attach  a  rope  to  the  rocks  on  our  arrival  at  the  difficult  bit,  and 
hold  it  as  we  descended,  as  an  additional  protection.  He  approved 
the  idea,  but  it  was  not  definitely  settled  that  it  should  be  done. 

1  The  substance  of  Chapter  XXII.  appeared  in  a  letter  in  the  Times,  August  8, 
1865.  A  few  paragraphs  have  now  heen  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. 

8  If  the  members  of  the  j>arty  had  been  more  equally  efficient,  Croz  would  have 
been  placed  last. 


384  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  xxn. 

Tin*  party  was  being  arranged  in  the  above  order  whilst  I  was 
sketching  the  summit,  and  they  had  finished,  and  were  waiting  fox 
me  to  be  tied  in  line,  when  some  one  remembered  thai  onr  oamei 

had  not  been  left  in  a  bottle.  They  requested  me  to  write  them 
down,  and  moved  off  while  it  was  being  done. 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  I  tied  myself  to  young  Peter,  ran 
down  after  the  others,  and  caught  them  just  as  they  were  eom- 
nieneing  the  descent  of  the  difficult  part.1  Great  care  was  being 
taken.  Only  one  man  was  moving  at  a  time  :  when  he  was  firmly 
planted  the  next  advanced,  and  so  on.  They  had  not,  however, 
attached  the  additional  rope  to  rocks,  and  nothing  was  said  about 
it.  The  suggestion  was  not  made  for  my  own  sake,  and  I  am  not 
sure  that  it  even  occurred  to  me  again.  For  some  little  distance 
we  two  followed  the  others,  detached  from  them,  and  should  have 
continued  so  had  not  Lord  Francis  Douglas  asked  me,  about  3  p.m., 
to  tie  on  to  old  Peter,  as  he  feared,  he  said,  that  Taugwalder  would 
not  be  able  to  hold  his  ground  if  a  slip  occurred. 

A  few  minutes  later,  a  sharp-eyed  lad  ran  into  the  Monte  Rosa 
hotel,  to  Seiler,  saying  that  he  had  seen  an  avalanche  fall  from  the 
summit  of  the  Matterhorn  on  to  the  Matterhorngletscher.  The  boy 
was  reproved  for  telling  idle  stories ;  he  was  right,  nevertheless, 
and  this  was  what  he  saw. 

Michel  Croz  had  laid  aside  his  axe,  and  in  order  to  give  Mr. 
Hadow  greater  security,  was  absolutely  taking  hold  of  his  legs,  and 
putting  his  feet,  one  by  one,  into  their  proper  positions.2  So  far 
as  I  know,  no  one  was  actually  descending.  I  cannot  speak  with 
certainty,  because  the  two  leading  men  were  partially  hidden  from 
my  sight  by  an  intervening  mass  of  rock,  but  it  is  my  belief,  from 

1  Described  upon  pp.  376-7. 

1  Not  at  all  an  unusual  proceeding,  even  between  born  mountaineers.  I  wi>li 
to  convey  tbe  impression  that  Croz  was  using  all  pains,  rather  than  to  indicate 
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. 


chap.  xxn.  THE  MATTERHORN  ACCIDENT.  385 

tin-  movements  of  their  shoulders,  that  Croz,  having  done  as  I  have 
said,  was  in  the  act  of  turning  round,  to  go  down  a  step  or  two  him- 
self;  at  this  moment  Mr.  Hadow  slipped,  fell  against  him,  and 
knocked  him  over.  I  heard  one  startled  exclamation  from  Croz, 
then  saw  him  and  Mr.  Hadow  flying  downwards;  in  another 
moment  Hudson  was  dragged  from  his  steps,  and  Lord  F.  Douglas 
immediately  after  him.1  All  this  was  the  work  of  a  moment. 
Immediately  we  heard  Croz's  exclamation,  old  Peter  and  I  planted 
ourselves  as  firmly  as  the  rocks  would  permit : 2  the  rope  was  taut 
between  us,  and  the  jerk  came  on  us  both  as  on  one  man.  "We 
held ;  but  the  rope  broke  midway  between  Taugwalder  and  Lord 
Francis  Douglas,  For  a  few  seconds  we  saw  our  unfortunate  com- 
panions sliding  downwards  on  their  backs,  and  spreading  out  their 

1  At  the  moment  of  the  accident,  Croz,  Hadow,  and  Hudson,  were  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,  and  without  it  he  managed  to  get 
his  head  uppermost  before  he  disap]>eared  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  the  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  j>ass  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  diffi- 
cult, and  it  is  so  undoubtedly  to  most  persons  ;  but  it  must  be  distinctly  understood 
that  Mr.  Hadow  slipjied  at  a  comparatively  easy  part. 

2  Or,  more  correctly,  we  held  on  as  tightly  as  possible.  There  was  no  time  to 
change  our  position. 

3d 


186 


Hit  A  MIU  iXCIST  THE  ALPS. 


CHAP.  XXXI. 


hands,  endeavouring  to  save  themselves.  They  passed  from  our 
sight  uninjured,  disappeared  one  by  one,  and  fell  from  preeipiee 
to  precipice  on  to  the  l&toerharngletsoher  below,  a  distance  of 
nearly  4000  feet  in  height  Prom  the  moment  tin-  rope  broke 
it   was  impossible  to  help  them. 

So  perished  our  comrades!  For  the  space  of  half-an-hour  we 
remained  on  the  spot  without  moving  a  single  step.  The  two 
men,  paralysed  by  terror,  cried  like  infants,  and  trembled  iii  such 
a  manner  as  to  threaten  us  with  the  fate  of  the  others.  Old  Peter 
rent  the  air  with  exclamations  of  "Chamounix  I  Oh,  what  will 
Chamounix  say?"  He  meant,  Who  would  believe  that  Croz 
could  fall  ?     The  young  man  did  nothing  but  scream  or  sob,  "We 

are  lost!  we  are  lost!"  Fixed  be- 
tween the  two,  I  could  neither 
move  up  nor  down.  I  begged 
young  Peter  to  descend,  but  he 
dared  not.  Unless  he  did,  we  could 
not  advance.  Old  Peter  became 
alive  to  the  danger,  and  swelled 
the  cry,  "  We  are  lost !  we  are 
lost ! "  The  father's  fear  was 
natural — he  trembled  for  his  son  ; 
the  young  man's  fear  was  cow- 
ardly— he  thought  of  self  alone. 
At  last  old  Peter  summoned  up 
courage,  and  changed  his  position 
to  a  rock  to  which  he  could  fix 
the  rope;  the  young  man  then  de- 
scended, and  we  all  stood  together. 
Immediately  we  did  so,  I  asked  for  the  rope  which  had  given  way, 
and  found,  to  my  surprise — indeed,  to  my  horror — that  it  was  the 
weakest  of  the  three  ropes.  It  was  not  brought,  and  should  not 
have  l>een  employed,  for  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  used.  It 
was  old  rope,  and,  compared  with  the  others,  was  feeble.     It  was 


ROPE   BROKEN   ON   THE   MATTERIIORN. 


OHAP.  VOL  ASTONISHING  FOG-BOW.  387 

intended  as  a  reserve,  in  case  we  had  to  leave  much  rope  behind, 
attached  to  rocks.  I  saw  at  once  that  a  serious  question  was 
involved,  and  made  him  give  me  the  end.  It  had  broken  in  mid- 
air, and  it  did  not  appear  to  have  sustained  previous  injury. 

For  more  than  two  hours  afterwards  I  thought  almost  every 
moment  that  the  next  would  be  my  last;  for  the  Taugwalders, 
utterly  unnerved,  were  not  only  incapable  of  giving  assistance,  but 
were  in  such  a  state  that  a  slip  might  have  been  expected  from 
them  at  any  moment.  After  a  time,  we  were  able  to  do  that  which 
should  have  been  done  at  first,  and  fixed  rope  to  firm  rocks,  in 
addition  to  being  tied  together.  These  ropes  were  cut  from  time 
to  time,  and  were  left  behind.1  Even  with  their  assurance  the 
men  were  afraid  to  proceed,  and  several  times  old  Peter  turned  with 
ashy  face  and  faltering  limbs,  and  said,  with  terrible  emphasis,  "  / 
cannot !  " 

About  6  P.M.  we  arrived  at  the  snow  upon  the  ridge  descending 
towards  Zermatt,  and  all  peril  was  over.  We  frequently  looked, 
but  in  vain,  for  traces  of  our  unfortunate  companions;  we  bent 
over  the  ridge  and  cried  to  them,  but  no  sound  returned.  Con- 
vinced at  last  that  they  were  neither  within  sight  nor  hearing,  we 
ceased  from  our  useless  efforts ;  and,  too  cast  down  for  speech, 
silently  gathered  up  our  things,  and  the  little  effects  of  those  who 
were  lost,  preparatory  to  continuing  the  descent.  When,  lo !  a 
mighty  arch  appeared,  rising  above  the  Lyskamm,  high  into  the 
sky.  Pale,  colourless,  and  noiseless,  but  perfectly  sharp  and  de- 
fined, except  where  it  was  lost  in  the  clouds,  this  unearthly  appari- 
tion seemed  like  a  vision  from  another  world ;  and,  almost  appalled, 
we  watched  with  amazement  the  gradual  development  of  two  vast 
crosses,  one  on  either  side.  If  the  Taugwalders  had  not  been  the 
first  to  perceive  it,  I  should  have  doubted  my  senses.  They 
thought  it  had  some  connection  with  the  accident,  and  I,  after  a 
while,  that  it  might  bear  some  relation  to  ourselves.     But  our 

1  These  ends,  until  recently,  were  still  attached  to  the  rocks,  and  marked  our 
line  of  ascent  and  descent. 


188  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  ciup.xm 

movements  had  no  efleei  upon  it.  The  spectral  forma  remained 
motionless.  It  was  a  fearful  and  ironderfu]  Bight;  unique  in  my 
experience,  and  impreasive  beyond  description,  coming  at  such  u 
moment.1 

I  was  ready  to  leave,  and  waiting  for  the  others.  They  had 
recovered  their  appetites  and  the  use  of  their  tongues.  They 
spoke  in  patois,  which  I  did  not  understand.    At  length  the 

1  See  Frontispiece.  I  paid  very  little  attention  to  this  remarkable  phenomenon, 
and  was  glad  when  it  disappeared,  as  it  distracted  our  attention.  Under  ordinary 
eiieuinstames  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  Frontis- 
piece, and  that  they  were  probably  formed  by  the 
intersection  of  other  circles  or  ellipses,  as  shewn  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  tin- 
North  Pole,  4to,  1828,  there  is,  at  pp.  99-100,  an 
account  of  the  occurrence  of  a  phenomenon  analo- 
gous to  the  above-mentioned  one.  "At  half-past 
five  p.m.  we  witnessed  a  very  beautiful  natural 
phenomenon.  A  broad  white  fog-bow  tirst  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  expedi- 
tion is  noticed  in  the  note  upon  p.  381,  and  again  in  the  Appendix),  upon  .Inly  1 7th, 
1865,  the  phenomenon  commonly  termed  the  Brocken  was  observed.  The  following 
is  the  account  given  by  the  Abbe  Ame  Gorret  in  the  Feuille  d'Aoste,  October  31, 
1865  : — "  Nous  etions  sur  lYpaule  "  (the  'shoulder')  "quand  nous  remarquames  un 
phenomene  qui  nous  fit  plaisir  ;  le  nuage  ctait  tres-dense  du  eOM  de  \  altornanche, 
c'etait  serein  en  Suisse  ;  nous  nous  vimes  au  milieu  d'un  cerclc  aux  eouleurs  de  l'arc- 
en-ciel  ;  ce  mirage  nous  formait  a  tous  une  couronne  au  milieu  de  laqnelle  now 
voyions  notre  ombre."  This  occurred  at  about  6.30  to  7  p.m.,  and  the  Italians  in 
mention  were  at  about  the  same  height  as  ourselves — namely,  14,000  feet 


chap,  x  mi.  AN  INI  AM"  IS  PROPOSITION.  M9 

said  in  French,  "  Monsieur."  "  Yes."  "  We  are  poor  men  ;  we  have 
lost  our  Herr;  we  shall  not  get  paid;  we  can  ill  afford  this.''1 
"  Stop  ! "  I  said,  interrupting  him,  "  that  is  nonsense ;  I  shall  pay 
you,  of  course,  just  as  if  your  Herr  were  here."  They  talked 
together  in  their  patois  for  a  short  time,  and  then  the  son  spoke 
again.  "  We  don't  wish  you  to  pay  us.  We  wish  you  to  write  in 
the  hotel-book  at  Zermatt,  and  to  your  journals,  that  we  have  not 
been  paid."  "  What  nonsense  are  you  talking  ?  I  don't  understand 
you.  What  do  you  mean  ? "  He  proceeded — "  Why,  next  year 
there  will  be  many  travellers  at  Zermatt,  and  we  shall  get  more 
voyageurs."  2 

Who  would  answer  such  a  proposition  ?  I  made  them  no  reply 
in  words,3  but  they  knew  very  well  the  indignation  that  I  felt. 
They  filled  the  cup  of  bitterness  to  overflowing,  and  I  tore  down 
the  cliff,  madly  and  recklessly,  in  a  way  that  caused  them,  more 
than  once,  to  inquire  if  I  wished  to  kill  them.  Night  fell ;  and 
for  an  hour  the  descent  was  continued  in 
the  darkness.  At  half-past  9  a  resting- 
place  was  found,  and  upon  a  wretched 
slab,  barely  large  enough  to  hold  the  three, 
we  passed  six  miserable  hours.  At  day- 
break the  descent  was  resumed,  and  from 
the  Hornli  ridge  we  ran  down  to  the 
chalets  of  Buhl,  and  on  to  Zermatt. 
Seiler  met  me  at  his  door,  and  followed 
in  silence  to  my  room.  "What  is  the 
matter  ? "    "  The  Taugwalders  and  I  have 

.   „  ..  -  MONSIEUR   ALEX.    SEILER. 

returned.      He  did  not  need  more,  and 

burst  into  tears ;  but  lost  no  time  in  useless  lamentations,  and  set 

to  work  to  arouse  the  village.    Ere  long  a  score  of  men  had  started 

1  They  had  been  travelling  with,  and  had  been  engaged  by,  Lord  F.  Douglas, 
and  so  considered  him  their  employer,  and  responsible  to  them. 

2  Transcribed  from  the  original  memorandum. 

3  Nor  did  I  speak  to  them  afterwards,  unless  it  was  absolutely  necessary,  so 
long  as  we  were  together. 


»M  SCllAMliLES  AMONGST   THE   ALP&  (MAT   wii. 

to  ascend  tin-  Huhlicht  heights,  above  Kalbennatt  unci  X'Mutt, 
which  commanded  tbe  plateau  of  the  Matterhorngletscher.  They 
retained  after  six  hours,  and  reported  that  they  had  Been  the  Indies 
lying  motionless  on  the  snow.  This  was  on  Saturday;  and  tin  v 
proposed  that  we  should  leave  on  Sunday  evening,  so  as  to  arrive 
upon  the  plateau  at  daybreak  on  Monday.  Unwilling  to  lose  the 
slightest  chance,  the  Rev.  J.  M'Cormick  and  I  resolved  to  start  on 
Sunday  morning.  The  Zermatt  men,  threatened  with  excommuni- 
cation by  their  priests  if  they  failed  to  attend  the  early  mass,  were 
unable  to  accompany  us.  To  several  of  them,  at  least,  this  was  a 
severe  trial.  Peter  Perm  declared  with  tears  that  nothing  else 
would  have  prevented  him  from  joining  in  the  search  for  his  old 
comrades.  Englishmen  came  to  our  aid.  The  Rev.  J.  Robertson 
and  Mr.  J.  Phillpotts  offered  themselves,  and  their  guide  Franz 
Andermatten ; 1  another  Englishman  lent  us  Joseph  Marie  and 
Alexandre  Lochmatter.  Frederic  Payot,.  and  Jean  Tairraz,  of 
Chamounix,  also  volunteered. 

We  started  at  2  a.m.  on  Sunday  the  16th,  and  followed  the 
route  that  we  had  taken  on  the  previous  Thursday  as  far  as  the 
Hornli.  Thence  we  went  down  to  the  right  of  the  ridge,2  and 
mounted  through  the  sdraes  of  the  Matterhorngletscher.  By  8.30 
we  had  got  to  the  plateau  at  the  top  of  the  glacier,  and  within 
sight  of  the  corner  in  which  we  knew  my  companions  must  be.3 
As  we  saw  one  weather-beaten  man  after  another  raise  the  telescope, 
turn  deadly  pale,  and  pass  it  on  without  a  word  to  the  next,  we 
knew  that  all  hope  was  gone.  We  approached.  They  had  fallen 
below  as  they  had  fallen  above — Croz  a  little  in  advance,  Hadow 
near  him,  and  Hudson  some  distance  behind  ;  but  of  Lord  Francis 
Douglas  we  could  see  nothing.4     We  left  them  where  they  fell; 

1  A  portrait  of  Franz  Andermatten  is  given  in  the  engraving  facing  p.  248. 

*  To  the  point  marked  Z  on  the  map.  3  Marked  with  a  cross  on  the  m.i  |  >. 

*  A  pair  of  gloves,  a  belt,  and  boot  that  had  belonged  to  him  were  found.  Thi-. 
Miiurliow,  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. 


CHAP.  XXII. 


A  SERIOUS  QUESTION. 


391 


buried  in  snow  at  the  base  of  the  grandest  cliff  of  the  most 
majestic  mountain  of  the  Alps. 

All  those  who  had  fallen  had  been  tied  with  the  Manilla, 
or  with  the  second  and 
equally  strong  rope,  and, 
consequently,  there  had 
been  only  one  link — that 
between  old  Peter  and 
Lord  Francis  Douglas — 
where  the  weaker  rope 
had  been  used.  This  had 
a  very  ugly  look  for 
Taugwalder,  for  it  was 
not  possible  to  suppose 
that  the  others  would 
have  sanctioned  the  em- 
ployment of  a  rope  so 
greatly  inferior  in  strength 
when  there  were  more 
than  two  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  of  the  better 
qualities  still  remaining 
out  of  use.1  For  the 
sake  of  the  old  guide 
(who  bore  a  good  reputa- 
tion), and  upon  all  other  accounts,  it  was  desirable  that  this 
matter  should  be  cleared  up ;  and  after  my  examination  before 
the  court  of  inquiry  which  was  instituted  by  the  Government 
was  over,  I  handed  in  a  number  of  questions  which  were  framed 
so  as  to  afford  old  Peter  an  opportunity  of  exculpating  himself 


THE    MANILLA    KOFK.- 


1  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. 

2  Tbe  three  ropes  bave  been  reduced  by  photography  to  the  same  scale. 


101  S'7/.i.U /;/./•;>•  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap,  wii 

bom  the  grave  suspicions  which  at  once  fell  upon  him.  The 
«|u.--t  i<>ns.  I  was  told,  were 'put  an<l  answered:  hut  the  answers, 
although  promised,  have  never  reached  me.1 

.Mr.iiiwhile,  the  administration  sent  strict  injunctions  to  re- 
covei  the  bodies,  and  upon  the  19th  of  July,  twenty-one  men  of 
Zermatt  accomplished  that  sad  and  dangerous  task.2  Of  the 
body  of  h<»id  Francis  Douglas  they,  too,  saw  nothing;  it  was 
probably  still  arrested  on  the  rocks  above.3  The  remains  of 
Hudson  and  Hadow  were  interred  upon  the  north  side  of  the 
Zermatt  Chinch,  in  the  presence  of  a  reverent  crowd  of  sympa- 
thising friends.      The  body  of  Michel  Croz   lies  upon  the  other 

1  This  was  not  the  only  occasion  upon  which  M.  Clcmenz  (who  presided  over  the 
inquiry)  failed  to  give  up  answers  that  he  promised.  It  is  greatly  to  he  regretted 
that  he  did  not  feel  that  the  suppression  of  the  truth  was  equally  against  i  li«- 
interests  of  travellers  and  of  the  guides.  If  the  men  were  untrustworthy,  the  public 
should  have  been  warned  of  the  fact ;  but  if  they  were  blameless,  why  allow  them 
to  remain  under  unmerited  suspicion  ? 

Old  Peter  Taugwalder  laboured  for  a  long  time  under  an  unjust  accusation. 
Notwithstanding  repeated  denials,  even  his  comrades  and  neighbours  at  Zermatt 
Irresisted  in  asserting  or  insinuating  that  he  cut  the  rope  which  led  from  him  to 
Lord  Francis  Douglas.  In  regard  to  this  infamous  charge,  I  say  that  he  covhl  nt.t 
do  so  at  the  moment  of  the  slip,  and  that  the  end  of  the  rope  in  my  possession  shews 
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  thonghl 
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.  He  left 
Zermatt,  and  lived  for  several  years  in  retirement  in  the  United  States  ;  but 
ultimately  returned  to  his  native  valley,  and  died  suddenly  on  July  11,  1888,  at 
the  Lac  Noir  (Schwarzsee). 

8  They  followed  the  route  laid  down  upon  the  map,  and  on  their  descent  were 
in  great  petfl  from  the  fall  of  a  s&rac.  The  character  of  the  work  tiny  undertook 
may  be  gathered  from  a  nfinm  <•  to  p.  142. 

s  This,  or  a  subsequent,  party  discovered  a  sleeve.  No  other  traces  have  been  found. 


m£r.  xxii.  REQUIESCAT  IN  PACE.  393 

side,  under  a  simpler  tomb;  whose  inscription  bears  honourable 
testimony  to  his  rectitude,  to  his  courage,  and  to  his  devotion.1 

So  the  traditional  inacces- 
sibility of  the  Matterhorn  was 
vanquished,  and  was  replaced  by 
legends  of  a  more  real  character. 
Others  will  essay  to  scale  its 
proud  cliffs,  but  to  none  will  it 
be  the  mountain  that  it  was  to 
its  early  explorers.  Others  may 
tread  its  summit-snows,  but  none 
will  ever  know  the  feelings  of 
those  who  first  gazed  upon  its 
marvellous  panorama ;  and  none, 
I  trust,  will  ever  be  compelled  to 
tell  of  joy  turned  into  grief,  and 
of  laughter  into  mourning.  It 
proved  to  be  a  stubborn  foe;  it 
resisted  long,  and  gave  many  a 
hard  blow ;  it  was  defeated  at 
last  with  an  ease  that  none  could 
have  anticipated,  but,  like  a  re- 
lentless enemy — conquered  but 
not    crushed — it    took    terrible 

THE    SECOND    ROPE. 

vengeance.     The  time  may  come 

when  the  Matterhorn  shall  have  passed  away,  and  nothing,  save  a 
heap  of  shapeless  fragments,  will  mark  the  spot  where  the  great 
mountain  stood ;  for,  atom  by  atom,  inch  by  inch,  and  yard  by 

1  At  the  instance  of  Mr.  Alfred  (now  Mr.  Justice)  Wills,  a  subscription  list 
was  opened  for  the  benefit  of  the  sisters  of  Michel  Croz,  who  had  been  partly 
dependent  upon  his  earnings.  In  a  short  time  more  than  £280  were  raised.  Tins 
was  considered  sufficient,  and  the  list  was  closed.  The  proceeds  were  invested  in 
French  Rentes  (by  Mr.  William  Mathews),  at  the  recommendation  of  M.  Dupui,  at 
that  time  Maire  of  Chamounix. 

3  E 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  chap.  xxn. 

yard,  it  yields  to  forces  which  nothing  <;m  withstand.  Thai  time 
is  tar  distant :  ami,  ages  hence,  generations  unborn  will  gaze  apoo 
its  .iwiiil  precipices,  and  wonder  at  its  unique  form.  However 
exalted  may  In-  their  ideas,  and  however  exuberated  their 
expectations,  none  will  come  to  return  disappointed! 

The  play  is  over,  and  the  curtain  is  about  to  fall.     Before  we 
part,  a  word  upon  the  graver  teachings  of  the  mountains, 
yonder  height!     Tis  far  away — unhidden  comes  the  won!      Im- 
possible ! "     "  Not  so,"  says  the  mountaineer.     "  The  way  is  long, 
1   know;  it's  difficult — it  may  be — dangerous.     It's  possible,   I'm 

sure;  I'll  seek  the  way;  take  counsel  of  my  brother  mountai] is. 

and  find  how  they  have  gained  similar  heights,  and  learned  to 
avoid  the  dangers."  He  starts  (all  slumbering  down  below);  the 
path  is  slippery — may  be  laborious,  too.  Caution  and  pel-sever- 
ance gain  the  day — the  height  is  reached  !  and  those  beneath  cry, 
"  Incredible ;  'tis  superhuman  ! " 

"We  who  go  mountain-scrambling  have  constantly  set  before 
us  the  superiority  of  fixed  purpose  or  perseverance  to  brute  force. 
We  know  that  each  height,  each  step,  must  be  gained  by  patient, 
laborious  toil,  and  that  wishing  cannot  take  the  place  of  working; 
we  know  the  benefits  of  mutual  aid ;  that  many  a  difficulty 
must  be  encountered,  and  many  an  obstacle  must  be  grappled 
with  or  turned,  hut  we  know  that  where  there's  a  will  there's 
a  way:  and  we  come  back  to  our  daily  occupations  letter 
fitted  to  fight  the  battle  of  life,  and  to  overcome  the  impedi- 
ments which  obstruct  our  paths,  strengthened  and  cl red  by 

the  recollection  of  past  labours,  and  by  the  memories  of  victories 
gained  in  other  fields. 

I  have  not  made  myself  either  an  advocate  or  an  apologist  for 
mountaineering,  nor  do  I  now  intend  to  usurp  the  functions  of  a 
moralist :  hut  my  task  would  have  been  ill  performed  if  it  had 
been  concluded  without  one  reference  to  the  more  serious  lessons 
of  the   mountaineer.      We  glory   in   the   physical    regeneration 


chap.  xmi.  FINALE.  ■■'>:>■> 

which  is  the  product  of  our  exertions ;  pre  exult  over  the 
grandeur  of  the  scenes  that  are  brought  before  our  eyes,  the 
splendours  of  sunrise  and  sunset,  and  the  beauties  of  hill,  dale, 
lake,  wood,  and  waterfall;  but  we  value  more  highly  the  develop- 
ment of  manliness,  and  the  evolution,  under  combat  with  diffi- 
culties, of  those  noble  qualities  of  human  nature — courage, 
patience,  endurance,  and  fortitude. 

Some  hold  these  virtues  in  less  estimation,  and  assign  base  and 
contemptible  motives  to  those  who  indulge  in  our  innocent  sport. 

"Be  thou  chaste  as  ice,  as  pure  as  snow,  thou  shalt  not  escape  calumny." 

Others,  again,  who  are  not  detractors,  find  mountaineering, 
as  a  sport,  to  be  wholly  unintelligible.  It  is  not  greatly  to  be 
wondered  at — we  are  not  all  constituted  alike.  Mountaineering 
is  a  pursuit  essentially  adapted  to  the  young  or  vigorous,  and  not 
to  the  old  or  feeble.  To  the  latter,  toil  may  be  no  pleasure ;  and 
it  is  often  said  by  such  persons,  "  This  man  is  making  a  toil  of 
pleasure."  Let  the  motto  on  the  title-page  be  an  answer,  if  an 
answer  be  required.  Toil  he  must  who  goes  mountaineering ;  but 
out  of  the  toil  comes  strength  (not  merely  muscular  energy — more 
than  that),  an  awakening  of  all  the  faculties;  and  from  the 
strength  arises  pleasure.  Then,  again,  it  is  often  asked,  in  tones 
which  seem  to  imply  that  the  answer  must,  at  least,  be  doubtful, 
"  But  does  it  repay  you  ?"  Well,  we  cannot  estimate  our  enjoy- 
ment as  you  measure  your  wine,  or  weigh  your  lead, — it  is  real, 
nevertheless.  If  I  could  blot  out  every  reminiscence,  or  erase 
every  memory,  still  I  should  say  that  my  scrambles  amongst  the 
Alps  have  repaid  me,  for  they  have  given  me  two  of  the  best 
things  a  man  can  possess — health  and  friends. 

The  recollections  of  past  pleasures  cannot  be  effaced.  Even 
now  as  I  write  they  crowd  up  before  me.  First  comes  an  endless 
series  of  pictures,  magnificent  in  form,  effect,  and  colour.  I  see  the 
great  peaks,  with  clouded  tope,  seeming  to  mount  up  for  ever  and 
ever;  I  hear  the  music  of  the  distant  herds,  the  peasant's  jodel, 


886 


St'ltAMISLKS  AMONGST  THE  A  US. 


CHAP.  Wll. 


and  the  solemn  church-liells ;  and  I  scent  the  fragrant  breath  «>t 
the  pines:  and  after  these 'have  passed  away,  another  train  <>f 
thoughts  succeeds — of  those  who  have  been  upright,  brave,  and 
true:  of  kind  hearts  and  bold  deeds:  and  of  courtesies  received 
at  stranger  hands,  trifles  in  themselves,  but  expressive  of  that 
good  will  towards  men  which  is  the  essence  of  charity. 

Still,  the  last,  sad  memory  hovers  round,  and  sometimes  drifts 
across  like  floating  mist,  cutting  off  sunshine,  and  chilling  the 
remembrance  of  happier  times.  There  have  been  joys  too  great  to 
be  described  in  words,  and  there  have  been  griefs  upon  which  I 
have  not  dared  to  dwell;  and  with  these  in  mind  I  say,  Climb  if 
you  will,  but  remember  that  courage  and  strength  are  nought 
without  prudence,  and  that  a  momentary  negligence  may  destroy 
the  happiness  of  a  lifetime.  Do  nothing  in  haste ;  look  well  to 
each  step ;  and  from  the  beginning  think  what  may  be  the  end. 


APPENDIX. 


mti:m>i\.  THE  DEATH  OF  BENNEN.  3M 


A.     The  Death  op  Bknnkn.1 

On  February  28,  1864,  Mr.  P.  C.  Gosset  and  Mr.  B started  from 

tlio  village  «»f  Anion  (about  mid-way  between  Sion  and  .Martigny),  to  make 
the  ascent  of  the  Haut-de-Cry  (9688  feet),  with  tin-  guides  J.  J.  Nance, 
F.  Rebot,  A.  Bevanl,  and  J.  J.  Bennen.  They  arrived  within  a  few  hundred 
feet  of  the  summit  before  mid-day,  and  determined  to  complete  the  ascent 
by  following  the  crest  of  a  ridge  leading  towards  the  east  Before  this  could 
be  done  it  was  necessary  to  cross  some  steep  snow  ;  and,  while  passing  this, 

an  avalanche  was  unfortunately  started.     Bennen  and  Mr.  B perished  ; 

the  others  happily  escaped.  The  following  narrative,  from  the  pen  of  Mr. 
Gosset,  illustrates,  in  a  very  impressive  manner,  the  danger  of  traversing 
new-fallen  snow  at  considerable  inclinations : — 

"  We  had  to  go  up  a  steep  snow-field,  about  800  feet  high,  as  well 
as  I  remember.  It  was  about  150  feet  broad  at  the  top,  and  400  or 
500  at  the  bottom.  It  was  a  sort  of  couloir  on  a  large  scale.  During 
the  ascent  we  sank  about  one  foot  deep  at  every  step.  Bennen  did 
not  seem  to  like  the  look  of  the  snow  very  much.  He  asked  the  local 
guides  whether  avalanches  ever  came  down  this  couloir,  to  which  they 
answered  that  our  position  was  perfectly  safe.  We  had  mounted  on  the 
northern  side  of  the  couloir,  and  having  arrived  at  150  feet  from  the  top,  we 
liegan  crossing  it  on  a  horizontal  curve,  so  as  to  gain  the  E.  arete.  The  in- 
lltxion  or  dip  of  the  couloir  was  slight,  not  above  25  feet,  the  inclination 
near  35°.  We  were  walking  in  the  following  order  : — Bevard,  Nance,  Ben- 
nen, myself,  B.,  and  Rebot  Having  crossed  over  about  three-quarters  of  the 
1  uva<  1th  of  the  couloir,  the  two  leading  men  suddenly  sank  considerably  above 
their  waists.  Bennen  tightened  the  rope.  The  snow  was  too  deep  to  think 
of  getting  out  of  the  hole  they  had  made,  so  they  advanced  one  or  two 
steps,  dividing  the  snow  with  their  bodies.  Bennen  turned  round  and  told 
us  he  was  afraid  of  starting  an  avalanche  ;  we  asked  whether  it  would  not  be 
better  to  return  and  cross  the  couloir  higher  up.  To  this  the  three  Ardon 
men  opposed  themselves  ;  they  mistook  the  proposed  precaution  for  fear,  and 
the  two  leading  men  continued  their  work.  After  three  or  four  steps  gained 
in  the  aforesaid  manner,  the  snow  became  hard  again.  Bennen  had  not 
moved — he  was  evidently  undecided  what  he  should  do  ;  as  soon,  however, 
as  he  saw  hard  snow  again,  he  advanced  and  crossed  parallel  to,  but  above, 
the  furrow  the  Ardon  men  had  made.  Strange  to  say,  the  snow  supported 
him.  While  he  was  passing  I  observed  that  the  leader,  Bevard,  had  ten  or 
twelve  feet  of  rope  coiled  round  his  shoulder.  I  of  course  at  once  told  him 
to  uncoil  it  ami  get  on  the  arete,  from  which  he  was  not  more  than  fifteen 
feel  distant  Bennen  then  told  me  to  follow.  I  tried  his  steps,  bat  sink  up 
to  my  waist  in  the  very  first  So  I  went  through  the  furrows,  holding  my 
elbbwfl  close  to  my  body,  so  as  not  to  touch  the  sides.  This  furrow  was  about 
twelve  feet  long,  and  as  the  snow  was  good  on  the  other  side,  we  had  all  oome 
to  the  false  conclusion  that  tin-  snow  was  accidentally  softer  there  than  else- 

1  See  p.  78. 


400  >'7,'. I. MliLKS  AM  THE   A  LIS.  appkm.iv 

when'.      I'-cnncn  .k1v.ui.cm1  ;   he  had   made  but   I   liw  steps  when  we  heard  I 

deep,  cutting  wand.  The  now-field  -—  j » 1  i t  in  two  about  foarteen  or  fifteen 
feet  above  na  Tin*  elefl  was  at  first  quite  narrow,  not  more  than  an  inch 
broad.  An  awful  silence  ensued  :  it  lasted  but  a  few  seconds,  and  then  it 
was  broken  by  Bennenfi  voice,  'We  are  all  lost.'     His  words  were  slow  and 

solemn,  and  those  who  knew  him  I'elt  what  they  really  meant  when  spoken 
by  such  a  man  at  l'eiinen.  They  were  his  last  words.  I  drove  my  alpen- 
stock into  the  snow,  and  brought  tlie  weight  of  my  body  to  bear  on  it.  I 
then  waited.  It  was  an  awful  moment  of  suspense.  I  turned  mv  head  to- 
wards I'.cniien  to  see  whether  he  had  done  the  sune  thing.  To  my  astonish- 
nieiit  I  saw  him  turn  round,  faee  the  valley,  and  stretch  out  both  arms. 
The  snow  on  which  we  stood  began  to  move  slowly,  and  I  Celt  the  utter  u-e- 
lessness  of  any  alpenstock.  I  soon  sank  up  to  my  shoulders,  and  began 
descending  backwards.  From  this  moment  1  saw  nothing  of  what  had  hap- 
pened to  the  rest  of  the  party.  With  a  good  deal  of  trouble  I  succeeded  in 
turning  round.  The  speed  of  the  avalanche  increased  rapidly,  and  before 
long  I  was  covered  up  with  snow.  I  was  suffocating  when  I  suddenly  came 
to  the  surface  again.  I  was  on  a  wave  of  the  avalanche,  and  siw  it  before  me 
as  I  was  carried  down.  It  was  the  most  awful  sight  I  ever  saw.  The  head 
of  the  avalanche  was  already  at  the  spot  where  we  had  made  our  last  halt. 
The  head  alone  was  preceded  by  a  thick  cloud  of  snow -dust ;  the  rest  of  the 
avalanche  was  clear.  Around  me  I  heard  the  horrid  hissing  of  the  snow,  and 
far  before  me  the  thundering  of  the  foremost  part  of  the  avalanche.  To  pic- 
vent  myself  sinking  again,  I  made  use  of  my  arms  much  in  the  same  way  as 
when  swimming  in  a  standing  position.  At  last  I  noticed  that  I  was  moving 
slower ;  then  I  saw  the  pieces  of  snow  in  front  of  me  stop  at  some  yards1 
distance  ;  then  the  snow  straight  before  me  stopped,  and  I  heard  on  a  large 
scale  the  same  creaking  sound  that  is  produced  when  a  heavy  cart  passes  over 
frozen  snow  in  winter.  I  felt  that  I  also  had  stopped,  and  instantly  threw  up 
both  arms  to  protect  my  head  in  case  I  should  again  be  covered  up.  I  had 
stop]>ed,  but  the  snow  behind  me  was  still  in  motion  ;  its  pressure  on  mv 
body  was  so  strong,  that  I  thought  I  should  be  crushed  to  death.  This 
tremendous  pressure  lasted  but  a  short  time  ;  I  was  covered  np  by  snow 
coming  from  behind  me.  My  first  impulse  was  to  try  and  uncover  my  head 
— but  this  I  could  not  do,  the  avalanche  had  frozen  by  pressure  the  moment 
it  8topj>ed,  and  I  was  frozen  in.  Whilst  trying  vainly  to  move  my  arms,  1 
suddenly  became  aware  that  the  hands  as  far  as  the  wrist  had  the  f;n  ult\  of 
motion.  The  conclusion  was  easy,  they  must  be  above  the  snow.  I  set  to 
work  as  well  as  I  could  ;  it  was  time,  for  I  could  not  have  held  out  much 
longer.  At  last  I  saw  a  faint  glimmer  of  light  The  crust  above  mv  head 
was  getting  thinner,  but  I  could  not  reach  it  any  more  with  my  hands  ;  the 
idea  struck  me  that  I  might  pierce  it  with  my  breath.  After  several  efforts 
I  succeeded  in  doing  so,  and  felt  suddenly  a  rush  of  air  towards  mv  mouth. 
I  saw  the  sky  again  through  a  little  round  hole.  A  dead  silence  reigned 
around  me  ;  I  was  so  surprised  to  be  still  alive,  and  so  persuaded  at  tin  Brat 
moment  that  none  of  my  fellow-sufferers  had  survived,  that  1  did  not  even 
think  of  shouting  for  them.      I  then  made  vain  efforts  to  extricate  my  arm-. 


aimkndix.  STRUCK  BY  LIGHTNING  ON  THE  MATTERHORN    401 

but  found  it  impossible  ;  the  most  I  could  do  was  to  join  the  ends  of  my 
fingers,  but  they  could  not  reach  tbe  snow  any  longer.  After  a  few  minutes 
I  heard  a  man  shouting  ;  what  a  relief  it  was  to  know  that  I  was  not  the  sole 
survivor!  to  know  that  perhaps  he  was  not  frozen  in  and  could  come  to  my 
assistance  !  I  answered  ;  the  voice  approached,  but  seemed  uncertain  where 
to  go,  and  yet  it  was  now  quite  near.  A  sudden  exclamation  of  surprise  ! 
Rebot  had  seen  my  hands.  He  cleared  my  head  in  an  instant,  and  was  about 
to  try  and  cut  me  out  completely,  when  I  saw  a  foot  above  the  snow,  and  so 
near  to  me  that  I  could  touch  it  with  my  arms,  although  they  were  not  quite 
free  yet  I  at  once  tried  to  move  the  foot ;  it  was  my  poor  friend's.  A 
pang  of  agony  shot  through  me  as  I  saw  that  the  foot  did  not  move.  Poor 
B.  had  lost  sensation,  and  was  perhaps  already  dead.  Rebot  did  his  best : 
after  some  time  he  wished  me  to  help  him,  so  he  freed  my  arms  a  little  more 
so  that  I  could  make  use  of  them.  I  could  do  but  little,  for  Rebot  had  torn 
the  axe  from  my  shoulder  as  soon  as  he  had  cleared  my  head  (I  generally 
carry  an  axe  separate  from  my  alpenstock — the  blade  tied  to  the  belt,  and  the 
handle  attached  to  the  left  shoulder).  Before  coming  to  me  Rebot  had  helped 
Nance  out  of  the  snow  ;  he  was  lying  nearly  horizontally,  and  was  not  much 
covered  over.  Nance  found  Bevard,  who  was  upright  in  the  snow,  but 
covered  up  to  the  head.  After  about  twenty  minutes  the  two  last-named 
guides  came  up.  I  was  at  length  taken  out ;  the  snow  had  to  be  cut  with  the 
axe  down  to  my  feet  before  I  could  be  pulled  out.  A  few  minutes  after  one 
o'clock  P.M.  we  came  to  my  poor  friend's  face.  ...  I  wished  the  body  to 
be  taken  out  completely,  but  nothing  could  induce  the  three  guides  to  work 
any  longer,  from  the  moment  they  saw  that  it  was  too  late  to  save  him.  I 
acknowledge  that  they  were  nearly  as  incapable  of  doing  anything  as  I  was. 
When  I  was  taken  out  of  the  snow  the  cord  had  to  be  cut  We  tried  the 
end  going  towards  Bennen,  but  could  not  move  it ;  it  went  nearly  straight 
down,  and  showed  us  that  there  was  the  grave  of  the  bravest  guide  the 
Valais  ever  had,  and  ever  will  have.  The  cold  had  done  its  work  on  us  ; 
we  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  began  the  descent." 

B.     Struck  by  Lightning  upon  the  Matterhorn.1 

[Mr.  R.  B.  Heathcote,  of  Chingford,  Essex,  whilst  attempting  to  ascend  the 
Matterhorn  by  the  southern  route,  was  unfortunately  used  as  a  lightning- 
conductor,  when  he  was  within  500  feet  of  the  summit  of  the  mountain.  It 
may  be  observed  that  the  Matterhorn  (like  all  isolated  Alpine  rock  summits) 
is  frequently  struck  by  lightning.  Signor  Giordano  has  pointed  out  else- 
where that  he  found  numerous  traces  of  electric  discharges  upon  the  top  of 
the  mountain.]  2 

"On  July  30,  1869,  in  company  with  Peter  Perm,  Peter  Taugwalder 
junior,  and  Jos.  Maquignaz,  I  commenced  the  ascent.  The  atmosphere  was 
clear,  and  the  wind  southerly.  When  very  near  to  the  summit  an  extremely 
loud  thunder-clap  was  heard,  and  we  thought  it  prudent  to  descend.  We 
ci  iinmenced  the  descent  in  the  following  order  : — Taugwalder  first,  myself  next, 

1  See  p.  162.  2  Malte-Brun's  Annate  des  Voyages,  April  1869. 

3  F 


402  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALP*.  ahtnlix. 

then  Perm,  and  Maquignaz  last.  On  approaching  the  ('"1  de  Keliriie  '  I  re- 
<  «i\,d  a  sharp,  stinging  blow  00  the  leg,  and  thought,  at  Silt,  tliat.  a  stone  had 
been  dislodged  ;  but  a  loud  thunderclap  at  ODOC  t  <  >1«  1  DM  what  it  was.  Fan 
also  said  that  he  had  been  hit  on  the  leg.  In  a  few  moments  I  received  ■  bit 
OB  the  right  arm,  winch  seemed  to  run  along  it,  and  resembled  a  shock  from 
a  galvanic  battery.  At  the  same  time  all  the  nun  gave  a  startled  shriek,  and 
exclaimed  that  they  were  hit  by  lightning.  The  ■tonn  continued  near  oi  fof 
some  little  time,  and  than  gradually  died  away.  On  arriving  at  the  edbam 
I  found  that  Perm  had  a  long  sore  on  his  aim  ;  next  morning  his  L 
much  swollen  and  very  weak.  We  descended  to  Breuil  on  the  following  day, 
and  crossed  to  Zermatt.  The  same  day  my  hand  began  to  swell,  and  it 
continued  very  weak  for  about  a  week.  Maquignaz's  neck  was  much  swollen 
on  each  side  ;  the  lightning  hitting  him  (according  to  his  account)  on  the  back, 
and  upon  each  side  of  the  neck.  Taugwalder's  leg  was  also  slightly  swollen. 
The  thunder  was  tremendous — louder  than  I  have  ever  heard  it  before.  .There 
was  no  wind,  nor  rain,  and  everything  was  in  a  miafc* 


C.     Subsequent  History  of  the  Matterhork.2 

The  Val  Toumanche  natives  who  started  to  facilitate  the  way  up  the  south- 
west ridge  of  the  Matterhom  for  MM.  Giordano  and  Sella,  pitched  their 
tent  upon  my  third  platform,  at  the  foot  of  the  Great  Tower  (12,992 
feet),  and  enjoyed  several  days  of  bad  weather  under  ita  shelter.  On  the 
first  fine  day  (13th  of  July)  they  began  their  work,  and  about  mid  day  on  the 
14th  got  on  to  the  'shoulder,'  and  arrived  at  the  base  of  the  final  peak  (the 
point  where  Bennen  stopped  on  July  28,  1862).  The  counsels  of  the  party 
were  then  divided.  Two — Jean-Antoine  Carrel  and  J.-Joseph  Maquignaz — 
wished  to  go  on  ;  the  others  were  not  eager  about  it.  A  discussion  took 
place,  and  the  result  was  they  all  commenced  to  descend,  and  whilst  upon  the 
'cravate'  (13,524)  they  heard  our  cries  from  the  summit/1  Upon  the  15th 
they  went  down  to  Breuil  and  reported  their  ill-success  to  M.  Giordano  (see  p. 
380).  That  gentleman  was  naturally  much  disappointed,  and  preeeed  the 
men  to  set  out  again.4  Said  he,  "  Until  now  I  have  striven  for  the  honour 
of  making  the  first  ascent, — fate  has  decided  against  me, — I  am  beaten. 
Patience  !  Now,  if  I  go  to  any  further  expense,  it  will  be  on  your  account, 
for  your  honour,  and  for  your  interests.  Will  you  start  again  to  settle  the 
question,  or,  at  least,  to  let  there  be  no  more  uncertainty?"  The  majority  of 
the  men  (in  fact  the  whole  of  them  with  the  exception  of  Jean-Antoine) 
refused  point-blank  to  have  anything  more  to  do  with  the  mountain.  Carrel, 
however,  stepped  forward,  saying,  "As  for  me,  I  have  not' given  it   up  ;  if 

1  A  place  on  the  final  peak,  about  half-way  between  the  'Shoulder'  and  the  summit. 

8  We  resume  here  the  account  of  the  proceedings  of  the  Italians  who  started  fpuii 
Breuil  on  the  11th  of  July  1865.     See  p.  367. 

8  The  foregoing  particulars  were  related  to  dm  by  J.-A.  Carrel. 

*  The  following  details  are  taken  from  the  account  of  the  AM"  Am.  Qonret  (pub- 
lMnd  in  the  Feuille  (F Aonte,  Oct.  1865),  who  was  at  Breuil  when  the  men  returned. 


aiti:m.ix.   SUBSEQUENT  HISTORY'  OF  THE  MATTEUHuliS.       403 

you  (turning  to  the  Abbe  Gorret)  or  the  others  will  come,  I  will  start  again 
immediately.*  "Not  I!"  said  one.  "No  more  for  me,"  cried  a  second. 
••  [f  vim  would  give  me  a  thousand  fnnea  I  would  not  go  back," said  a  third. 
The  Abbe  Gorret  alone  volunteered.  This  plucky  priest  was  concerned  in 
the  very  first  attempts  upon  the  mountain,1  and  is  an  enthusiastic  mount - 
uneer.  Carrel  and  the  Abbe  would  have  set  out  by  themselves  had  not 
J.  B.  Bich  and  J.-A.  Meynet  (two  men  in  the  employ  of  Faviv  the  innkeeper) 
come  forward  at  the  last  moment.  M.  Giordano  also  wished  to  accompany 
them,  but  the  men  knew  the  nature  of  the  work  they  had  to  undertake,  and 
positively  declined  to  be  accompanied  by  an  amateur. 

These  four  men  left  Breuil  at  6.30  A.M.  on  July  16,  at  1  P.M.  arrived  at 
'he  third  tent-platform,  and  there  passed  the  night.  At  daybreak  on  the 
17th  tluv  continued  the  ascent  by  the  route  which  had  been  taken  before  ; 
passed  successively  the  Great  Tower,  the  '  crete  du  coq,'  the  '  cravate,'  and 
the  'shoulder,'2  and  at  10  a.m.  gained  the  point  at  the  foot  of  the  final 
peak  from  which  the  explorers  had  turned  back  on  the  14th.3  They  had 
then  about  800  feet  to  accomplish,  and,  says  the  Abb£,  "  nous  allions  entrer 
en  pays  inconnu,  aucun  n'etant  jamais  all^  aussi  loin." 

The  passage  of  the  cleft  which  stopped  Bennen  was  accomplished,  and 
then  the  party  proceeded  directly  towards  the  summit,  over  rocks  which  for 
some  distance  were  not  particularly  difficult.  The  steep  cliffs  down  which 
we  had  hurled  stones  (on  the  14th)  then  stopped  their  way,  and  Carrel  led 
round  to  the  left  or  Z'Mutt  side.  The  work  at  this  part  was  of  the  very 
greatest  difficulty,  and  stones  and  icicles  which  fell  rendered  the  position  of 
the  party  very  precarious;4  so  much  so  that  they  preferred  to  turn  up 
directly  towards  the  summit,  and  climb  by  rocks  that  the  Abbe  termed 
"  almost  perpendicular."  He  added,  "  This  part  occupied  the  most  time,  and 
gave  us  the  greatest  trouble."  At  length  they  arrived  at  a  fault  in  the  rocks 
which  formed  a  roughly  horizontal  gallery.  They  crept  along  this  in  the 
direction  of  a  ridge  that  descended  towards  the  north-west,  or  thereabouts, 
and  when  close  to  the  ridge,  found  that  they  could  not  climb  on  to  it ;  but 
they  perceived  tliat,  by  descending  a  gully  with  perpendicular  sides,  they 
could  reach  the  ridge  at  a  lower  point  The  bold  Abbe  was  the  heaviest  and 
the  strongest  of  the  four,  and  he  was  sacrificed  for  the  success  of  the  expedi- 
tion. He  and  Meynet  remained  behind,  and  lowered  the  others,  one  by  one, 
into  the  gully.  Carrel  and  Bich  clambered  up  the  other  side,  attained  the 
ridge  descending  towards  the  north-west,  shortly  afterwards  gained  an  "  easy 

1  See  Appendix  D,  attempt  No.  1. 

'-  These  terms,  as  well  as  the  others,  Great  Staircase,  Col  du  Lion,  Tete  du  Lion, 
Chimney,  aud  so  forth,  were  applied  by  Carrel  and  myself  to  the  various  points,  in  con- 
sequence of  real  or  supposed  resemblances  in  the  rocks  to  other  things.  A  few  of  the 
terms  originated  with  the  author,  but  they  were  chiefly  due  to  the  inventive  genius  of 
J.-A.  Carrel. 

s  This  point  is  marked  by  the  red  letter  E  upon  the  lower  of  the  two  outlines 
facing  p.  71. 

4  I  have  seen  icicles  more  than  a  hundred  feet  long  hanging  from  the  rocks  near 
the  summit  of  the  Matterhorn. 


404 


srHAMlil  >X(!ST  THE  A  LI'S. 


APPENDIX. 


J.    B.    BICH,    IN    1892. 


route,1  they  galloped,"  and  in  a  few  minutea  retched  the  southern  end  of 
the  maunit-ridge. 

The  time  of  their  arrival  does  not  appear  t<.  have  been  noticed.  It  was 
late  in  the  day,  I  believe  about  3  p.m.  Carre]  and  bit  comtade  only  waited 
long  enough  to  plant  a  flag  by  the  ride  of  the  Gain  thai  are  had  built  thxee 

days  previously,  then  descended  at  once, 
rejoined  the  others,  and  all  four  hurried 
down  as  fast  as  possible  to  the  tent  They 
were  so  pressed  for  time  that  they  could 
not  eat!  and  it  was  9  p.m.  before  they 
arrived  at  their  camp  at  the  foot  of  the 
Great  Tower.  In  descending  they  followed 
the  gallery  above  mentioned  throughout  its 
entile  length,  and  so  avoided  the  very  diffi- 
cult rocks  over  which  they  had  passed  on 
the  ascent.  As  they  were  traversing  the 
length  of  the  '  shoulder '  they  witnessed 
the  phenomenon  to  which  I  have  already 
adverted  at  the  foot  of  p.   388. 

When  Carrel  and  Bich  were  near  the 
summit  they  saw  our  traces  upon  the 
Matterhorngletscher,  and  suspected  that  an 
accident  had  occurred  ;  they  did  not,  how- 
ever, hear  of  the  Matterhorn  catastrophe  until  their  return  to  Breuil,  at  3  P.M. 
upon  the  18th.  The  details  of  that  sad  event  were  in  the  mouths  of  all,  and  it 
was  not  unnaturally  supposed,  in  the  absence  of  correct  information,  that  the 
accident  was  a  proof  that  the  northern  side  was  frightfully  dangerous.  The 
safe  return  of  the  four  Italians  was  regarded,  on  the  other  hand,  as  evidence  t  hat 
the  Breuil  route  was  the  best.  Those  who  were  interested  (either  personally 
or  otherwise)  in  the  Val  Tournanche  made  the  most  of  the  circumstances, 
and  trumpeted  the  praises  of  the  southern  route.  Some  went  farther,  and 
instituted  comparisons  between  the  two  routes  to  the  disadvantage  of  the 
northern  one,  and  were  pleased  to  term  our  expedition  on  the  13-1 4th  of 
July  precipitate,  and  so  forth.  Considering  the  circumstances  which  caused 
us  to  leave  the  Val  Toutnaaohe  on  the  12th  of  July,  these  remark.-  were 
not  in  the  best  possible  taste,  but  I  have  no  feeling  regarding  them. 
There  may  be  some,  however,  who  may  be  interested  in  a  comparieoo 
of  the  two  routes,  and  for  their  sakes  I  will  place  the  essential  points  in 
juxtaposition.  We  (that  is  the  Taugwalders  and  myself)  were  absent  from 
Zerniatt  53  hours.  Excluding  halts  and  stoppages  of  one  sort  or  another,  the 
ascent  and  descent  occupied  us  23  hours.  Zermatt  is  5315  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea,  and  the  Matterhorn  is  14,780  ;  we  had  therefore  to  ascend 
9465  feet.  As  far  as  the  point  marked  10,820  feet  the  way  was  known,  so 
we  had  to  find  the  way  over  only  3960  feet.  The  members  of  our  party  (I 
now  include  all)  were  very  unequal  in  ability,  and  none  of  us  could  foe  a 
moment  be  compared  as  cragsmen  with   Jean-Antoine   Carrel.     The   four 

1  The  word*  of  the  AbW.     I  imagine  that  he  meant  comparatively  easy. 


aitkm-ix.        FIRST  ASCENT  ON  THE  ITALIAN  SIDE. 


405 


Italians  who  started  from  Breuil  on  the  16th  of  July  were  absent  during  56£ 
hours,  and  as  far  as  I  can  gather  from  the  published  a< vomit,  and  Bran  con- 
versation with  the  men,  excluding  halts,  tluv  took  for  the  ascent  and  descent 
23 1  hours.  The  hotel  at  Gioment  is  6890  feet  above  the  sea,  so  they  had  to 
ascend  7890  feet.  As  far  as  the  end  of  the  'shoulder'  the  way  WM  known 
to  Carrel,  and  he  had  to  find  the  way  over  only  about  800  feet  All  four 
men  were  born  mountaineers,  good  climbers,  and  they  were  led  by  the  most 
expert  cragsman  I  have  seen.  The  weather  in  each  instance  was  fine.  It  is 
seen,  therefore,  that  these  four  nearly  equally  matched  men  took  a  longer 
tune  to  ascend  1500  feet  less  height  than  ourselves,  although  we  had  to  find 
the  way  over  more  than  four  times  as  much  untrodden  ground  as  they.  This 
alone  would  lead  any  mountaineer  to  suppose  that  their  route  must  have  been 
more  difficult  than  ours.1  I  know  the  greater  part  of  the  ground  over  which 
they  passed,  and  from  my  know- 
ledge, and  from  the  account  of 
.Mr.  Grove,  I  am  sure  that  their 
route  was  not  only  more  difficult, 
but  that  it  was  much  more 
difficult,  than  ours. 

This  was  not  the  opinion  in 
the  Val  Tournanche  at  the  end 
of  1865,  and  the  natives  con- 
fidently reckoned  that  tourists 
would  flock  to  their  side  in 
preference  to  the  other.  It  was, 
I  believe,  the  late  Canon  Carrel 
of  Aosta  (who  always  took  great 
interest  in  such  matters)  who 
first  proposed  the  construction  of 
a  cabane  upon  the  southern  side 
of  the  Matterhorn.  The  project 
was  taken  up  with  spirit,  and 
funds  for  its  execution  were  speedily  provided — principally  by  the  members 
of  the  Italian  Alpine  Club,  or  by  their  friends.  The  indefatigable  Carrel 
found  a  natural  hole  upon  the  ledge  called  the  '  cravate '  (13,524),  and  this,  in 
course  of  time,  was  turned,  under  his  direction,  into  a  respectable  little  hut. 
Its  position  is  superb,  and  gives  a  view  of  the  most  magnificeBt  character. 

Whilst  this  work  was  being  carried  out,  niv  friend  Mr.  F.  Craufurd  Grove 
consulted  me  respecting  the  ascent  of  the  Matterhorn.  I  recommended  him 
to  ascend  by  the  northern  route,  and  to  place  himself  in  the  hands  of  Jean- 
Antoine  Canvl.  Mr.  Grove  found,  however,  that  Carrel  distinctly  preferred 
the  southern  side,  and  they  ascended  accordingly  by  the  Breuil  route.  Mr. 
Grove  has  been  good  enough  to  supply  the  following  account  of  his  ex- 
pedition. He  carries  on  my  description  of  the  southern  route  from  tin- 
highest  point  I  attained  on  that  side  (a  little  below  the  'cravate')  to  the 
summit,  and  thus  renders  complete  my  descriptions  of  the  two  sid« ■>. 

1  The  pace  of  a  party  is  ruled  by  that  of  its  least  efficient  member. 


THE   LATE 


£L,    OF    AOSTA. 


406  sritAMiiLKS  AMONGST  THE  ALPS,  tppmmz. 

••  In  August  1867  I  ascended  1 1 1  *  -  Ifatterhorn  I'i.hu  I'.ivuil,  taking  as 
guides  three  mmnilaliwfiTi  of  the  Valtoaraanche  .i.-.\.  Caoel,  J.  Etieh,  and 
s.  Moyin-t,  Carrel  being  tin-  leader.  At  that  time  the  ICatterhora  had  not 
bean  waled  rinee  the  famous  expedition  of  the  Italian  guide-  iwutkmftd 
above. 

"Our  route  was  identical  with  that  which  they  followed  in  their  deeeeoi 
when,  at  will  be  teen, they  ■track  out  on  one  pari  of  the  mountain  a  differeni 
Una  from  that  which  the j  had  taken  inaacending.     Alter  g^ni"g  the  Cd 

dii  Linn,  we  climbed  the  south-western  or  Hivuil  a  rite  by  the  route  which  has 
1m.ii  described  in  these  pages,  {Kissing  the  night  at  the  then  unfinished  hut 
constructed  by  the  Italian  Alpine  Club  on  the  '  cravatc'  Starting  from  the 
hut  at  daylight,  we  reached  at  an  early  hour  the  summit  of  the  'shoulder,' 
and  then  traversed  its  arite  to  the  final  peak  of  the  ICatterhorn.  The  passage 
of  this  iir-'ti  was  perhaps  the  most  enjoyable  part  of  the  whole  expedition. 
The  ridge,  worn  by  dow  irregular  decay  into  monstrous  and  rugged  battle- 
ii i. -ut-,  and  guarded  on  each  side  by  tremendous  precipices,  is  grand  beyond 
all  description,  but  does  not,  strange  to  say,  present  any  remarkable  difficulty 
to  the  climber,  save  that  it  is  exceedingly  trying  to  the  head.  Great  can  i- 
of  com  ly,  but  the  scramble  is  by  no  means  of  so  arduous  a  nature 

as  entirely  to  absorb  the  attention;  so  that  a  fine  climb,  and  rock  ■canary, 
of  grandeur  perhaps  unparalleled  in  the  Alps,  can  both  be  appreciated. 

'•  It  was  near  the  end  of  this  arite,  close  to  the  place  where  it  abuts  against 
the  final  peak,  that  Professor  Tyndall's  party  turned  in  1862,1  arrested  by  a 
deft  in  the  ridge  From  the  point  where  they  stopped  the  main  tower  of  the 
Matterhorn  rises  in  front  of  the  climber,  abrupt,  magnificent,  and  apparently 
inaccessible.  The  summit  is  fully  750  feet  in  vertical  height  above  this 
spot,  and  certainly,  to  my  eye,  appeared  to  be  separated  from  me  by  a  yet 
more  considerable  interval  ;  for  I  remember,  when  at  the  end  of  the  arite, 
looking  upward  at  the  crest  of  the  mountain,  and  thinking  that  it  must  be 
a  good    1000  feet  above  me. 

"  When  the  Italian  guides  made  their  splendid  ascent,  they  traversed  the 
arite  of  the  shoulder  to  the  main  peak,  passed  the  cleft  which  lias  been  men- 
tioned (p.  121),  clambered  on  to  the  tremendous  north-western  face  of  the 
mountain  (described  by  Mr.  Whymper  at  pp.  376  and  381),  and  then  en- 
deavoured to  cross  this  face  so  as  to  get  on  to  tbe  Z'Mutt  arite.2  The  passage 
of  this  slope  proved  a  work  of  great  difficulty  and  danger.  I  saw  it  from  \ vi  v 
near  the  place  which  they  traversed,  and  was  unable  to  conceive  how  any 
human  creatures  managed  to  crawl  over  rocks  so  steep  and  so  treacherous. 
After  they  bad  got  about  half-way  across,  they  found  the  difficultiei  of  the 
route  and  the  danger  from  falling  stones  so  great,  that  they  struck  straight  up 
the  mountain,  in  the  hope  of  finding  some  safer  way.  The]  W«n  to  a  certain 
extent  successful,  for  they  came  presently  to  a  small  ledge,  caused  by  a  sort 
of  fault  in  the  rock,  running  horizontally  across  the  north-western  tare  of  the 
mountain  a  little  distance  below  the  summit  Traversing  this  ledge,  the 
Italians  found  themselves  close  to  the  Z'Mutt  arite,  but  still  separated  from  it 

1  Bee  p.  nr>.  tad  pp.  120-21. 

2  A  ridge  descending  towards  the  Z'Muttgletsclu-r. 


APPENDIX. 


MR.  CRAUFURD  GROVE'S  ASCENT. 


407 


by  a  barrier,  to  outflank  which  it  was  necessary  to  descend  a  perpendicular 
gully.  Carrel  and  Bich  were  lowered  down  tins,  the  other  two  men  remaining 
at  the  top  to  haul  up  their  companions  on  their  return,  as  otherwise  they  could 
not  have  got  up  again.  Passing  on  to  the  Z'Mutt  arSte  without  further  ditli- 
culty,  Carrel  and  Bich  climbed  by  that  ridge  to  the  summit  of  the  mountain. 
In  returning,  the  Italians  kept  to  the  ledge  for  the  whole  distance  across  the 
north-western  face,  and  descended  to  the  place  where  the  artte  of  the  shoulder 
abuts  against  the  main  peak  by  a  sort  of  rough  ridge  of  rocks  between  the 
north-western  and  southern  faces.  When  I  ascended  in  1867,  we  followed 
this  route  in  the  ascent  and  in  the  descent.  I  thought  the  ledge  difficult, 
in  some  places  decidedly  dangerous,  and  should  not  care  to  set  foot  on  it 
again  ;  but  assuredly  it  neither  is  so  difficult  nor  so  continuously  dangerous 
as  those  gaunt  and  pitiless  rock-slopes  which  the  Italians  crossed  in  their 
upward  route. 

"The  credit  of  making  the  Italian  ascent  of  the  Matterhorn  belongs 
undoubtedly  to  J.-A.  Carrel  and  to  the  other  mountaineers  who  accompanied 
him.  Bennen  led  his  party  bravely  and  skilfully  to  a  point  some  750  feet  below 
the  top.  From  this  point,  however,  good  guide  though  he  was,  Bennen  had  t<  > 
retire  defeated  ;  and  it  was  reserved  for  the  better  mountain-craft  of  the  Val- 
tournanche  guide  to  win  the  difficult  way  to  the  summit  of  the  Matterhorn." 

Mr.  Craufurd  Grove  was  the  first 
traveller  who  ascended  the  Matterhorn 
after  the  accident,  and  the  natives  of 
Val  Tournanche  were,  of  course,  greatly 
delighted  that  his  ascent  was  made  upon 
their  side.  Some  of  them,  however, 
were  by  no  means  well  pleased  that 
J.-A.  Carrel  was  so  much  regarded. 
They  feared,  perhaps,  that  he  would 
acquire  the  monopoly  of  the  mountain. 
Just  a  month  after  Mr.  Grove's  ascent, 
six  Valtournanchians  set  out  to  see 
whetlier  they  could  not  learn  the  route, 
and  so  come  in  for  a  share  of  the  good 
things  which  were  expected  to  arrive. 
They  were  three  Maquignaz's,  Ca?sar 
Carrel  (my  old  guide),  J.-B.  Carrel,  and 
a  daughter  of  the  last  named  !  They 
left  Breuil  at  5  a.m.  on  Sept.  12,  and  at 
3  p.m.  arrived  at  the  hut,  where  they 
passed  the  night.     At  7  A.M.  the  next 

day.  they  started  again  (leaving  J.-B.  Carrel  behind),  and  proceeded  along  tin* 
'shoulder' to  the  final  peak;  passed  the  cleft  which  had  stopped  Benin  n, 
and  clambered  up  the  comparatively  easy  rocks  on  the  other  side  until  they 
arrived  at  the  base  of  the  last  precipice,  down  which  we  had  hurled  stones 

1  By  permission,  from  a  photograph  by  Siguor  Sella. 


J.-JOSSPH    MAQUKiNAZ.1 


408 


sritAMM.KS  AMnXCST  THE  Af.I'S. 


Al'PENMX. 


on  July  14,  1865.  They  (yourfc  woman  and  all  were  then  about  350  feet 
from  tin'  suimnit !  Then,  Instead  < »f  taming  to  the  left,  as  Carrel  and  Mr. 
Gfarore  bad  done,  J.-Joseph  and  J. -Pierre  Maqnignai  paid  attention  to  the  cliff 


^ 


THE  SUMMIT  Or  THE  MATTKRHORN  IN  1874  (NORTHERN  END). 

in  boot  of  them,  and  managed  to  find  a  means  of  passing  up,  by  clefts,  ledges, 
and  gullies,  to  the  summit.  This  was  a  shorter  (and  it  appears  to  be  an 
easier)  route  than  that  taken  by  Carrel  and  Grove,  and  it  has  been  followed 
by  all  those  who  have  since  then  ascended  the  mountain  from  the  side  of 


AITKNDIX. 


HUTS  AND  CABANES. 


409 


r.rciiil.1     Subsequently,  ropes  were  fixed  over  the  most  difficult  portions  of 
tin-  final  climb. 

In  tin;  meantime  they  bad  not  been  idle  upon  the  other  side.  A  hut 
was  constructed  upon  the  eastern  face,  at  a  height  of  12,526  feet  above 
the  sea,  near  to  the  crest  of  the  ridge  which  descends  towards  Zermatt 
(north-east  ridge).2  The  erection  was  undertaken  by  the  Knubels,  of  St. 
Nicholas,  at  the  expense  of  Monsieur  Alex.  Seiler  and  of  the  Swiss  Alpine 
Club.  This  hut  upon  the  east  face  is  placed  in  an  insecure  position,  and  is 
now  seldom  used,  as  another  hut  or  cabane  has  been  built  upon  the  Hornli 


ridge,3  a  few  yards  to  the  east  of,  and 
slightly  lower  down  than  the  spot 
where  Mr.  Kennedy  put  up  his  cairn 
in  1862  (see  p.  89). 

The  second  ascent  of  the  Matter- 
horn  on  the  northern  side  was  made 
by  Mr.  J.  M.  Elliot,  on  July  24-25, 
1868,  with  the  guides  Joseph  Marie 
Lochmatter  and  Peter  Knubel.   Since 


THE    HUT   ON    THE    HORNLI    RIDGE  (1892). 


then  very  numerous  ascents  have  been  made  both  upon  the  Swiss  and  uj>on 
the   Italian   side.     Down   to   the  end   of    1871   they  were  equally  divided 


1  J. -Joseph  and  J. -Pierre  Maquignaz  alone  ascended  ;  the  others  had  had  enough  and 
returned.  It  should  be  observed  that  ropes  had  been  tixed,  by  J. -A.  Carrel  and  others, 
over  a/l  the  difficult  parts  of  the  mountain  as  high  as  the  shoulder,  be/ore  the  ascent  of 
tin  sr  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. 

2  This  is  marked  on  the  Map  of  the  Matterhorn  and  its  Glaciers  (Cab.  S.A.C.).  A 
view  of  it  WM  driven   in    77/.'  Atemi  <;/'  the  Matterhorn. 

3  Tlie  position  of  the  hut  on  the  Hornli  ridge  is  marked  by  the  word  Cabane  on  the 
Map  of  the   Matterhorn  and  its  Glaciers. 

3  G 


410  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS  aitksm.v 

betWMD  tin*  northern  (or  Zennatt)  and  tin-  southern  ><v  lireuil)  route. 
Until  tli.it  time,  neither  guides  nor  tourists  had  got  clear  of  the  idea  that 
the  Swiss  route  was  more  difficult  and  dangerous  than  the  Italian  one. 
In  1872  (the  war  following  the  publication  of  Scrambles  uiiK'inist  thr 
Alps)  the  Zerinatt  side  found  more  favour,  and  it  has  continued  to  1m- 
the  popular  route  to  the  present  time.  In  Appendix  E  the  ascents 
have  been  tabulated  down  to  the  fir.-t  which  was  mode  in  1880  ;'  and, 
amongst  tin-  I!M  which  are  enumerated,  136  were  made  on  the  Swiss  side, 
against  23  on  the  Italian  side.  On  nine  other  occasions  persons  crossed 
the  mountain  from  Zerinatt  to  Breuil,  anil  upon  twenty -two  more 
traversed  it  from   Breuil   to  Zerinatt. 

Prof.  Tyndall  was  the  first  to  tarn  the  summit  of  the  Matterhorn  into 
a  pass  (see  p.  425,  ascent  No.  7).  He  went  up  the  lireuil  side  ami  came 
down  upon  Zerinatt.  A  few  days  later  Messrs.  Hoiler  and  Thioly  crossed 
the  mountain  in  the  reverse  direction  (No.   8). 

The  first  of  the  following  ascents  which  calls  for  notice  is  that  by 
Signor  F.  Giordano  (No.  13).  This  gentleman  came  to  Breuil  several  times 
after  his  visit  in  1865,  but  he  was  always  baffled  by  the  weather.  In 
.Inly  1866,  he  got  as  high  as  the  'cravate'  with  Jean-Antoine  Carrel  and 
other  men,  and  was  detained  there  five  days  and  nights  unable  to  move  either 
up  or  down!  At  last,  on  Sept.  3-5,  1868,  he  was  able  to  gratify  his  desire, 
and  accomplished  the  feat  of  ascending  the  mountain  upon  one  side  and 
descending  it  upon  the  other.  Signor  Giordano  spent  a  considerable  time 
in  examining  the  structure  of  the  Matterhorn,  and  became  benighted  upon 
its  eastern  face  in  consequence.  I  am  indebted  to  him  for  the  valuable  note 
and  the  accompanying  section  which  follow  the  Table  of  Ascents.'2 

Questions  having  been  frequently  put  to  me  respecting  the  immediate 
summit  of  the  Matterhorn,  and  difficulties  having  heen  expressed  as  to  recogni- 
tion of  the  two  views  given  upon  pp.  378  and  380,  I  made  an  ascent  of  the 
mountain  in  1874,  to  photograph  the  summit,  and  to  see  what  changes  had 
occurred  since  our  visit  nine  years  before.  The  summits  of  most  high 
mountains  vary  from  time  to  time,  and  the  Matterhorn  is  no  exception 
to  the  general  rule.  It  was  sharper  and  narrower  in  1874  than  in  1865. 
Instead  of  being  able  'to  run  about,'  every  step  had  to  be  cut  with  the 
axe  ;    and  the  immediate  summit,  instead   of   l>eing  a  blunt  and   rounded 

1  It  has  not  been  possible  to  oh  ry  this  list  on  to  a  later  date.  Ascents  have  multiplied, 
and  are  often  made  by  persons  whose  names  are  unknown. 

The  Geneva  Telegraph  of  Sept.  24,  1892,  stated  that  on  the  previous  Sunday  there 
were  twenty-three  tourists  upon  the  summit,  one  of  whom  was  a  Royal  Prince. 

2  Signor  Giordano  carried  a  mercurial  barometer  throughout  the  entire  distance,  and 
read  it  frequently.  His  observations  enable  me  to  determine  the  heights  that  were 
attained  upon  the  different  attempts  which  were  made  to  ascend  the  mountain,  and  the 
various  points  upon  it  which  have  Wen  so  frequently  mentioned  throughout  this  volume. 
He  left  I  minimum  thermometer  upon  the  summit  in  1868.  This  was  recovered  by  J. -A. 
Carrel  in  July  1869,  and  was  found  to  register  only  9°  Fahrenheit  below  the  freezing- 
point.  It  was  enppoeed  that  it  was  protected  from  the  winter  cold  by  a  deep  covering 
of  snow.     The  explanation  is  scarcely  satisfactory. 


APPENiux.  ABANDONMENT  OF  BRANTSCHEN.  411 

eminence,  was  a  little  cone  of  snow  which  went  to  a  sharp  point.  In 
consequence  of  a  strong  north  wind  which  was  blowing  at  the  time,  we  had 
to  work  down  upon  the  edge  of  the  cliff  overlooking  Breuil,  to  get  protection 
for  the  camera,  and  eventually  we  gained  a  position  which  gave  a  good  view 
of  the  summit ;  but  our  ledge  was  so  small  that  we  could  not  vcnton  to 
unrope,  and  Jean-Antoine  had  to  squat  down  whilst  I  photographed  over 
his  head.  The  engraving  upon  p.  408  has  been  made  from  the  photograph 
which  was  taken  on  this  occasion.  The  nearest  of  the  lower  peaks,  on  the 
left,  is  the  summit  of  the  Dent  d'Hdrens. 

Carrel  and  I  stopped  a  second  night  at  the  cabane  on  the  east  face,  and 
whilst  there  we  had  the  insecurity  of  its  position  forcibly  impressed  upon 
us  by  seeing  a  huge  block  break  away  from  the  rock  at  its  side,  and  go 
crashing  down  over  the  very  route  which  is  commonly  pursued  by  tourists. 
The  view  from  this  hut  extends  from  the  Bietschorn  on  the  north  to  the 
Grand  Tournalin  in  the  south,  and  includes  the  Mischabel  group,  the 
Allaleinhorn,  Alphubel,  Rimpfischhorn  and  Stralhorn,  Monte  Rosa,  the 
Lyskamm  and  the  Breithorn.  The  uppermost  800  feet  of  the  Matterhorn 
can  be  seen  from  the  hut,  but  the  rest  of  the  intervening  part  of  the 
mountain  is  not  visible,  being  hidden  by  a  small  ridge  which  projects  from 
the  face. 

In  1879  two  deaths  occurred  upon  the  Matterhorn,  within  a  few  hours 
of  each  other, — one  in  the  hut  on  the  'cravate,'  and  the  second  upon  the 
eastern  face.  On  August  12,  Dr.  C.  Liischer  and  Prof.  H.  Schiess  started 
from  Breuil  at  a  very  early  hour,  accompanied  by  the  guides  Joseph  Marie 
Lochmatter,  Joseph  Brantschen,  and  P.  Beytrison.  They  gained  the  hut 
on  the  'cravate'  (13,524  feet)  at  1.20  p.m.,  and  stopped  there  for  the 
night ;  and  on  the  following  day  the  party  crossed  the  summit  of  the 
mountain,  with  the  exception  of  Brantschen,  who  was  left  behind  in  the 
hut,  some  say  only  slightly  ill,  and  others  at  the  point  of  death.  They 
sent  back  assistance  to  their  sick  comrade  in  a  somewhat  tardy  fashion, 
and  when  the  relief  party  arrived  at  the  hut  Brantschen  was  found  dead. 
Dr.  Liischer  and  Prof.  Schiess  furnished  an  account  of  what  happened  to 
the  Basel  Section  of  the  Swiss  Alpine  Club,  and  from  this  statement  the 
following  extracts  are  made. 

"  When  we  reached  the  '  cravate '  it  was  already  1  p.m.  Lochmatter 
told  us  we  had  still  four  hours'  work  to  reach  the  top,  and  the  question 
arose  whether  it  would  not  be  more  prudent  to  spend  the  night  in  the 
Italian  cabane.  .  .  In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  we  remarked  that 
Brantschen  was  unwell ;  Lochmatter  kept  on  pressing  him  to  eat  and 
drink.  We  took  no  great  heed  of  the  matter,  and  looked  on  it  as  mountain- 
sickness,  or  the  result  of  drinking  too  much  water  during  the  ascent  On 
my  asking  Brantschen  when  he  had  first  felt  unwell,  he  answered,  since  he 
had  slept  in  the  sun.  We  observed  no  spitting  of  blood  on  his  part  during 
the  ascent;  had  we  noticed  anything  of  the  kind  WB  should  naturally  not 
have  taken  him  with  us.  Up  to  5  p.m.  he  was  sitting  on  the  door-step, 
his  gaze  directed  on  Breuil.  Later  on,  after  he  had  lain  down,  he  began  to 
groan  and  to  throw  himself  about,  in  the  night  also  to  rattle  in  the  throat. 


412  St'HAMIlLES   AMONGST  THE  ALTS.  m-i-inimv 

Being  asked  when  h<-  fell  pain,  lie  answered,  h<-  fell  pains  all  over,  There 
wm  altogether  no!  Draeh  to  be  got  out  of  him  either  by  us  or  by  fioflhniettor. 

Hf  was,  however,  in  no  high  stah'  of  fever,  he  was  not  hot  to  the  t « > i »« 1 1 . 
and  his  pulse  was  not  unusually  rapid.  Their  was  do  remarkable  coughing. 
My  guide  acted  as  cook,  and  suoooeded  with  the  small  stock  of  wood  in 
making  tea  several  times,  and  towards  morning  chocolate  also.  This  tea  was 
the  only  restorative  we  could  offer  to  the  sick  man,  and  he  seemed  to  take 
it  gladly.  Towards  morning  he  at  last  became  quieter,  his  breathing  more 
regular,  and  he  left  off  groaning  and  crying  out.'' 

"On  the  morning  of  August  13  the  guides  had  given  a  hope  that 
Brantschen  might  recover  sufficiently  to  accompany  us;  for  this  reason  the 
start  was  delayed  to  6  o'clock.  But  it  became  evident  that  this  waa  im- 
possible. And  now  no  discussion  took  place,  neither  was  there  any  inter- 
change of  plans  between  the  guides  and  Brantschen.  It  appeared  best  to 
all  of  us  to  wrap  up  Brantschen  well,  to  furnish  him  with  the  necessary 
provisions,  and  to  hurry  over  Quickly  to  Zermatt  and  send  him  help.  Had 
we  remained  with  him  it  would  have  been  no  benefit  to  Brantschen  ;  and  I 
am  also  convinced  that  he  himself  thought  our  course  of  action  perfectly 
natural,  otherwise  be  would  have  made  some  remonstrance,  which  he  did 
not  do.  We  l«de  him  keep  up  his  courage  and  wished  him  farewell,  in  the 
hope  that  he  would  by  degrees  entirely  recover.  .  .  A^  1.30  A.M.  on  August 
14  we  reached  Zermatt.  We  had  sent  from  the  Swiss  hut  a  message  before 
us,  and  at  3  o'clock  the  relief  party  started  over  the  Furgg-gletscher  skirting 
the  Matterhorn.  It  found  Brantschen  already  dead  and  stiff;  apparently  a 
rupture  of  the  heart  or  lungs  had  happened."  1 

At  the  time  that  this  was  taking  place  on  the  South  side  of  the  Matter- 
horn,  Dr.  William  O.  Moseley  of  Boston  lost  his  life  on  the  East  Face. 
He  left  Zermatt  at  10.30  p.m.  on  August  13,  in  company  with  Mr.  A.  E. 
Craven  and  the  guides  Peter  Rubi  and  Christian  Inabnit ;  and  ascended  the 
mountain  by  the  usual  northern  route,  without  stopping  at  the  hut.  They 
reached  the  summit  at  9  am.  on  the  14th,  and  had  returned  to  within  a 
short  distance  from  the  hut,  when  Dr.  Moseley  (who  had  found  it  irksome  to 
be  tied  up,  and  had   frequently  wished  to  go  unroped)  untied   himself  from 

1  The  above  extracts  are  taken  from  the  Alpine  Jimninl,  vol.  ix.,  pp.  374-77.  I 
entirely  concur  in  the  following  remarks,  which  were  appended  l>y  the  Editor.  "On 
the  facts  of  this  account  hut  one  judgment  can  be  formed.  In  the  face  of  the  descrip- 
tion given  by  Prof.  Schiess  of  Brantschen's  condition  during  the  night  his  excuses  are 
altogether  inadequate.  The  adoption  of  a  route  by  winch  the  nearest  succour  was  (at 
the  pace  of  the  party)  19J  instead  of  8  hours  off,  may  have  been  simply  a  deplorable 
error  of  judgment  ;  but  the  determination  to  leave  the  sick  man  alone  showed  un- 
pardonable want  of  heart.  It  must  ever  be  a  matter  of  profound  regret  that  ;my 
travellers  or  guides  should,  without  the  least  pressure  of  necessity,  have  left  a  sick  man, 
without  firewood  in  a  hut  13.000  feet  above  the  sea,  to  over  thirty  hours  of  certain  and 
absolute  solitude.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  desertion  of  Brantscheii  under  such 
circumstances  was  a  flagrant  breach  of  the  first  tradition  of  all  honourable  moimtsllMW 
ing — the  tradition,  by  virtue  of  which  every  member  of  a  party,  gnide  or  mountaineer, 
has  beta  Mrattomed  in  danger  or  distress  to  count  on  the  support  of  Ins  comrades." 


APPENDIX. 


ML\   MrUMKHYS   L'ul'TK. 


413 


the  rest,  doing  so  entirely  upon  his  own  responsibility.  A  few  minutes 
later  the  party  had  to  cross  a  projecting  piece  of  rock,  llubi  went  over 
lirst,  and  planted  his  axe  in  position  to  give  firm  footing  to  Dr.  Moseley, 
who  followed.  But,  unhappily,  he  declined  assistance  ;  placed  his  hand 
upon  the  rock,  and  endeavoured  to  vault  over  it.  In  doing  so  he  slipped, 
lost  hold  of  his  axe,  and  fell  with  ever-accelerating  velocity  down  the  Bast 
Face  for  about  2000  feet,  and  of  course  was  killed  on  the  spot.  His  body 
was  recovered  three  days  later  and  was  interred  under  the  south  wall  of  the 


THE    ENGLISH    CHURCH    AT 


Kngliali  Church  at  Zermatt.  "I  was  shocked  to  find,"  said  a  friend  who 
examined  his  remains,  "  that  Dr.  Moseley  had  hardly  any  nails  in  one  of  his 
boots." 

Many  persons  have  talked  at  different  times  about  the  possibility  of 
finding  a  way  up  the  Matterhorn  from  the  side  of  the  Z'mutt  Glacier ;  but 
it  was  not  until  the  year  1879  that  a  way  was  discovered.  On  September 
■2-'.'.,  Mr.  A.  F.  Mummery  with  the  guides  Alexander  Burgener,  Petrus,  and 
lvtutinetta  succeeded  in  gaining  the  summit  by  first  going  up  the  long 
snow-buttress  which  runs  out  from  the  mountain  towards  the  north-west, 
and  then  up  the  rocks  above.  When  Bearing  the  top,  they  joined  the  routes 
taken  by  Carrel  and  Mr.  Grove  upon  the  first  ascents  which  were  made  on 
the   Italian   side.1 

1  Mr.  Muminery'H  description  will  be  found  in  the  Atpku  Journal,  vol.  ix..  p]>. 
458-62. 


11  »  SCRAMIU.KS  AMONGST  THE  A  J.I  >  aitkni.ix. 

At  tlit*  wry  time  that  Mr.  Mummery  was  engaged  in  hie  expedition, 
Mr.  W.  lYnliall  with  thu  guides  Ferdinand  Imseng  and  Louis  ZnrbcttokflD, 
was  occupied  on  a  similar  enterprise,  and  also  ascended  the  Matterhorn  from 
the  direction  of  the  Stockhi.  Mr.  lVnhall,  however,  at  first  took  a  ootum 
slightly  more  to  the  south  than  Mr.  Mummery,  though  he,  at  last,  like 
the  others,  got  on  to  the  main  Z'niutt  ante,  and  completed  the  ascent  by 
following  a  portion  of  the  old  Italian  route.1 

Three  days  afterwards  (Sept.  5-6),  Mr.  J.  Bauniann  followed  in  Mr. 
Mummery's  footsteps.  "I  found  it,"  he  said,  "an  interesting  rock -climb, 
presenting  no  extraordinary  difficulties.  .  .  I  am  of  opinion  that  tin- 
a.-ttnt  by  the  Z'mutt  arUe  will  in  future  Income  the  favourite  way  of 
crossing  the  Matterhorn." 2  As  yet,  Mr.  Baumann's  anticipation  has  not 
been  realised.8 

In  1886,  another  life  was  lost  on  the  East  Face.  Two  friends,  named 
Borckhardt  and  Davies,  resolved  to  climb  the  mountain.  We  knew,  said 
the  latter,  that  it  had  been  done  by  ladies  and  youths.  "  It  was  the  regular 
thing  to  go  up  the  Matterhorn,  and  we  accordingly  determined  to  make  the 
ascent." 

Accompanied  by  Fridolin  Kronig  and  Peter  Aufdemblatten,  they  left 
Zermatt  on  Aug.  16,  in  fine  weather  ;  and  at  3  A.M.  on  the  17th  started 
from  the  hut  on  the  Hornli  ridge,  arriving  on  the  summit  at  about  9  a.m. 
The  comparative  rapidity  with  which  they  mounted  was  probably  dm-  to  the 
fact  that  they  were  closely  following  in  the  track  of  other  parties  of  tourist-. 
The  weather  changed  during  the  early  morning,  and  it  began  to  hail  while 
they  were  still  on  the  top.  They  commenced  to  descend  at  9.20  a.m.,  in  the 
next  ten  hours  came  down  scarcely  2000  feet,  and  were  benighted  some 
distance  above  the  old  hut  on  the  East  Face.  All  tracks  on  the  mountain 
were  obliterated  by  the  hail  and  snow  which  fell.  They  remained  on  this 
spot  from  about  7  p.m.  on  the  17th  of  August  until  1  p.m.  on  the  18th,  and 
then  Mr.  Davies  and  the  two  guides  continued  the  descent,  leaving  Mr. 
Borckhardt  behind,  upon  the  open  face  of  the  mountain,  lying  in  a  helpless 

1  See  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  ix.,  pp.  449-58. 

2  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  ix.,  p.  366. 

3  The  following  paragraph  is  taken  from  the  Alpine  Jourtuil,  vol.  xiii.,  pp.  399-400. 
On  Aug.  3,  1887,  Messrs.  G.  Lainmer  and  A.  Lorria  "  without  guides,  left  the 
Htockje  hut  at  1.45  a.m.  to  attempt  the  ascent  of  the  Matterhorn  by  Mr.  Penhall's 
route.  They  reached  a  point  not  very  far  from  the  top,  but  were  compelled  at  1  r.M. 
to  turn  back,  owing  to  iced  rocks.  At  5.30  or  6  p.m.,  while  traversing  Penhall's 
couloir,  they  were  carried  down  by  an  avalanche.  Herr  Lorria  received  concussion  of 
the  l>rain,  besides  a  fracture  of  the  right  leg  above  the  ankle,  had  both  feet  frost-bitten. 
ami  became  unconscious.  Herr  Lammer,  with  a  badly-sprained  ankle,  pulled  his  friend 
on  to  a  rock,  stripped  ofT  his  own  coat  to  cover  him,  and  then  went  for  aid.  He  found 
no  one  at  the  Stockje  hut,  so  had  to  crawl  down  to  the  StatTel  Alp,  whence  he  de- 
spatched a  message  to  Zermatt.  A  relief  party  came  up  and  r—olll  '1  Hot  lorria  about 
7.30  a.m.  on  Aug.  4.  He  was  still  unconscious,  and  in  his  delirium  had  stripped  off 
his  clothes."  Further  details  of  this  mad  adventure  will  1h>  found  in  the  Alpitn- 
Journal,  vol.  xiii.,  pp.  550-53. 


\ii  kxdix.  LOSS  OF  AN  ENTIRE  PARTY.  415 

■ 

condition,  at  the  point  of  death  !  A  few  hours  later  he  was  found  dead 
aii'l  stiff,  partly  covered  hy  freshly -fallen  snow. 

The  entire  story  exceeds  in  horror  and  incredibility  the  abandonment  of 
Rrnutschen,  and  is  much  too  long  to  recount  in  these  pages.1  An  inquiry 
into  this  miserable  business  was  held  by  the  Valaisan  authorities,  and  in 
an  official  Report  upon  it  by  Prof.  F.  0.  Wolf,  which  was  published  at  Sion, 
it  is  said  "  that  the  sole  causes  of  the  accident  were  the  sudden  changes  in 
the  weather ;  the  insufficient  numtar  of  guides ;  and  the  facts  that  neither 
Mr.  Da  vies  nor  Mr.  Borckhardt  were  fit  to  climb  such  a  peak,  were  in- 
sufficiently clad,  and  badly  provisioned."  A  further  cause  might  have  been 
added,  namely,  the  incapacity  of  the  guides. 

In  1890,  there  was  yet  another  accident  upon  the  East  Face,  which 
caused  the  loss  of  an  entire  party.  A  young  man  from  Strasburg,  Heir 
Goehrs,  started  from  the  hut  on  the  Hornli  ridge  at  3.30  A.M.  on  the  13th 
of  September,  with  two  young  guides,  Alois  Graven  and  Joseph  Brantschen. 
They  were  shortly  followed  by  several  other  persons.  About  9  A.M.,  both 
parties  encountered  high  wind  when  a  thousand  feet  or  so  below  the 
summit,  and  decided  to  return.  Very  soon  afterwards,  Fridolin  Burgener 
(one  of  the  guides  of  the  lower  party)  heard  a  clatter,  and  saw  Herr  Goehrs 
and  his  guides  flying  through  the  air  within  a  hundred  yards  of  him.  The 
three  fell  until  they  were  brought  up  on  the  Furgg-gletscher,  and  of  course 
were  killed  outright.  Though  the  cause  of  this  accident  is  unknown,  the 
probability  is  that  these  three  very  young  men  (who  could  not  have  had 
adequate  mountaineering  experience)  were  killed  through  one  or  more  of 
them  slipping  upon  the  easiest  side  of  the  mountain.  Since  this  last 
lamentable  affair  the  Zermatt  face  of  the  Matterhorn  has  been  free  from 
disaster,  but  there  still  remain  to  be  mentioned  two  catastrophes  which 
have  occurred  upon  the  Italian  side. 

When  telegrams  came  in,  at  the  beginning  of  September  1890,  stating 
that  Jean-Antoine  Carrel  had  died  from  fatigue  on  the  south  side  of  the 
Matterhorn,  those  who  knew  the  man  scarcely  credited  the  report.  It  was 
not  likely  that  this  tough  and  hardy  mountaineer  would  die  from  fatigue 
anywhere,  still  less  that  he  would  succumb  upon  'his  own  mountain.'  But 
it  was  true.  Jean-Antoine  perished  from  the  combined  effects  of  cold, 
hunger,  and  fatigue  upon  his  own  side  of  his  own  mountain,  almost  within 
sight  of  his  own  home.  He  started  on  the  23rd  of  August  from  Breuil, 
with  an  Italian  gentleman  and  Charles  Gorret  (brother  of  the  Abbe"  Gorret), 
with  the  intention  of  crossing  the  Matterhorn  in  one  day.  The  weather  at 
the  time  of  their  departure  was  the  very  best,  and  it  changed  in  the  course 
of  the  day  to  the  very  worst  They  were  shut  up  in  the  cabane  at  the  foot 
of  the  Great  Tower  during  the  24th,  with  scarcely  any  food,  and  on  the  25th 
retreated  to  BreuiL  Although  Jean-Antoine  (uj>on  whom,  as  leading  guide, 
the  chief  labour  and  responsibility  naturally  devolved)  ultimately  succeeded 
in  getting  his  party  safely  off  the  mountain,  he  himself  was  so  overcome  by 
fatigue,  cold,  and  want  of  food  that  he  died  on  the  spot. 

1  See  the  Alpine  Journal,  vol.  xiii.,   pi>.  95-110,  and  166-71. 


4 1 6  SCR  A  MULES  A  MONGS  T  THE  ALPS.  \  1 1 .  m  .  i  \ 

Jean-Aniniiic  Cuivl  entered  his  sixty -second  year  in  January  1890,1 
and  wai  in  the  field  throughout  the  rammer.     On  2lst  August,  having  just 

returned  from  an  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc,  he  was  engaged  at  Conrmayeur  by 
Signor  Leone  Sinigaglia,  of  Turin,  for  an  aseent  of  the  Matterhom  Be 
proceeded  to  the  Val  Tournanche,  and  on  the  B8w"  Bet  out  with  liini  and 
t'liarles  (iorrct,  for  the  last  time,  to  ascend  his  own  mountain  by  his  own 
route,  A  long  and  clear  account  of  what  happened  was  communicated  l»y 
Signor  Sinigaglia  to  the  Italian  Alpine  Cluh,  and  from  this  the  following 
relation   is  condensed  : — 

"We  started  for  the  Cervin  at  2.15  a.m.  on  the  23rd,  in  splendid 
weather,  with  the  intention  of  descending  the  same  night  to  the  hut  at 
the  Hornli  on  the  Swiss  side.  We  proceeded  pretty  well,  hut  the  glaze 
of  ice  on  the  rocks  near  the  Col  du  Lion  retarded  our  march  somewhat, 
and  when  we  arrived  at  the  hut  at  the  foot  of  the  Great  Tower,  prudence 
counselled  the  postponement  of  the  ascent  until  the  next  day,  for  the  sky 
was  becoming  overcast.     We  decided  upon  this,  and  stopped. 

"Here  I  ought  to  mention  that  both  I  and  Gorret  noticed  with  un- 
easiness that  Carrel  showed  signs  of  fatigue  upon  leaving  the  Col  du  Lion. 
I  attributed  this  to  temporary  weakness.  As  soon  as  we  reached  the  hut 
he  lay  down  and  slept  profoundly  for  two  hours,  and  awoke  much  restored. 
In  the  meantime  the  weather  was  rapidly  changing.  Storm  clouds  coming 
from  the  direction  of  Mont  Blanc  hung  over  the  Dent  d'Herens,  but  we 
regarded  them  as  transitory,  and  trusted  to  the  north  wind,  which  was  still 
continuing  to  blow.  Meanwhile,  three  of  the  Maquignaz's  and  Edward 
Bich,  whom  we  found  at  the  hut,  returning  from  looking  after  the  ropes, 
started  downwards  for  Breuil,  at  parting  wishing  us  a  happy  ascent,  and 
holding  out  hopes  of  a  splendid  day  for  the  morrow. 

"  But,  after  their  departure,  the  weather  grew  worse  very  rapidly ;  the 
wind  changed,  and  towards  evening  there  broke  upon  us  a  most  violent 
hurricane  of  hail  and  snow,  accompanied  by  frequent  Hashes  of  lightning. 
The  air  was  so  charged  with  electricity  that  for  two  consecutive  hours  in 
the  night  one  could  see  in  the  hut  as  in  broad  daylight.  The  storm  con- 
tinued to  rage  all  night,  and  the  day  and  night  following,  continuously, 
with  incredible  violence.     The  temperature  in  the  hut  fell  to  -3  degrees. 

"The  situation  was  becoming  somewhat  alarming,  for  the  provisions  wen 
getting  low,  and  we  had  already  begun  to  use  the  seats  of  the  hut  as  tire- 
wood.  The  rocks  were  in  an  extremely  bad  state,  and  we  were  afraid  that 
if  we  stop]>ed  longer,  and  the  storm  continued,  we  should  be  blocked  up  in 
the  hut  for  several  days.  This  being  the  state  of  affairs,  it  was  decided 
among  the  guides  that  if  the  wind  should  abate  we  should  descend  on  tin- 
following  morning;  and,  as  the  wind  did  abate  somewhat,  on  the  morning 
of  the  25th  (the  weather,  however,  still  remaining  very  bad),  it  was  unani- 
moualy  settled  to  make  a  retreat." 

"At  9  a.m.  we  left  the  hut  I  will  not  speak  of  the  difficulties  and 
dangers  in  descending  the  arite  to  the  Col  du  Lion,  which  we  reached  at 

1  The  exact  date  of  his  birth  does  not  seem  to  be  known.  He  was  christened  at 
tla-  Church  of  St.  Antoine,   Yaltournanche,  on  January  17,  1829. 


AiTKM.ix.  DEATH  OF  JEAN-ANTOINE  CARREL.  417 

2.30  p.m.  The  ropes  were  half  frozen  ;  the  rocks  were  covered  with  a 
glaze  of  ice,  and  fresh  snow  hid  all  points  of  support.  Some  spots  were 
really  as  bad  as  could  be,  and  I  owe  much  to  the  prudence  and  coolness 
of  the  two  guides  that  we  got  over  them  without  mishap." 

"At  the  Col  du  Lion,  where  we  hoped  the  wind  would  moderate,  a 
dreadful  hurricane  recommenced,  and  in  crossing  the  snowy  passages  we 
were  nearly  suffocated  by  the  wind  and  snow  which  attacked  us  on  all 
sides.1  Through  the  loss  of  a  glove,  Gorret,  half  an  hour  after  leaving  the 
hut,  had  already  got  a  hand  frost-bitten.  The  cold  was  terrible  here. 
Every  moment  we  had  to  remove  the  ice  from  our  eyes,  and  it  was  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  that  we  could  speak  so  as  to  understand  one  another." 

••  Nevertheless,  Carrel  continued  to  direct  the  descent  in  a  most  ad- 
mirable manner,  with  a  coolness,  ability,  and  energy  above  all  praise.  I 
was  delighted  to  see  the  change,  and  Gorret  assisted  him  splendidly.  This 
part  of  the  descent  presented  unexpected  difficulties,  and  at  several  points 
great  dangers,  the  more  so  because  the  tourmente  prevented  Carrel  from 
being  sure  of  the  right  direction,  in  spite  of  his  consummate  knowledge  of 
the  Matterhorn.  At  11  p.m.  (or  thereabouts — it  was  impossible  to  look  at 
our  watches,  as  all  our  clothes  were  half  frozen)  we  were  still  toiling  down 
the  rocks.  The  guides  sometimes  asked  each  other  where  they  were ;  then 
we  went  forward  again — to  stop,  indeed  would  have  been  impossible. 
Carrel  at  last,  by  marvellous  instinct,  discovered  the  passage  up  which  we 
had  come,  and  in  a  sort  of  grotto  we  stopped  a  minute  to  take  some 
brandy." 

"  While  crossing  some  snow  we  saw  Carrel  slacken  his  pace,  and  then 
fall  two  or  three  times  to  the  ground.  Gorret  asked  him  what  was  the 
matter,  and  he  said  '  nothing,'  but  he  went  on  with  difficulty.  Attributing 
this  to  fatigue  through  the  excessive  toil,  Gorret  put  himself  at  the  head  of 
the  caravan,  and  Carrel,  after  the  change,  seemed  better,  and  walked  well, 
though  with  more  circumspection  than  usual.  From  this  place  a  short  and 
steep  passage  takes  one  down  to  the  pastures,  where  there  is  safety.  Gorret 
descended  first,  and  I  after  him.  We  were  nearly  at  the  bottom  when  1 
felt  the  rope  pulled.  We  stopped,  awkwardly  placed  as  we  were,  and  cried 
out  to  Carrel  several  times  to  come  down,  but  we  received  no  answer. 
Alarmed,  we  went  up  a  little  way,  and  heard  him  say,  in  a  faint  voice, 
1  Come  up  and  fetch  me,  I  have  no  strength  left.' " 

"We  went  up  and  found  that  he  was  lying  with  his  stomach  to  the 
ground,  holding  on  to  a  rock,  in  a  semi-conscious  state,  and  unable  to  get 
up  or  to  move  a  step.  With  extreme  difficulty  we  carried  him  up  to  a 
safe  place  and  asked  him  what  was  the  matter.  His  only  answer  was, 
•  1  know  no  longer  where  I  am.'  His  hands  were  getting  colder  and 
colder,  his  speech  weaker  and  more  broken,  and  his  body  more  still.  We 
did  all  we  could  for  him,  putting  with  great  difficulty  the  rest  of  the  cognac 
into  his  mouth.     He  said  something,  and  appeared  to  revive,  but  this  did 

1  Signor  Peraldo,  the  innkeeper  at  Breuil,  stated  that  a  relief  party  was  in  readiness 
during  the  whole  of  August  25  (the  day  on  which  the  descent  was  made),  and  was  pre- 
vented from  starting  by  the  violence  of  the  tempest. 

3h 


418  sriiAMULKS  AMoXGST  THE  ALPS.  aitkmmx. 

not  last  long.  \\  »•  tried  rubbing  him  with  snow,  and  shaking  him,  and 
calling  to  him  continually  ;  but  he  could  only  answer  with  moans. 

••  We  tried  to  lift  him,  but  it  was  impossible — he  was  getting  stiff.  We 
stooped  down,  and  asked  in  his  ear  if  he  wished  to  commend  his  soul  to 
God.  With  a  last  effort  he  answered  •  Yes,'  and  then  fell  on  his  back,  dead, 
upon  the  snow." 

Such  was  the  end  of  Jean-Antoine  Carrel, — a  man  who  was  possessed 
with  a  pure  and  genuine  love  of  mountains ;  a  man  of  originality  and 
resource,  courage  and  determination,  who  delighted  in  exploration.  His 
special  qualities  marked  him  out  as  a  fit  person  to  take  part  in  new  enter* 
prises,  and  I  preferred  him  to  all  others  as  a  companion  and  assistant  upon 
my  journey  amongst  the  Great  Andes  of  the  Equator.  Going  to  a  new 
country,  on  a  new  continent,  he  encountered  much  that  was  strange  and 
unforeseen  ;  yet  when  he  turned  his  face  homewards  he  had  the  satisfaction 
of  knowing  that  he  left  no  failures  behind  him.1  After  parting  at  Guayaquil 
in  1880,  we  did  not  meet  again.  In  his  latter  years,  I  am  told,  he  shewed 
signs  of  age,  and  from  information  which  has  been  communicated  to  me  it 
is  clear  that  he  had  arrived  at  a  time  when  it  would  have  been  prudent  to 
retire — if  he  could  have  done  so.  It  was  not  in  his  nature  to  spare  himself, 
and  he  worked  to  the  very  last.  The  manner  of  his  death  strikes  a  chord 
in  hearts  he  never  knew.  He  recognised  to  the  fullest  extent  the  duties  of 
his  position,  and  in  the  closing  act  of  his  life  set  a  brilliant  example  of 
fidelity  and  devotion.  For  it  cannot  be  doubted  that,  enfeebled  as  he  was, 
he  could  have  saved  himself  had  he  given  his  attention  to  self-preservation. 
He  took  a  nobler  course  ;  and,  accepting  his  responsibility,  devoted  his  whole 
soul  to  the  welfare  of  his  comrades,  until,  utterly  exhausted,  he  fell 
staggering  on  the  snow.  He  was  already  dying.  Life  was  flickering,  yet 
the  brave  spirit  said  '  It  is  nothing.'  They  placed  him  in  the  rear  to  ease 
his  work.  He  was  no  longer  able  even  to  support  himself ;  he  dropped  to 
the  ground,  and  in  a  few  minutes  expired.2 

I  very  much  regret  to  have  to  mention  yet  another  tragedy,  which 
occurred  quite  recently.  On  August  7,  1893,  Andreas  Seiler  (one  of  the 
youngest  members  of  the  family  of  my  old  friend  M.  Alexandre  Seiler)  and 
Johann  Biener  of  Zermatt  lost  their  lives  on  the  south  side  of  the  Matter- 
horn.  Mr.  Oscar  Gysi,  who  was  closely  following  them,  has,  at  my  request, 
furnished  the  following  statement : — 

1  See  Travels  amongst  the  Great  Andes  of  the  Equator,  1892. 

2  Signor  Sinigaglia  wrote  iii  a  letter  to  a  friend,  from  which  1  amjpermttted  to  quote, 
'•I  don't  try  to  tell  you  of  my  intense  pain  for  Carrel's  death.  He  IV11  altar  having 
saved  me,  and  no  guide  could  have  done  more  than  lie  did."  Charles  Gorret,  through 
his  brother  the  Abbe,  wrote  to  me  that  he  entirely  endorsed  what  hail  been  Mid  by  Big, 
Sinigaglia,  and  added,  "We  would  have  given  our  own  lives  to  have  saved  lii>. 

Jean-Antoine  died  at  the  foot  of  '  the  little  staircase.*  On  the  26th  of  August  Mi 
body  was  brought  to  Breuil,  ami  upon  the  29th  it  was  interred  at  Valtouraanche.  At 
the  beginning  of  July  1893,  an  iron  cross  was  placed  on  the  spot  where  be  expired,  at 
the  expense  of  Sig.  Sinigaglia,  who  went  in  person  along  with  Charles  Gorret  to  super- 
intend its  erection. 


AiiiNDix.  DEATH  UF  ANDREAS  SEILER.  419 

"  On  August  7,  shortly  before  6  A.M.,  we  left  the  Lac  Noir  Hotel,  crossed 
the  Furgg  Joch,  and  on  the  Italian  side  joined  the  ordinary  route  t"i« »n i 
Breuil  for  the  Matterhorn.  There  were  five  of  us — Andreas  Seiler,  niyxlt', 
and  as  guides  Johann  Biener  (aged  24),  Joseph  Taugwalder  (aged  27),  and 
L.  Moser  of  Taesch  (aged  2-2).  When  about  an  hour  ljelow  the  Col  du  Lion 
we  tied  up, — Seiler  insisting  upon  being  roped  to  Biener,  with  whom  he 
had  been  climbing  all  the  summer.  Biener  and  Seiler  wen  in  advance,  but 
we  kept  well  together.  When  we  were  considerably  higher  than  the  Tete 
du  Lion,  and  within  about  thirty  minutes  of  the  hut  at  the  foot  of  the 
Great  Tower,  we  came  to  an  almost  perpendicular  chimney,  some  twenty 
feet  high,  down  which  a  stout  knotted  rope  hung.  Biener  and  Seiler 
passed  up  it.  We  followed,  and  on  arriving  at  the  top  Moser  took  off  his 
sac  to  tie  up  afresh  the  wood  that  he  carried.  Seiler  and  Biener  were 
impatient  to  reach  the  hut,  and  wished  to  proceed  without  us ;  but  Taug- 
walder and  Moser  asked  them  to  wait  Their  words  were,  however,  useless. 
Moser,  who  had  warned  Seiler  repeatedly  during  the  last  half- hour  to  be 
careful,  and  who  did  not  like  their  over-confidence,  prayed  Seiler  to  let  him 
tie  himself  to  their  rope.  Seiler  and  Biener,  however,  only  laughed  at  him 
for  his  concern,  and  started  off.  Moser  finished  tying  up  his  wood,  and  we 
went  on.  The  others  were  only  five  minutes  ahead,  and  we  had  reached  a 
difficult  spot,  and  were  standing  in  steps  cut  at  the  top  of  a  small  patch  of 
ice,  at  an  angle  of  50°,  and  close  to  rock,  when  Moser  called  out,  *  Beware 
of  stones.'  We  pressed  up  close  to  the  rock  and  listened,  when  the  two" 
(Seiler  and  Biener)  "  shot  past  us.  We  were  all  three  close  together,  and 
Moser  could  have  touched  them  with  his  axe.  .  .  I  see  them  still — they 
were  photographed  in  my  mind.  They  were  tied  together.  Seiler  passed 
close  to  us,  his  back  downwards,  his  head  well  bent  up,  as  if  he  wen 
preparing  for  a  sudden  shock.  Biener  flew  far  out  against  the  blue  sky, 
and  the  rope  was  stretched  tightly  between  them."  They  fell  on  to  the 
Glacier  du  Lion,  and  when  the  bodies  were  recovered  they  were  still  tied 
together.  "  With  both,  the  crown  of  the  head  was  cut  away  as  though  it 
had  been  done  by  a  sharp  instrument  .  .  Seder's  watch  was  crushed,  and 
his  left  boot  was  missing,  although  the  foot  was  uninjured.  How  the 
accident  happened  will  never  be  known,  as  no  one  saw  them  slip.  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  Seiler  was  climbing  at  the  same  time  as  Biener, 
instead  of  waiting  until  he  had  found  firm  hold,  and  that  the  former  slipped, 
jerking  Biener  off  his  feet.  I  am  strengthened  in  this  belief  by  the  position 
of  the  two  a-*  I  saw  them  fly  past." 

Accidents  of  this  nature,  I  apprehend,  will  recur,  and  may  become  man 
frequent  than  heretofore  through  the  '  facilitations,'  the  multiplication  of 
cabanes,  and  increased  vulgarisation  of  the  mountain. 

Routes  up  thk  Mattkrhorn. — The  route  which  is  now  followed  on  the 
Northern  or  Zermatt)  side,  so  far  as  the  foot  of  the  final  peak,  is  the  same  as 
that  which  was  taken  on  the  First  Ascent  ;  but  there  (about  800  feet  below 
the  summit),  instead  of  bearing  away  on  to  the  northern  face  (that  over- 
looking the  Matterhorngletscher),  the  tourist  now  clambers  up  directly 
towards  the  summit,  by  means  of  fixed  ropes  and  chains. 


SCHAMULKS   AMoXdST   THE  ALPS.  aitknmv 

After  starting  Bram  Zermtftt,  1 1 1 « -  Btaeam  bom  the  Z'.Mutt  Vail. 
Cloned  by  a  bridge  which  is  commonly  termed  the  Matterhorn  bridge,  Bad 
the  new  path  to  the  Hotel  at  the  Lac  Noir  i-  taken.  This  is  a  little  shorter 
than  the  old  path,  which  is  more  to  the  north.  From  the  Lac  Noir  then 
is  a  path  up  to  the  Hornli  ridge,  and  this  ridge  is  followed  along  its  entire 
length  right  up  to  the  foot  of  the  Matterhorn.  In  passing  bono  the  end  of 
the  ridge  on  to  the  actual  peak,  the  exact  ledges  are  traversed  over  which  1 
nivxlf  led  upon  the  first  ascent,  and  the  track  presently  passes  close  \o  the 
spot  where  my  tent  was  placed  on  July  13-14,  1865.  The  route  then 
slightly  descends  (to  turn  the  rib  which  is  mentioned  upon  p.  375  as 
intercepting  the  view  of  the  eastern  face  from  our  tent -platform),  and 
afterwards  goes  rather  closer  to  the  arSte  of  the  north-east  ridge  than  we 
went  in  1865.  We  bore  more  away  on  to  the  east  face,  and  proceeded  more 
directly  towards  the  foot  of  the  final   peak. 

So  long  back  as  1874  there  was  a  strongly-marked  track  (amounting  in 
BOOM  places  to  a  path)  along  the  Hornli  ridge  and  up  the  East  Face  to 
the  cabane  which  was  first  erected;1  and  little  piles  of  stones,  placed  in 
prominent   situations,  pointed  out  the  way  even  to  the  dullest  person. 

In  1874,  1876,  and  in  1892,  I  revisited  the  tent-platform  which  was 
used  on  July  13-14,  1865.  In  the  two  former  years  the  wall  of  stones 
which  was  built  around  the  platform  was  still  standing,  and  my  initials 
were  to  be  seen  on  the  rock  behind;  but  in  1892  I  found  it  difficult  to 
recognise  the  spot.  By  natural  decay,  the  platform  was  nearly  obliterated, 
and  the  inscribed  rock  had   fallen  down.'-' 

On  the  southern  side  so  much  rock  has  broken  away  from  the  (trite 
between  the  Col  du  Lion  and  the  Great  Tower  that  it  is  now  possible  to 
mount  this  ridge  without  passing  through  '  the  Chimney,'  and  I  found 
at  my  last  visit  that  the  Chimney  itself  had  partly  disappeared. 

With  the  exception  of  deviations  that  arise  through  such  causes,  the 
route  which  is  now  usually  followed  on  the  Southern  (or  Breuil)  side,  is  (so 
far  as  the  foot  of  the  final  peak)  the  same  as  that  which  was  taken  upon 
the  ascents  by  Jean  -  Antoine  Carrel  and  Bich  in  ]8(>f>,  and  by  Mr. 
Craufurd  Grove  in  1867.  On  the  final  five  or  six  hundred  feet  several 
variations  have  been  tried,  some  of  which  have  already  been  mentioned/' 
I  was  informed  by  J.  B.  Bich  in  Oct.  1892,  that  there  were  at  that  time 
ropes  fixed  in  no  less  than  eight  places  upon  this  side  of  the  mountain. 
The  hut  on  the  'cravate'  still  exists,  and  there  is  another  at  the  foot  of 
the  Great  Tower.  A  third  one  has  been  erected  a  few  hundred  feet  Ixdow 
the  base  of  the  Great  Tower,  upon  the  position  that  was  formerly  occupied 
by  my  second  tent-platform.  A  view  of  this  cabane  is  given  in  niv  Guide 
t<>  the    Valley  of  Zermalt  and  the  Matterhorn. 

1  In  1893,  the  old  hut  on  the  east  face  was  full  of  ice,  and  could  not  be  used. 

8  It  was  reinstated  l>y  Franz  Biener  and  his  son.  It  is  420  feet  lusher  than  the 
cabane  on  the  Hornli  ridge. 

*  Another  was  discovered  in  July  1887,  by  J.  B.  Maquignaz,  J.  B.  Perruquet,  and 
J.  Aymonod,  which  goes  diagonally  up  the  precipice  faciug  Breuil,  and  is  more  to  the 
south  and  east  than  the  other  routes  up  the  final  peak. 


APPENDIX. 


THE  ZERMATT  RAILWAY. 


421 


The  Zermatt  Railway,  wliich  was  opened  in  July  1891,  lias  rendered 
access  more  easy,  and  has  largely  increased  the  nuinl>er  of  visitors.  From 
a  statement  supplied  to  me  by  the  Company,  it  appears  that  the  Railway 
carried  33,695  persons  in  1891,  and  38,095  in  1892.  Since  then,  the 
traffic  lias  increased  very  considerably. 


ON   THE   ZERMATT   RAILWAY,    BETWEEN*   STALDF.N    AND    KALI'ETKAN. 

The  line  runs  from  the  Jura-Simplon  station  at  Viege  (Visp)  to  tin- 
northern  end  of  Zermatt,  and  is  35  kilometres  (or  22  miles  nearly)  in  length. 
There  are  stations  at  Stalden,  Kalpetran,  St  Nicholas,  Herbriggen,  Randa 
and  Taesch.  The  difference  of  level  between  Viege  and  Zermatt  (3200  feet) 
might  have  been  overcome  by  a  ruling  gradient  of  1  in  36.  If  anything 
like  this  had  been  employed,  very  heavy  and  costly  works  would  have  been 
necessary ;  but  they  have  been  avoided  by  adopting  the  systeme  Abt.1 
Though  short  tunnels  are  numerous,  there  are  no  great  cuttings  or  embank- 
ments on  the  Zermatt  Railway.  The  principal  bridge  crosses  a  torrent 
.  Muhlebach)  wliich  falls  into  the  Vispbach  about  half-way  between  Stalden 
and  Kalpetran.  This  is  220  feet  long,  and  144  feet  above  the  bottom  of 
the  ravine. 

The  Abt  system  aims  at  the  avoidance  of  heavy  works.  Where  the 
ground  is  flat  the  line  skims  the  surface,  and  where  there  is  an  abrupt  rise 
in  the  floor  of  the  valley  there  are  steep  gradients  ujion  which  a  third, 
cogged  rail  (cremaillhe)  is  laid.     The  line  presents  therefore  a  succession  of 

1  It  is  inteiuled  to  adopt  the  systintr  Abt  on  the  upjwr  portion  of  the  Trans-Andean 
Railway,  which  is  to  connect  Buenos  Ayres  and  Valparaiso. 


4SS 


.«i;ami:i.i;s  amoxust  the  a l.rs. 


AITI.NM.V 


moderate  inelines  ami  reiy  rapid* ones.  In  BOine  places  the  railway  rises  as 
much  as  one  foot  in  eight.  The  third  rail  is  not  used  when  the  gradient! 
are  less  than  one  in  forty,  and  is  laid  over  only  five  miles.  It  is  composed 
<>f  two  plates  of  steel  which  are  bolted  together  in  such  a  maimer  that 
the  cogs  alternate.  The  engines  have  two  mechanisms  —  one  for  the 
ordinary  rails  and  the  other  for  the  cremaillere.  It  is  said  that  there 
are  never  less  than  four  cogs  or  teeth  biting  at  a  time.1 

Though  the  railway  itself  does  not  mar  the  beauty  of  the  valley,  it 
has  worked  mischief.  The  screech  of  the  locomotives  is  out  of  harmony 
with  the  surroundings.  Our  clientele  is  different,  say  the  hotelkeepers. 
Many  of  the  old  habitue's  have  been  driven  away.  Omnibuses  rumble 
through  "  the "  street,  and  cripples  whining  for  alms  invade  the  space 
which  was  once  the  Club-room  of  Zermatt. 

1  The  running  time,  both  up  and  doxon,  is  2  hours  40  minutes.  A  considerable 
part  of  this,  however,  is  consumed  in  stoppages  at  stations.  In  ascending  the  steep 
inclines  the  pace  drops  to  four  miles  an  hour  and  less.  Great  caution  is  used  in 
descending ;  and,  on  the  sections  with  the  cremaille>e,  the  trains  seldom  travel  so 
fast  as  three  miles  an  hour. 


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Si'h'AMULKS   AM'i.XdST   Till-:   A  LIS. 


APPENDIX 


D.    TABLE  OF  ATTEMPTS  MADE  TO  ASCEND  THE  MATTERHORN 
PREVIOUS  TO  THE  FIRST  ASCENT. 


»1 

Date. 

Names. 

.Side  upon  wliicli 
the  attempt  was 
made,  and  plate 
arrived  at. 

Qreateet 

height 

attained. 

Kkmarks. 

1 

1858-9. 

J.-Antoine  Carrel. 

Breuil  side  .     . 

12,650 

.1   attempts   were   made 

J. -Jacques  Carrel. 

'Chimney.' 

before  this  height  was  at- 
tained ;  the  men  concerned 

Victor  Carrel. 

cannot  remember  how  many. 

Gab.  Maquignaz. 

See  p.  7t>. 

1860. 

Abbe  Gorret. 

2 

July       .     . 

Alfred  Parker. 
Charles  Parker. 
Saudbach  Parker. 

Zermatt  sidi-     . 
East  face. 

11,500? 

Without  guides,     pp.  76-77. 

3 

August  .     . 

V.  Hawkins. 

Breuil  side  .      . 

12,992 

Guides      J.    J.    Bennen    and 

J.  Tyudall. 

Hawkins  got  to 

13,050  1 

J.-Jacques  Carrel,  pp.  77- 
79. 

foot   of  'Great 

Tower,'  Tyudall 
a  few  feet  higher. 

1861. 

4 

July      .     . 

Messrs.  Parker    .     . 

Zermatt  side    . 
East  face. 

11,700? 

No  guides,     p.  19. 

6 

Aug.  29      . 

J.-Antoine  Carrel. 
J.-Jacques  Carrel. 

Breuil  side  .     . 
'Crete  du  Coq.' 

13,230 

See  p.  87. 

6 

Aug.  29-30 
1862. 

Edward  Whyniper  . 

Breuil  side  .     . 

'Chimney.' 

12,650 

Camped  upon  the  mountain, 
with  an  Oberland  guide. 
pp.  82-87. 

7 

Jauuary 

T.  S.  Kennedy    .     . 

Zermatt  side    . 
East  face. 

11,000? 

Winter  attempt,    pp.  88-89. 

8 

July  7-8    . 

R.  J.  S.  Macdonald. 

I'.rctiil  side  .      . 

12,000 

Guides  —  Johann    zum    Taug- 

Edward  Whymper. 

Arete  below 

'Chimney.' 

wsld  and  Johnnu  Kronig. 
pp.  M46. 

9 

July  9-10. 

R.  J.  S.  Macdonald. 

Breuil  side  .     . 

12,992 

Guides— J. -A.  Carrel  and  Pes- 

Edward  Whymper. 

'Great  Town.' 

sion.    pp.  95-96. 

»> 

July  18-19 

M                         »> 

Breuil  side  .     . 

Somewhat  higher 
than  the  lowest 
partof  the  '  • 'la- 
va te.' 

13,400 

Alone,    pp.  97-108. 

10 

July  23-24 

Breuil  side  .     . 

13,150 

Guides— J. -A.   Carrel,   Ciesar 

•Crete  du  Coq.' 

Carrel,  and  Luc  Meynet.  p. 
110. 

11 

July  25-26 

„ 

Breuil  side  .     . 

13,460 

With  Luc  Meynet.  pp.  11'-'- 
118. 

Nearly  as  high  as 

the  highest  part 

of  the  'Cravatc.' 

12 

July  27-28 

J.  Tyudall      .     .     . 

Hreuil  ride .     . 
"The    8hniil<l"i.' 

to  foot  of  filial 

peak. 

13,970 

Guides—  J.  .1.  BenMB  ami 
Anton  Walter  ;  porters — 
J.  -  Antoine  Carrel,  Ca-sar 
Carrel,   and    another,      pp. 

1863. 

118-1  Hi,  U04L 

13 

Aug.  10-11 
1865. 

Edward  Whymper  . 

Breuil  side  .     . 
'  Crete  du  Coq.' 

13,280 

Guides  — J. -A.  Carri'l,  Ciesar 
Carrel,  Luc  Meynet,  ami 
two  porters,     pp.  1664(6. 

14 

June  21 

" 

South-east  face. 

11,200? 

Guides  — Michel  Croz,  Chris- 
tian Aimer,  Kranz  Hiener  ; 
porter—  Luc  Meynet.  pp. 
277-80. 

appendix.  TABLE  OF  ASCENTS. 

E.     ASCENTS  OF  THE  MATTERHORN. 


\->-> 


No.  of 

Ascent. 

Data. 

Names. 

Route  taken. 

Remahks. 

1865. 

1 

July  13-15 

Lard  Fram-is  Douglas. 

Zennatt 

(iuicles— Michel  Croz,  Peter  Tatigwalder 

D.  Hadow. 

(or  Northern 

pin,  and   Peter  Taugwalder  JUs.     See 

Charles  Hudson. 

route). 

pp.  372-92. 

Bid  ward  Whymper. 

2 

July  16-18 

Jean-Antoine  Carrel. 

Breuil 

The  first  two  named  only  ascended  to  the 

J.  Baptiste  Bich. 

(or  Southern 

summit.     .See  pp.  402-404. 

Ame  Gorret. 

route). 

J.-Augustin  Meyuet. 

1867. 

3 

Aug.  13-15 

F.  Craufurd  Grove. 

Breuil. 

Guides — J.-A.  Carrel,  Salomon  Meyuet, 
and  J.  B.  Bich. 

4 

Sept.  12-14 

J. -Jos.  Maquignaz. 
J. -Pierre  Maquignaz. 
Victor  Maquignaz. 

Breuil. 

An  easier  route  was  discovered  by  this 
party  than  that  token  upon  July  17, 

1865.  The  first  two  named  only 
ascended  to  the  summit.    See  pp.  407-8. 

Caesar  Carrel. 

J.-B.  Carrel. 

5 

Oct.  1-3     . 
1868. 

W.  Leighton  Jordan. 

BreuQ. 

Guides  — the  Maquignaz's  just  named, 
Caesar  Carrel,  and  P.  Ansennin.  The 
Maquignaz's    and    Mr.  Jordan   alone 

reached  the  summit. 

6 

July  24-25 

J.  M.  Elliott  .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides  — Jos.  Marie  Lochmatter  and 
Peter  Knubel. 

7 

July  26-28 

J.  Tyndall      .     .     . 

Up  Breuil  side 
and  down  Zer- 
matt side. 

Guides  —  J.-Jos.,  J.-Pierre  Maquignaz, 
and  three  others. 

8 

Aug.  2-4    . 

0.  Hoiler. 

Up  Zermatt  side 

Account  given  in  the  hotel-book  at  Breuil 

F.  Thioly. 

and     down 
Breuil  side. 

is  not  very  clear.  Guides  seem  to  have 
been  J.-Jos.  and  Victor  Maquignaz  and 
Elie  Pession. 

9 

Aug.  3-4    . 

G.  E.  Foster  .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

(Tntflon  TTann  Baumann,  Peter  Bernett, 
and  Peter  Knubel. 

10 

Aug.  8  .     . 

Paul  Guessfeldt  .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Jos.  Marie  Loclunatter,  Nicli. 
Knubel,  and  Peter  Knubel. 

11 

Sept.  1  -  2   . 

A.  G.  Girdlestone. 
F.  Craufurd  Grove. 
W.  E.  U.  Kelso. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Jos.  Marie  Lochmatter  and  two 
Knubels. 

12 

Sept.  2-3   . 

G.  B.  Marke  .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Nich.  Knubel  and  Pierre  Zur- 
briggen  (Saas). 

13 

Sept.  3-5   . 

F.  Giordano  .     .     . 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guides— J.-A.  Carrel  and  J.-Jos.  Maquig- 
naz.    See  p.  410. 

14 

Sept.  8-9  . 
1869. 

Paul  Sauzet    .     .     . 

Breuil. 

Guides— J.-A  Carrel  and  J.-Jos.  Maquig- 
naz. 

15 

July  20      . 

James  Eccles      .     . 

Breuil. 

Cuiles  -J.-A.  Carrel,  Bich,  and  two 
Payots  (Cluimounix). 

16 

Aug.  26-27 
1870. 

R.  B.  Heathcote      . 

Breuil. 

(iui. lis— J.Jos.,  J.-Pierre,  Victor,  and 
Emmanuel  Maquignaz. 

17 

July  22-23 

E.  Javelle  .... 

/.'  rmatt. 

Guide— Nich.  Knubel. 

3  I 


116  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  unmxtx. 

ASCENTS  OF  THE  MATTERHORN  (continw 


eaeeat 

Date. 

Name*. 

Route  taken. 

1871. 

18 

July  16-17 

K.  I;.  Whitwell   .     . 

Zi  nnatt. 

Guides— Ulrich  and  Christian  Lauener. 

19 

July  21-22 

F.  Gardiner. 
F.  Walker. 
Lucy  Walker. 

Zermatt. 

(iiiiiles  —  Peter  Perm,  P.  Knubel,  N. 
KmuIm-i,  Kalchlor  Anderagg,  and  Bebi- 

rich  Anderegg. 

20 

? 

—  Fowler      .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— C.  Knubel  and  J.  M.  Lochmatter. 

21 

Aug.  2  .     . 

W.E.Utterson-Kelso 
A.  G.  Girdlestone. 

Breuil. 

Guides  Victor  and  Eininanuel  Maquig- 
naz  and  Joseph  Gillioz. 

22 

Aug.  7-8   . 

R.  S.  Lyle      .     .     . 

Breuil. 

Guides— J.-J.  Maquignaz,  Victor  Maquig- 
naz,  and  Augustin  Anseriuin. 

23 

Aug.  18-19 

C.  E.  Mathew  >. 
F.  Morshead. 

Breuil. 

Guides -J. -A.  Carrel  an<l  Melchior  An- 
deregg,  with  two  i>orters. 

24 

Aug.  28-29 

Q  T.  Dent      .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Franz  and  Alex.  Burgener. 

25 

Sept.  4  -  5  . 

M.  C.  Brevoort. 
W.  A.  B.  Coolidge. 

Zermatt  to 
Breuil. 

Guides— Christian  Aimer,  Ulrich  Aimer, 
and  N.  Knubel. 

26 

Sept.  5     ? 

Lord  Weutworth     . 

Breuil. 

Guides— J.-J.  and  J. -Pierre  Maquignaz. 

27 

Sept.  7-8  . 
1872. 

R.  Fowler.     .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— J.  M.  Lochmatter  and  P.  Knubel. 

28 

July  21     ? 

H.  Bicknell    .     .     . 

? 

Guides — Not  known. 

29 

July  22-23 

F.  Gardiner. 
T.  Middlemore. 

Zermatt  to 
Breuil. 

Guides — J.-J.  Maquignaz,  Peter  Knubel, 
and  Johann  Jauu. 

30 

July  24-25 

R.  Pendlebury. 
W.  M.  Pendlebury. 
C.  Taylor. 

Zermatt  to 
Breuil. 

Guides  —Peter  Taugwalder  fits,  Gabriel 
Spechtenhauser,  and  F.  Imseng. 

;n 

July  26     | 

J.  Jackson      .     .     . 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guides— J. -Jos.  Maqulgnai  and  Antoa 
Kitz. 

32 

July  26-27 

F.  A.  Wallroth  .     . 

Zermatt. 

Gui<les—  Nicholas  and  P.  Knubel. 

33 

Aug.  29-30 

A.  Rothschild     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Franz  Biener  and  two  Knuhels. 

34 

S.-pt.  1-2   . 

G.  A.  Passingliain    . 

Zermatt 

Guides— F.  Imseng  and  Franz  Ander- 
matteTi. 

85 

Sept.  9-10. 

II.  Denning. 
E.  Hutdiins. 
J.  Young. 

Zermatt 

Guhles  -Melchior  8chlapp,  Peter  Kubi, 
and  two  Knubels. 

M 

s.pt.  10-11 

L.  Saunderson     .     . 

Zermatt 

Guides— Peter  Bohrenand  Peter  Knuliel. 

37 

Sept.  11 -12 

E.  Millidge     .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guide Pollinger. 

APPENDIX. 


TABLE  OF  ASrEXTS. 


427 


ASCENTS  OF  THE  MATTERHORN  (continued). 


No.  of 
Ascent. 


40 

41 
42 
43 
44 
45 
46 
47 

48 
49 

50 
51 

52 
53 

54 
55 
56 

57 
58 


Date. 


Names. 


1872. 

38  Sept.  11 -12 

39  Sept.  16-17 

1873. 
July  6-7    . 


D.  J.  Abercromby 
C.  Bronzet      .     . 

T.  Cox. 

F.  Gardiner. 

C.  Theraulaz  . 


July  6-7 

July  21-22  I  A.  F.  Leach    . 

July  21-22    T.  A.  Bishop  . 


July  22-23 
July  23-24 
July  25-26 
July  25-27 

July  29-30 
Aug.  3  .     . 

Aug.  6-7  . 
Aug.  8     ?  . 

Aug.  9-10. 
Aug.  11      . 

Aug.  11-12 
Aug.  14-15 
Aug.  15-16 

Aug.  16 
Aug.  18-22 


A.  G.  Puller  . 
H.  Salmond  . 
E.  Leatham  . 
W.  W.  Simpson 

M.  Dechy  .     . 

J.  Bischoff. 

E.  Burckhardt. 
Emile  Veyrin 

A.  Pession. 
L.  Albin. 

L.  Ewbank     .     . 

G.  E.  Hulton. 

F.  C.  Hulton. 

Marquis  Maglioni 

F.  Dawkins    .     . 

J.  F.  Bramstou. 
F.  Morshead. 
C.  H.  Hawkins. 

H.  S.  Hoare  .     . 

E.  Pigeon. 
A.  Pigeon. 


Route  taken. 


Remarks. 


Zermatt.         Guides— N.  Knubel  and  P.  .1.  Knubel. 


Zermatt.         Guides  — P.  Knubel,  F.  Trofler,  and  J. 
Truffer. 


Zermatt.         Guides— Peter  Knubel  and  J.  M.  Loch- 
matter. 

Zermatt.         Guides— J.  Gillot  and  Ignace  Sarbach. 

Zermatt.        Guides  —  P.  Taugwalder  Ah  and  J.  M. 
Kronig. 

Zermatt.        Guides— P.  Knubel,  P.  J.  Knubel,  and  F. 
Devouassoud. 

Breuil.  Guides — J.-A.  Carrel  &  J. -Jos.  Maquignaz. 

Breuil.        :  Guides— J.  B.  Bich  and  two  others. 

Zermatt.         Guides— P.  Knubel  and  Joseph  Imboden. 

BreuU  to         Guides— J.-A.  Carrel,  J.- P.  Maquignaz, 
Zermatt.  anc*  a  Chamounix  guide. 

Zermatt.         Guides— J.-A.  Carrel  and  P.  Taugwalder 
fits. 

Zermatt.        Guides — No  information. 

Zermatt.        Guides  —  P.    J.    Knubel ;    porter,   Joh. 
Knubel. 

Breuil.  Guides — J.-J.  and  J.-Pierre  Maquignaz. 

Zermatt.         Guides— J.  M.  and  Alex.  Lochmatter. 


Zermatt.         Guides  —  Ch.  Lauener,  Joliann   Fischer, 
and  Peter  Rubi. 

Zermatt.         Guides  — P.  Knubel,  Edouard  Cnpelin  ; 
porter,  H.  Knubel. 

Zermatt.         Guides  — Franz   Andermatten,   A.   Bur- 
gener  ;  porter,  Abraham  Imseng. 

Zermatt.         Guides— Melchior  Anderegg,  B.  Nageli, 
and  J.  M.  Lochmatter. 


Zermatt.         Guides  —  Johann    von    Bergen    and    A. 
Pollinger. 

Breuil  to        Guides— J.-A.  Carrel,  V.  Maquignaz,  ami 
Zermatt.  J«  Martin.    This  party  was  confined  in 

the  hut  on  the  Italian  side  from  the 
18th  to  the  21st  of  August,  by  bad 
weather;  and  in  descending  upon  the 
Zermatt  side  it  was  surprised  by  night 
before  the  cabane  could  be  reached, 
and  had  to  pass  the  night  on  the  open 
mountain-side. 


4i'S 


>•'•/,'. I. V/;/./-:s  AMONQBT  THE  ALPS. 


A  II   I  EHDIX. 


ASCENTS  OF  THE  MATTERHORN  (continued). 


IteU*.                       Name*. 

Route  taken. 

Rrmarkh. 

1>7:{. 

.v.. 

Aug.  22-23 

F.  P.  Barlow .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Jakob  Anderegg  and   I'.  Taug- 
\\;i\(\i-r  flit. 

60 

Oct  2-3     . 

1874. 

W.  W.  Stuart     .     . 

Breuil  bo 

Zcrinatt. 

QnidM  -J. -Jos.  Maquignaz,  F.  Bich,  ami 
Job.  italinat. 

61 

.July  18-U 

J.  Brebner. 
M.  Cannon. 

Zcrinatt. 

lini.les— F.  Burgener  and  .J.  Barbaefc. 

62 

July  14-15 

T.  G.  Bonney      .     . 

Zennatt. 

OaidM  —J.  M.  Lochmatter  and  .1.  I 

63 

July  17-18 

F.  Wolf     .... 

Zcrinatt. 

Guides— A.  Pollinger  and  Jos.  Lauber. 

64 

July  IS- 19 

A.  Millot  awl  wife  . 

Zermatt. 

Guides     Melchior  Anderegg,  A.  Maurcr. 
and  P.  Taugwalderji'/jf. 

65 

July     ?      . 

H.  Lamb  .... 

? 

Guides— Not  known. 

66 

July  19-20 

J.  Baumann   .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guide— Ulrich  Lauener. 

67 

July  23-24 

E.  Javelle. 
Tli.  Bornand. 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guides— Gillioz,  ]*re  etfllt. 

68 

July  27-29 

L.  K.  Rankine    .     . 

Zermatt. 

<;nides— A.  Pollinger  and  Jos.  Langen. 

69 

Aug.  7-8   . 

G.  F.  Cobb. 

S.  Forster. 
A.  M.  Tod. 

Zermatt. 

(i  aides— P.  Taugwalder  flit,   Jos.  TtUS> 
walder,  and  A.  SSummermattcr. 

70 

Aug.  7  .     . 

J.  Birkbeck,  Jun.    . 

Breuil  to 
Breuil. 

liuides— J.  Petrus  and  J.  B.  Bicli.    Mr. 
Birkbeck  and  his  guides  started  from 
Breuil,  crossed   the   mountain    to   the 
northern  side,  and  returned  to  Breuil, 
in  19  hours. 

71 

Aug.  7-8    . 

M.  Bramston .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guide— B.  Nageli. 

72 

Aug.  12      . 

G.  Devin    .... 

Zermatt. 

Guides— L.  Pollinger  and  Henri  Seraphin. 

73 

Aug.  19-20 

L  X.  Walford    .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Alex.  Bnrgener  and  B.  Vemtz. 

74 

Aug.  20-21 

A.  D.  Puckle .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— J.  Petrus  and  N.  Knubel. 

::. 

Aug.  20-21 

H.  Lindt    .... 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Ig.  Sarbach  and  Peter  Sulzcr. 

76 

Aug.  20-22 

Edward  \Vlivni]>.i   . 

Zcrinatt. 

Guides    J. -A.  CarreL  J.  B.  Hek,  and  .J. 
M.   LochmaCter.     An  ascent  ma<le  for 
the  sake  of  photography.     Passe<l  two 
nights  in  the  Zermatt  M 

77 

Aug.  21-22 

Robert  Fowler    .     . 

Breuil  to 
Zcrinatt. 

Guides — Ixiuis  Carrel  and  Victor  Maquig- 
naz ;  porter,  Angnatia  Anaermin. 

78 

Aug.  21-23 

Prof.  G.  Boll.-     ' 
Prof.  K  —     T 

Breuil. 

Guidee     P.   Mai|tiignaz.   K.   Psstion.  ami 

i  ii.,                     count  is  ilVsglnln 

7'.' 

Aug.  22-23 

W.  E.  Davidson  .     . 

Zermatt. 

QuJdei  -Laurent  Lanier  and  Ig.  Sarbach. 

80 

Aug.  28 

P.  \V.  H.adl.y. 
E.  P.  Arnold. 

Zermatt. 

(iuides     A.  Pollinger  :m<l  .1.  .1.  Trntl'er. 

APPENDIX. 


TABLE  OF  ASCENTS. 


429 


ASCENTS  OF  THE  MATTERHORN  (continued). 


Bo.  of 

Ascent.1 

Date. 

N:i! 

Route  taken. 

Remarks. 

1874. 

81 

Aug.  25 

H.  J.  Smith  .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — Alex.  Lochinatter  and  Jos.  Liin- 
gen. 

Aug.  25 

M.  J.  Boswell     .     . 

Zermatt. 

(Snides — Jos.  Imboden  and  Jos.  Sarbach. 

"83 

Aug.  26      . 

W.  J.  Lewis  .    .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides  —  Moritz  Julen  and  Jos.  Taug- 
walder. 

84 

Aug.  27 

W.  Stirling     .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — Johann  Petrus  and  Franz  Bur- 
gener. 

85 

Aug.  27      ' 

A.  E.  Martelli     .     . 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guides — J.- J.  Maquignaz  and  Salomon 
Meynet. 

Mi 

Aug.  28 

J.  H.  Pratt. 
G.  W.  Prothero. 

Zermatt. 

Guides  —  J. -A.  Carrel  and  P.  Knubel. 
Ascent  made  in  one  day. 

87 

Aug.  31 

H.  N.  Malan  .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — Jean  Martin  and  Alex.  Loch- 
matter. 

88 

Sept.  2  .     . 

E.  Dent. 
C.  T.  Deut. 

Zermatt. 

Guide — A.  Burgener. 

89 

Sept.  2  .     . 

J.  W.  Borel   .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — A.  Pollinger  and  J.  J.  Truffer. 

90 

Sept.  1-2   . 

W.  A.  Lewis  .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides  — J.  M.  Lochinatter  and  P.  Iin- 
boden. 

91 

Sept.  3  .     . 

Ernst  Calbenla   .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— P.  Bohren  and  P.  Midler. 

92 

Sept.  8  .     . 

A.  H.  Simpson. 
M.  Cullinan. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— P.  Knubel,  P.  J.  Knubel,  and  P. 
Truffer. 

93 

Sept.  8  .     . 

A.  H.  Burton      .     . 

Zermatt. 

(Snides— P.  Kallmann,  P.  Tangwalder,  and 
B.  Nageli. 

94 

Sept.  9  .     . 

E.  Pigeon. 
A.  Pigeon. 

Zermatt. 

(Snides— N.  and  J.  Knubel,  and  F.  Sar- 
bach. 

95 

Sept.  16-17 
1875. 

W.  Nageli       .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

(Snides— J.  and  P.  Knubel. 

96 

May  10 

G.  Corona. 
E.  Santelli. 

Breuil. 

Guides— J.-A.  Carrel,  J. -J.  and  J. -Pierre 
Maquignaz. 

97 

Aug.  2-3    . 

L.  Briosclii     .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

(Snides  — F.  and  A.  Imseng.  and  P.  J. 
Andennatten. 

M 

Aug.  10      . 

J.  \Y.  Hartley     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— P.  Rubi  and  J.  Moser. 

99 

Aug.  10-11 

F.  T.  Wethered  .      . 

Zermatt. 

( inides—  Christian  Almerand  A.  NHagar. 

100 

Aug.  11 

A.  Fairbanks. 
W.  Fairbanks. 

Zermatt. 

Guide — J.  Perm,  and  a  porter. 

101 

Aug.  IS      . 

D.  L.  Piekman    .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides—  J.  Taugwalder  and  F.  Biem-r. 
Ascent  made  in  mie  day. 

102 

Aug.  16 

D.  Merritt      .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— No  information. 

103 

Aug.  16 

E.  Hornby      .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

(Snides—  A.  and  F.  I'nllin^.-i. 

104 

Aug.  Lfl 

J.  J.  Morgan. 
C.  L.  Morgan. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— J.  Imboden  and  J.  Sarbach. 

430  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  appendix. 

ASCENTS  OF  TrfE  MATTERHORN  (continusd). 


No.  of 

AsO'llt. 

Date. 

Names. 

Route  taken. 

Remarks. 

1875. 

ior» 

Aug.  16      . 

A.  W.  Payne .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guide— J.  Taugwalder. 

106 

Aug.  17      . 

J.  H.  Pratt. 
W.  Leaf. 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guides— J. -A.  Carrel  and  N.  Kuubel. 

107 

Aug.  19-20 

F.  Tendron. 
<  1 .  F.  Vernon. 

Zermatt. 

Cni.l.s  -F.  and  P.  Sarbach  and  J.  Tan- 
walder. 

108 

Aug.  23-24 

H.  R.  Whitfliousc   . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— P.  J.  KmiM  and  P.  T.  TruftVr. 

109 

Aug.  26-27 

!•'.  M'Tshead. 
A.  O.  Prickard. 
H.  S.  Wilson. 

Zi-rinatt. 

Qnldai  -  Melchior   Anderegg,   Christian 
Lauetier,  and  J.  Moser. 

110 

Aug.  29 

L.  Bruno  .... 

Breuil. 

Guides— J.-Pierre  Maquipiaz  nml     ?     . 

111 

Sept  7  .     . 

H.  G.  Gotcl.  .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Ig.  and  Jos.  Harbach. 

112 

Sept.  8  .     . 

R.  King     .... 

Zermatt. 

(ini.l.s  -J.-A.  Carrel  and  Jos.  Coaltar; 
I>orter,  A.  Payot. 

113 

Sept.  8  .     . 

H.  Loschge     .     .     . 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guides— J.  Petrus  and  A.  Rjinier. 

114 

Sept.  9  .     . 

P.  Methuen    .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Johann  Jaun  and  A.  Maurer. 

115 

Sept.  14      . 

—  Butter  .... 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Jos.  Imboden  and  J.  Brantschen. 

116 

Sept.  15      . 
1876. 

W.  Kittan      .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— J.  Petrus  and  Franz  BmgsjMr. 

117 

June  24     ? 

L.  Brioschi     .     .     . 

Breuil. 

Guides— J. -J.  and  J.-Pierre  Maquignaz. 

118 

July  18     ? 

C.  Perazzi .... 

Breuil. 

Guides  — J.-Pierre  and  Emmanuel   Mn- 

iprtgmn 

119 

July  22-23 

A.  H.  Cawood. 
J.  B.  Colgrove. 
A.  Cust. 

Zermatt. 

Without  guides,  and  with  two  porters. 

120 

.July  29      . 

J.  Hazel. 

W.  F.  Loverell. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— J. -P.  Maquignaz  and  F.  Zuber. 

121 

July  30      . 

Eug.  Dacque  .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Borren  (Bohren  ?) and  Platter (?). 

1 29 

Aug.  3-4    . 

F.  Corl.ett. 
M.  Courtenay. 

Km1  witt 

Guides— F.  Bui^ener,  P.  Tau>; walder  fil*. 
ami  .i.  nragwcldar. 

m 

Aug.  3-4    . 

P.  A.  Singer. 
P.  A.  Singer. 

Zermatt. 

Guides  — J.    InilHMleii.    Jos.    IVmi,    P. 
Perm  ;  jwrter,  K.  1'errn. 

121 

Aug.  6-7    . 

D.  E.  Cardinal    .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Pierre  Carrel  and  I/iuis  Carrel. 

125 

Aug.  7  .     . 

V.  n.iners. 
M.  Hausliofer. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— P.  and  J.  Knubel. 

126 

Aug.  7-8    .  ! 

L  de  Notaras     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Ferrlinand  and  Abraham  Iinseng. 

APPKNMX. 


TAHLE  OF  ASCENTS. 


431 


ASCENTS  OF  THE  MATTERHORN  (continued). 


No.  of 
AMOBt. 

Date. 

Names. 

Route  taken. 

Remarks. 

1876. 

127 

Aug.  8-9    . 

H.  de  Saussure    .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— A  Burgener  and  J.  Knubel. 

128 

Aug.  8-9    . 

W.  Cooke .... 

Zermatt. 

Guides—  Louis  Carrel  and  Pierre  Carrel. 

129 

Aug.  8-9    . 

J.  J.  Bischoff      .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides  — P.  Petrus,  P.  T.  Truffer,  and 
another. 

130 

Aug.  9  .     . 

Joseph  Seiler      .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — Lauber  and  ?  .  An  one-day 
ascent. 

131 

Aug.  9-10. 

W.  J.  Whelpdale. 
C.  Weightmann. 

Zermatt. 

Guides — J.  M.  Lochinatter,  A.  Ritz,  and 
Jos.  Brautscheu  as  porter. 

132 

Aug.  10 

P.  Watson      .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — Alex.  Burgener  and  B.  Venetz. 

133 

Aug.  12 

S.  Waller  .... 

Zermatt. 

Guides — J.  M.  Lochinatter  and  J.  Lauber. 

134 

Aug.  12     ? 

C.  Magnaghi  .     .     . 

Breuil. 

Guides— J.  B.  Bich  and     ?    . 

135 

Aug.  12      . 

H.  Meyer. 
C.  Estertag. 

Zermatt. 

Guides — Jos.  Brantschen,  P.  J.  Knubel, 
and  Jos.  Taugwalder. 

136 

Aug.  12      . 

J.  Jackson. 
T.  H.  Kitson. 

Zermatt. 

Guides  —  Christian  and  Ulrich  Aimer. 
Ascent  in  one  day. 

137 

Aug.  12 

Jos.  Nantermod .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — A  Pollingerand  B.  Andeninatten. 

138 

Aug.  14 

C.  E.  Mathews. 
F.  Morshead. 

Zermatt. 

Guides  —  Melchior  Anderegg  and  Peter 
Anderegg.    Ascent  made  in  one  day. 

139 

Aug.  15-17 

H.  S.  Wilson.     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — J.  Moser  and  J.  Taugwalder. 

140 

Aug.  16 

G.  W.  Prothero  .     . 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guide— J. -A.  Carrel.  Left  Breuil  1.45 
a.m.,  and  arrived  Zermatt  7.20  p.m. 

141 

Aug.  18      . 

1877. 

Percy  W.  Thomas  . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — Jos.  Imboden  and  J.  Langen. 
Left  Zermatt  at  midnight  August  17, 
and  returned  at  4.40  pm.  on  August  18. 

142 

Aug.  2  .     . 

F.  Gonella      .     .     . 

Breuil. 

Guides — J.-J.  and  J.-Pierre  Maquignaz. 

143 

Aug.  4  .     . 

0.  Bornand. 
G.  Mermod. 
L.  Mermod. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— No  information. 

144 

Aug.  10-11 

W.  B.  Wildman .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guide — P.  Knubel ;  porter,  J.  Sarbach. 

145 

Aug.  13-14 

Q.  Sella. 
A.  Sella. 
Corradino  Sella. 
Carlo  Sella. 
L.  dell'  Oro. 
L.  Biraghi. 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guides — J. -A  Carrel,  V.  Imseng,  J.  B. 
Carrel,  Louis  Carrel,  J.-J.  and  Victor 
Maquignaz,  etc.  etc. 

146 

Aug.  15-16 

W.  Bruuuer. 
F.  Wyss. 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guides  —  Salomon  Meynet  and  A.  Im- 
boden ;  porters,  Cliarles  Gorret  and 
J.  IiiiLmhIi-h. 

147 

Aug.  16 

F.  Morshead. 

A.  du  Boulay  Hill. 

Zermatt. 

Guides  —  Melchior  Anderegg  and  Peter 
Anderegg. 

;:■•_> 


SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS, 


Mil  M'l.V 


NTS  OF  Tin:   M.\TTKi;lh»i;\    continued  . 


s 

Ascent. 

N 

BOOta  taken. 

Kkm  v  i 

1877. 

148 

Aug.  1!»      . 

W.  H.  QnafblL 

•i.  ll.  A.  Peebles. 

Bivuil. 

QuidM    Perdlnandand  Abraham  [mseng, 

•ad  A.  Manter. 

149 
150 

Aug.  20 
Aug.  20-21 

\V.  I'eiiliall     .     .     . 
W.  W.  Ford  .      .      . 

Zennatt. 

Zennatt. 

Guldea     Jos.    Iiuboden   end   l'.  Tann- 
waMsrjUa. 

Guide    Franz  I5i.-n.-i-,  and  a  porter. 

151 

Aug.  3 1   86 

C.  Fitzgerald       .      . 

Zennatt. 

Guides    .i.  \t.  Loetamatter  and  J 
Laabar. 

152 

Aug.  86     . 

Max  Rostiiiiiiiiiil 

Breuil  to 
Zennatt. 

Guides      Joseph    Bnintscli.-ii    and    Joe. 

Taagwalder. 

153 

154 
155 

Aug.  87 

Aug.  28     * 
Aug.  28      . 

Alfred  O'Gorman    . 

E.  Dora     i    .     .     . 
A.  Barran .... 

Zennatt 
to  Breuil. 

Breuil. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— A.  Imboden  and  another.    This 
party lefl  Zermatt al  midnight,  crossed 
to  the  Breuil  aide,  and  returned  t.. 
Zennatt   orer  the  BreaQJoeh    within 

twenty-four  hours. 
Guides--  .!.-.!.,   Victor,   and    Elinnaini.-l 

MaqoJgnajt 

Guides— J.  Sarbach  and  3.  I-augen. 

156 

Aug.  87-88 

('.  P.  Howard     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Gnidaa     V.  front  and  Joseph   Brant- 
scheu. 

157 

Aug.  29      . 

J.  A.  Cooper  .     .     . 

Zennatt. 

Giddea    Alex,  and  Alois  Burganar. 

158 

Aug.  30      . 

J.  D.  Grimtli.s     .     . 

Zennatt. 

Gnidaa— BaaQe  Andeninatb-n  and 

159 

Aug.  30      . 

F.  J.  Cullinaii     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides  —  Joseph  ami  Jolian  n  KnuU-1.    An 
aaoani  made  in  oaa  day. 

160 

Aug.  30      . 

.1.  F.  Yearsley     .     . 

Zennatt. 

Guides — P.    Biirgen.-r  and    P.  Andes- 

matteii  ;  jiorter,  —  Blunieiithal. 

161 

Aug.  30-31 

J.  C.  L*inan. 
Margaret  Leinan. 

Zermatt. 

Guides     V.  Bianer,  A.  Imseng,  J.   K. 
Kronig,  and  A.  Bollinger. 

162 

Aug.  30-31 

T.del  'anil nay  Digny 

Zermatt 
to  Breuil. 

( in idea  -J. -A.  Carrel  and  Henri  Seraphim 

m 

Sept  4    .     . 

.1.  Freitselike       .     . 

Zennatt. 

Guide— Basile  Asdenmattes. 

164 

Bept  4-5  . 

H.  Losclige    .     .     . 

Z.-rmatt 
to  Breuil. 

Guides     Alex.   Burganar  un«i  ■   Tyrol 
guide. 

165 

Sept.  6-7  . 

J.  Nerot    .... 

Breuil  to 
Zennatt. 

Guides    J.-A.  Carrel,  a  Chamoonis  guide, 
ami  a  ]Hirt'-r. 

166 

Sept.     ?     . 
1878. 

E.  P.  Jackson    and 

wit.-. 

Breuil  to 
Riffel. 

Gnidea     Ki-r>linand,  Abraham,  and   li.-n- 
.iainin  Imaeng,  and       Schlegal  (Inter- 

taken). 

167 

? 

T.  Jose      .... 

Zermatt. 

Guides     .1.   M.   I..h -Imiatter.   1*.   KiiuIh-I, 
and  Pi.i  i.-  Trntler. 

168 

Sept.  7  .     . 

(a.i  Beoke    .    .    . 

Z.-riuatt. 

Guide—  Basile  Andeliiiiat  t.-n. 

169 

Sept.  9  .     . 

-I ult--  Seiler    .     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides -1*.   Kliubel    and    Basile   And.-n- 
matteii. 

APPENDIX. 


TABLE  OF  ASCF.XTS. 


433 


ASCENTS  OF  THE  MATTERHORN  (continued). 


No.  of 

Date. 

Names. 

Route  taken. 

Remarks. 

.    1878. 

170 

Sept.  11 -12 

C.  J.  Thompson. 
C.  E.  Layton. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— J-. A. Carrel,  P.  Imseng,  J.  Moser, 
and  A.  Imseng. 

171 

Sept.  21      . 
1879. 

Dr.  Minnigerode 

Zermatt. 

G  uides— J.  M.  Lochmatter  and  J.  Tang- 
walder. 

173 

July  28-29 

Rob.  von  Lendenfeld. 
John  Taylor. 

Zermatt. 

Guides  — 8.   Santo,    P.  Taugwalder,   F. 
Imseng,  and  A.  Supersax. 

173 

Aug.  11-12 

\ 
R.  G.  Allan. 
B.  Allan. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Joseph  Moser  and  J.  Kohler. 

174 

Ang.  12-14 

Dr.  C.  Liischer. 
Prof.  H.  Schicss. 

Breuil  to 
Zermatt. 

Guides  — J.  M.  Lochmatter,  Jos.  Brant- 
schen,    and    P.    Beytrison    (Evolena). 
Brantschen  was  left  behind  in  the  hut 
on  the  "cravate,"  and  died  there.    See 
pp.  411-2. 

175 
176 

Aug.  12-13    J.  A.  Hutchison. 
Aug.  13      .  !  W.  W.  R.  Powell. 

Zermatt. 

Guides — P.  Taugwalder  fiU,  and  A.  Im- 
seng.   Mr.  Powell  made  the  ascent  in 
one  day. 

177 

Aug.  13-14    C.  E.  Freeman. 
:  A.  Sloman. 

Breuil  to 

Zermatt. 

Guides— J. -A.  Carrel  and  A.  Supersax. 

178 

Aug.  13-14  !  H.  C.  Warren     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guide— Jos.  Moser  ;  porter,  —  Moser. 

179 

Aug.  13-14    A.  E.  Craven. 
W.  0.  Moseley. 

Zermatt. 

Guides  —  P.  Rubi  and  C.  Inabnit.     Dr. 
Moseley  lost  his  life  in  descending  the 
mountain.    See' pp.  412-3. 

180 

Aug.  13-14    H.D.Gardner    .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides — Joseph  and  Gabriel  Taugwalder. 

181 

Aug.  15     ?     P.  Cornaglia  .     .     . 

Breuil  to 

Zermatt. 

Guides— J. -Pierre  and  Victor  Maquignaz. 

182 

Aug.  21-22    R.  Levy. 

A.  Jerusalem. 

Zermatt. 

Guides— Not  known. 

183 

Aug.  22      .    C.  Wilson. 

V.  E.  Wilson. 

Zermatt. 

Guides- -A.  Burgenerand  Jos.  Furrer. 

184 

Aug.  28-29    C.  E.  B.  Watson 

Zermatt 
to  Breuil. 

Guides— P.  Andereggand  A.  Imboden. 

185 

Aug.  30      .     H.  Latham.  Jr. 
G.  E.  Maude. 
K.  L  Vau<jhan. 
II.  C.  Willink. 

Zermatt. 

Guides  —  Carl   Hess,  Johann  Anderegg, 
and  a  porter. 

186 

Aug.  30-         \V.  Q.  Hutchinson  . 
Bept  1. 

Zermatt. 

Guide— Franz  Bietier :  jnirter,  P.  Taug- 
walder. 

187 

Aug.  30-       !  G.  H.  Savage      .     . 

s,,.t.  1. 

Zermatt. 

Guides — .Jos.  Imboden  and  Franz  Ander- 
inatten.        |)r.     BBlica     slept    on     the 
Hornli.  Aaomt  Wj   MfM  the  ascent 

liy  moonlight  at  a  little  tiefure  2  a.m. 
on  Septemlier  1,  reached  the  summit 
at  0.30  a.m.,  and   return,  d  to  Zermatt 
tiv  12.30  p.m. 

3k 


m 


SCHAMItLKS   AMONGST   THE   ALPS.  xppi.nmv 

ASCENTS  OF  TDK   M ATTKUHORN  (continued). 


No.  ■  <{ 

I*te. 

Nan>en. 

Bonte  taken. 

Remarks. 

1S79. 

188 

Btft  8-J   . 

\.  I'.  Mtammerj 

Z'Mntt  rfde. 

OuidM    Alexander  Burgn 

and  A.  Kentim-tta.  Mr.  Mummery 
«a>  the  first  to  ascend  the  Mafctorborn 
from  tli*-  tide  of  the  Z'Mntt  Qhuaer. 
See  pp.  418-4. 

189 

Sept  2-3  . 

W.  Penhall    .     .     . 

Z'Mntt  rids. 

OuidM  Ferdinand  [mMflfl  HMl  Louis 
Znrbrttoken.  Mr.  Penhall  took  a  route 
slightly  farther  to  the  south  than  that 

followed  by  Mr.  Mummery.   See  p.  414. 

190 

Sept.  2-3   . 

W.  H.  Grenfell  .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guide    Michel  C.  1'ayot,  and  a  porter. 

191 

Sept.  4  -  f.  . 

B.  Wainewright  .     . 

Zermatt 
to  Bmiil. 

OuidM    .Ins.  Imbodenand  Peter  Sarhach. 

192 

Sept.  4-  5  . 

II.  Iln.-ire  .... 

Zermatt. 

Guide    J.  Anderegg;  porter,  ■!'•■•.  Chan> 

ton. 

193 

Sept.  5-6  . 

1880. 

J.  Baunmnn  .     .     . 

Z'Mntt  ride. 

Guides  -J.  Petrol  ami  Emile  Rey. 

194 

July  19      . 

H.  Backhouse     .     . 

Zermatt. 

Guides— P.  Tangwalder  ami  A.  Pollinger. 

Note. — A  few  other  ascents  are  known  to  have  been  made  before  1880,  about 
which  it  has  not  been  found  possible  to  obtain  information. 


F.     Courte  Note  bur  la  Geologie  du  Matterhorx.     Par  Signor 
F.  Giordano,  Ingenieur  en  Chef  des  Mines  d'ltalie,  etc.  etc. 

Le  Matterhorn  ou  Mont  Cervin  est  forme  depuis  la  base  jusqu'au  soinnu't 
<le  roches  stratifie'es  en  bancs  assez  rc'guliers,  qui  sont  tous  lt'gerement  releves 
vers  l'Est,  savoir  vers  le  Mont  Rose.  Ces  roches  qnoiqa'evidemmeni  d'origine 
s.'dimentaire  out  une  structure  fortement  cristalline  qui  doit  etre  l'effet  d!une 
puissante  action  de  metamorphisme  tres-developpee  dans  cette  region  des 
Alpes.  Dans  la  serie  des  roches  constituantes  du  Mont  Cervin  Ton  pent  t';i in- 
line distinction  assez  marquee,  savoir  celles  formant  la  base  inferieure  de  la 
montagne,  et  celles  formant  le  pic  proprement  dit. 

Let  roches  de  la  base  qu'on  voit  dans  le  Val  Tournanche,  dans  le  vallon 
de  Z'Mutt,  au  col  de  Theodule  et  ailleurs,  sont  en  general  des  schistes  talqueux, 
serpent  ineux,  chloriteux,  et  amphiboliques,  alternant  fort  sou  vent  avec  des 
schistes  calcaires  a  noyeaux  quart  zeux.  ('es  schistes  calcaires  de  couleui 
brunatre  alternent  ca  et  la  avec  des  dolomies,  des  cargueules,  et  des  ipiaitzites 
tegulaires.  Cette  formation  calcareo-serpentineuse  est  tree  etendne  dans  les 
mrhtms.     Le  pic  an  contraire  est  tout  forme  d'un  gneiss  talqueux,  souvent  a 


aiikm.ix.  DEATH  OF  SIGNOK  F.  GIORDANO.  435 

gros  elements,  alternant  parfois  a  i[iielques  bancs  de  schistes  talqueux  et 
quartzeux,  mais  sans  bancs  calcaires.  Vers  le  pied  ouest  du  pic,  le  gneiss  est 
remplace  parde  l'euphotide  granitoide  massive,  qui  semble  y  former  une  grosse 
lentille  se  fondant  de  tons  cotes  dans  le  gneiss  meme.  Du  reste  les  roches  du 
Cervin  montrent  partout  des  exemples  fort  instructifs  de  passages  graduels 
d'une  structure  a  l'autre,  resultant  du  metamorphisme  plus  ou  moins  avance. 
Le  pic  actuel  n'est  que  le  reste  d'une  puissante  formation  geologique 
ancienne,  triasique  peut-etre,  dont  les  couches  puissantes  de  plus  de  3500 
metres  enveloppaient  tout  autour  comme  un  immense  manteau  le  grand  massif 
granitoide  et  feldspathique  du  Mont  Rose.  Aussi  son  etude  detaillee,  qui  par 
exception  est  rendue  fort  facile  par  la  profondeur  des  vallons  d'ou  il  surgit, 
donne  la  clef  de  la  structure  geologique  de  beaucoup  d'autres  montagnes  des 
environs.  On  y  voit  partout  le  phenomene  assez  curie ux  d'une  puissante 
formation  talqueuse  tres-cristalline,  presque  granitoide,  regulierement  superposee 
a  une  formation  schisteuse  et  calcarifere.  Cette  meme  constitution  geologique 
est  en  partie  la  cause  de  la  forme  aigue  et  de  l'isolement  du  pic  qui  en  font  la 
merveille  des  voyageurs.  En  effet,  tandis  que  les  roches  feuillete'es  de  la  base 
etant  facilement  corrodees  par  Taction  des  meteores  et  de  l'eau  ont  ete  facile- 
ment  creusees  en  vallees  larges  et  profondes,  la  roche  superieure  qui  constitue 
la  pyramide  donne  lieu  par  sa  durete  a  des  fendillements  formant  des  parois 
escarpees  qui  conservent  au  pic  ce  profil  elance  et  caracteristique  alpin.  Les 
glaciers  qui  entourent  son  pied  de  tous  les  cotes  en  emportant  d'une  maniere 
continue  les  debris  tombant  de  ses  flancs,  contribuent  pour  leur  part  a  main- 
tenir  cet  isolement  de  la  merveilleuse  pyramide  qui  sans  eux  serait  peut-etre 
deja  ensevelie  sous  ses  propres  mines. 


Thk  Death  of  Signor  F.  Giordano. 

Signor  Giordano,  who  supplied  the  above  valuable  note  upon  the  Geology 
of  the  Matterhorn,  and  the  accompanying  section,  lost  his  life  in  1892,  under 
very  shocking  circumstances.  He  went  to  Valloinbrosa  to  pass  a  few  days, 
and  on  the  evening  of  the  14th  of  July  left  his  hotel  for  a  walk.  As  he 
did  not  return,  several  persons  took  lanterns  to  search  the  woods,  and  at 
last,  attracted  by  moans,  discovered  the  unfortunate  engineer  in  a  horrible 
state.  He  had  tumbled  over  a  cliff  into  a  pool,  and,  having  fractured  his 
skull  and  a  leg,  was  quite  unable  to  move.  Myriads  of  leeches  from  a  neigh- 
bouring marsh  were  devouring  the  defenceless  man  alive.  His  hands,  face, 
and  body  were  covered  with  these  bloodsuckers.  He  was  carried  back  to  the 
hotel  in  a  dying  condition,  and  expired  in  the  course  of  the  following  day. 
Signor  Giordano  was  very  short-sighted,  and  this  may  possibly  have  caused 
the  accident 


436 


sriiAMHLKS  AMONGST  THE  A  LIS. 


APPENDIX. 


itBKCES   TO   THE   GEOLOGICAL   SECTION    OF   THK    MaTTKUH<»KN. 


I.  Gneiss  talqueux  quart/ifiii'.     Boanconp  de  tracea  de  fnudres. 
II.  lianc  de  3  a  1  unties  de  schistes  serpent  im-nx  et  talqueui  \ 

III.  Gneiaa  talqueux  a  aleaaenta  plus  on  moina  aehiateux,  avec  qtielqne  lit 

de  quartzitc. 
„     Gneiss  et  micaschistes  ferrnginetu  a  elements  tree-Una,  beaucouji  de 
traces  de  foudre. 

IV.  Gneiaa  alternant  avec  des  schistes  talqueux  et  i\  des  felsites  en  zonea 

■  blanches  et  grieea. 
V.   Petite  couche  de  schistes  serpent  ineux,  wit  aomhre, 
VI.  Gneiss  et  micaschiste  avec  zones  quartsiferea  ntbani  68. 
VII.   Gneiss  talqueux  a  elements  schisteux. 
VIII.      Id.  id.         verdiitre,  porphyroide  a  elements  moyens. 

IX.  Gneiss  talqueux  granitoide  &  gros  elements  et  avec  dea  cristaux  da 

feldspath. 
X.   Schistes  grisatres. 
XI.  Micaschistes  ferrugineux 
XII.   Gneiss  talqueux  vert  sombre. 

XIII.  Gneiss  et  schistes  quartzeux,  couleur  vert  clair. 

X I V.  Euphotide  massive  (feldspath  et  diallage)  a  elements  criatallina  bien 

developpes,  traversee  par  des  veines  d'eurite  blanchatre.     Cette 
roche  forme  un  banc  ou  pi u tot  une  lentille  de  plus  de  500  mi  ties 
de  puissance  intercale*e  au  gneiss  talqueux. ' 
XV.   <  Jnoiss  talqueux  alternant  avec  des  schistes  talqueux  et  micaces. 
XVI.  Schistes  compactes  couleur  vert  clair. 

X  V 1 1.   Calcaire  cristallin  micace  (calcschiste)  avec  veines  et  rognons  de  quart  z. 
11  alterne  avec  des  schistes  verts  chloriteux  et  serpentineux. 
XVIII.  Schistes  verts  chloriteux,  serpentineux  et  talqueux,  avec  des  masses 
steatiteuses. 
XIX.  Calcschistes  (comme   ci-dessus)  formant    un    banc   de  plus  de   100 

metre*.9 
XX.  Schistes  verts  chloriteux. 
XXI.  Calcschistes  (comme  ci-dessus). 

XXII.  II  suit  ci  dessous  une  aerie  fort  puiaaante  de  schistes  verts  aerpen> 
tineux,  chloriteux,  talqueux  et  steatiteux  alternant  encore  aveo  dea 
calcschistes.  En  plusieurs  localitea  lee  schistes  deviennenl  tree- 
amphibologiqnea  h  petits  cristaux  noirs.  Cette  pqiaaante  formation 
calcareo-serpentineuse  repose  inferieurement  sur  des  micaschistes 
et  des  gneiss  anciens. 

1  Cette  roche  granitoide  parait  surtout  a  la  base  OUaft  ilu  pio  sous  le  col  <lu  Lion  taadii 
ipi'clle  ne  parait  pas  du  tout  sur  le  flauc  est  oil  file  parait  passer  au  gneiss  talqueux. 

-  Kn  plusieurs  localitcs  im  environ*,  cette  zone  ealcaribiv  pn -si  nte  des  bancs  et  des 
Untitles  de  dolomie,  de  cargueule  de  gypse  et  de  quartziti  -. 


CEOLOCICAL  SECTION  OF  THE  MATTERHORN.   (MONT  CERVIN) 


BT    SIliXOR    T.   OIOBI>  1X0 


1I»S    Sl'MMIT 


U»70    THI  "SHOULD!*"  [L'EPACLE] 


1S3S4    Hl'T  OX  THE  ITAL1AX  SIDE  [CRAVATE; 

aaao  professor  mmui  on 


ISM    AUTHOR'S  THIRD  TEXT  PLATFORM 


15SS0    TUB  SECOXD  TEXT  PLATFORM 
1SJJ6    TUB  HCT  OX  THE  aWISS  HM 


MM 

777* 


•NO    HOTEL  AT  OOUUi 
Mil     CHALETS  OF  URK1L 


utkm-ix.  EXCAVATION  ON  THE  COL.  437 


G.     Stratification  of  Snow  and  Formation  of  Glacier- Ice. 

In  the  spring  of  1866,  the  late  Principal  J.  D.  Forbes  urged  me  to 
endeavour  to  find  out  more  about  the  'veined  .structure'  of  glaciers,  which 
he  then,  and,  I  believe,  until  his  death,  considered,  was  very  orach  in  want 
of  elucidation.  After  thinking  the  subject  over,  it  seemed  to  me  that  its 
difficulties  were  so  considerable  that  it  would  be  useless  to  attempt  to  grapple 
with  them  except  in  a  thorough  manner,  and  that  it  would  be  necessary  to 
scrutinise  and  to  follow  out  the  gradual  transition  of  snow  into  glacier-ice, 
from  beginning  to  end,  in  at  least  one  glacier.  Superficial  examination  was 
almost  worthless,  lor  it  was  known  that  the  veined  structure,  or  structures, 
existed  in  glacier-ice  above  the  snow-line  ;  and  hence  it  appeared  that  the 
only  effectual  procedure  would  be  to  sink  a  number  of  pits  or  trenches 
through  the  superincumbent  snow,  commencing  at  the  very  birthplace  of 
the  glacier,  and  to  watch  its  growth  and  structural  development  as  it 
descended  to  the  lower  regions.      This  opinion  I  still  entertain. 

I  left  England  at  the  end  of  July,  with  the  intention  of  sinking  several 
pits  in  the  Stock  Glacier,  which  descends  towards  the  north-east  from  the 
Col  de  Valpelline.1  In  the  first  instance  it  was  desirable  that  a  trench 
should  be  made  in  some  position  that  was  free  from  local  interference,  and 
in  this  respect  the  Col  de  Valpelline  was  an  excellent  station.  It  was  a 
snowy  plateau — almost  a  plain  (without  any  protruding  ridges  or  rocks) — 
which  gave  birth  to  two  great  glaciers— one  (the  Stock  Glacier)  descending 
gently  towards  the  north-east,  the  second  (the  Valpelline  Glacier)  falling 
away  rather  more  rapidly  to  the  south-west.2  Wretched  weather  and  other 
troubles  retarded  the  work,  and  only  one  pit  was  sunk  in  the  time  at  my 
disposal.  This  was  a  little  more  than  22  feet  in  depth  ;  and,  although  it 
threw  scarcely  any  light  upon  the  veined  structure,  it  yielded  some  informa- 
tion respecting  stratification  of  snow  and  the  formation  of  glacier-ice.  I  will 
describe,  first  of  all,  how  the  work  was  done  ;  and  secondly,  what  we 
observed. 

I  arrived  at  Zermatt  on  the  30th  of  July,  possessed  of  a  pickaxe  (one 
end  of  the  head  pointed  and  the  other  adze-shaped)  and  a  couple  of  shovels  ; 
engaged  three  common  peasants  as  labourers,  and  Franz  Biener  as  guide, 
and  waited  some  days  for  the  weather  to  improve.  On  the  afternoon  of 
August  2  we  started,  and  camped  on  the  rocks  of  the  Stockje,3  at  a  height 
of  about  9000  feet.  It  was  a  very  gusty  night,  and  snow  fell  heavily. 
Great  avalanches  poured  down  frecmently  from  the  surrounding  slopes  into 
the  basin  of  the  Tiefenmatten  Glacier,  and  minor  ones  from  the  slopes  of 
our  tent.  We  left  our  camp  at  9.20  a.m.  on  the  3rd,  and  proceeded  to  the 
summit  of  the  Col  (11,650)  against  a  bitterly  cold  wind,  and  with  the  clouds 
embracing  everything.     I  marked  out  a  place  for  excavation,  immediately  at 

1  See  Map  of  the  Valpelline,  etc. 

-  The  glacier  referred  to  above  as  the  Valpelline  Glacier  is  now  called  upon  the 
Swiss  Government  Maps  '  Haut  Glacier  de  Za-de-Zan.' 

3  Marked  on  the  Map  of  Matterhoro  and  its  Glaciers,  Camp  (1866). 


138  80RAMBLSB  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  appendix, 

the  summit  of  tin-  pass,1  -2  I  feot  long  by  5  wide,  and  the  men  MOO  threw 
out  enough  enow  to  prote.  t  themeelvai  from  the  wind.  Two  walla  of  tin- 
pit  wen  dressed  smooth,  a  third  was  left  rough,  and  the  fourth  was  occupied 
by  an  inclined  plane  that  led  from  tin-  surface  to  tin;  workers.  Two  men 
were  always  at  work  ;  one  hewing  with  the  pick,  and  the  other  throwing 
out  with  the  shovel.  The  others  rested,  ami  relieved  the  workers  about 
every  fifteen  minutes.  For  seven  or  eight  feet  down  they  got  along  rapidly, 
as  the  stuff  could  be  thrown  out;  but  after  a  time  tin-  progress  became 
much  slower,  for  the  snow  had  to  be  carried   out  in  baskets. 

After  five  hours'  exposure  to  the  wind  and  drifting  snow  I  was  half 
frown,  and  in  a  worse  state  than  the  men,  who  kept  themselves  alive 
by  their  work.  All  our  faces  were  massed  with  icicles.  At  length  I 
beat  a  retreat,  and  descended  to  the  tent  with  Biener.  The  mists  were 
so  dease  that  we  dared  not  use  either  veils  or  spectacles,  and  I  remained 
snow-blind  in  consequence  for  two  days  afterwards.  On  the  morning 
of  the  4th  my  eyelids  refused  to  open,  and  the  light  was  painful  even 
when  they  were  closed.  The  men  started  off  at  6.45,  leaving  me  with 
my  head  tied  up  in  a  handkerchief,  unable  to  eat  or  even  to  smoke ! 
Biener  came  back  at  4.30  p.m.  and  reported  that  the  snow  seemed  to 
be  getting  softer  rather  than  harder  the  farther  they  descended.  On 
the  5th  (Sunday)  my  condition  was  slightly  improved,  and  on  Monday 
morning  I  was  able  to  make  a  start,  and  ascended  to  the  Col  to  see 
what  the  labourers  had  done  in  my  absence.  They  did  not  appear 
to  have  overworked  themselves ;  for  while  on  the  first  day  they  had 
got  down  more  than  9  feet  in  5  hours,  they  had,  during  the  time  I  had 
l)een  away,  only  accomplished  4  feet  more.  They  accounted  for  this  by 
saying  that  on  Sunday  night  three  feet  of  snow  had  drifted  into  the  pit, 
and  almost  as  much  on  Friday  night.  This,  of  course,  had  considerably 
added  to  the  work.  They  were  extremely  anxious  to  get  away ;  which 
was  not  surprising,  as  the  wind  was  blowing  ferociously  from  the  north- 
west, and  was  tearing  away  sheets  of  snow  from  the  summit  of  the  pass. 
Indeed,  it  was  impossible  to  stand  against  it,  and  in  a  single  hour  we 
should  have  been  all  frozen  if  we  had  remained  upon  the  surface,  1 
told  them  that  they  had  only  to  reach  glacier,  and  the  work  would  be 
over  at  that  spot  This  consoled  them,  and  they  promised  to  work  hard 
during  our  absence. 

Biener  and  I  then  crossed  the  Col  de  Valpelline  and  passed  the  night  of 
the  6th  at  Prerayen.  Upon  the  7th  we  went  down  the  Valpelline  to  Biona 
upon  other  business.  On  the  8th  we  returned  to  the  summit  of  the  Col, 
and  found  all  three  men  sitting  on  the  nearest  rocks  smoking  their  pipet. 
They  admitted  that  they  had  done  nothing  on  that  day,  but  excused  them- 
selves by  saying  that  they  had  got  down  to  glacier.  I  found  that  they  had 
only  gone  down  another  foot  during  our  thirty -six  hours'  absence.  My 
wrath,  however,  was  somewhat  appeased  when  I  went  down  into  the  pit. 
They  had  struck  a  layer  of  ice  of  much  greater  thickness  than  any  which 

1  The  pit  was  made  about  mid-way  between  the  Tete  Blanche  and  the  point  now 
calle.l  the  Tt-te  de  Valpelline  (3813  metres). 


appendix.        MINGLED  STRATA   OF  SNOW  AND  ICE.  439 

had  been  previously  met  with.  It  extended  all  round  the  floor  of  the  pit 
to  a  depth  of  6]  inches.  The  men  went  to  work  again,  and  soon  reached 
another  stratum  of  ice  of  considerable  thickness  ;  or,  rather,  three  layers 
which  were  barely  separated  from  each  other.  After  this,  the  snow  seemed 
to  be  no  denser  than  it  was  above  the  great  layer.  I  waited  some  time  ; 
but  my  eyes  were  still  very  weak,  and  could  not  be  exposed  for  many 
minutes  together,  so  at  length  Biener  and  I  went  down  to  Zermatt  through 
a  terrific  thunderstorm  and  very  heavy  rain. 

On  the  9th  we  returned  again  to  the  Col,  and  whilst  climbing  the  rocks 
of  the  Stockje,  discovered  the  dead  chamois  which  was  mentioned  upon  p. 
143.  It  rained  as  far  as  our  camp,  and  thenceforward  we  had  to  fight  our 
way  up  through  continuously -falling  snow,  against  an  easterly  gale.  It 
blew  dead  in  our  teeth,  and  our  progress  was  painfully  slow.  The  snow 
was  writhing  all  around,  as  if  tormented  ;  or  caught  by  whirlwinds,  and 
sent  eddying  high  aloft ;  or  seized  by  gusts  and  borne  onwards  in  clouds 
which  seemed  to  be  driven  right  through  us.  The  wind  was  appalling  ; 
once  I  was  fairly  blown  down,  although  tied  to  Biener,  and  many  times  we 
were  sent  staggering  back  for  ten  or  a  dozen  paces  against  our  will.  Our 
track  was  obliterated  at  the  summit,  and  we  could  not  find  the  pit.  We 
tried  east,  west,  north,  and  south,  to  no  purpose.  At  last  we  heard  a  shout ! 
We  halted,  panting  for  breath.  Another  !  It  came  with  the  wind,  and  we 
had  to  face  the  storm  again.  After  a  long  search  we  arrived  at  the  pit, 
which  by  this  time  was  a  huge  hole  twenty  feet  deep.  The  inclined  plane 
had  had  to  be  abandoned,  and  a  regular  staircase  led  down  to  the  bottom. 
The  men  had  again  struck  work,  having,  they  said,  arrived  at  glacier  ; 
the  fact  was,  they  were  completely  cowed  by  the  weather,  and  had  taken 
to  shouting,  expecting  that  we  should  be  lost.  I  descended  into  the  pit, 
and  with  two  strokes  of  the  pick  went  through  their  glacier,  which  was 
only  another  thick  stratum  of  ice. 

The  last  day  had  arrived,  and  the  next  was  to  see  me  en  route  for 
London.  I  drove  the  men  to  their  work,  and  stood  over  them  once  more. 
The  stuff  which  came  up  in  the  baskets  was  different  from  that  which  I  had 
seen  last !  It  was  not  ice  of  a  compact  kind  like  the  horizontal  layers, 
still  it  was  not  snow.  Sometimes  one  could  say,  This  is  snow  ;  but  at 
others  no  one  would  have  said  that  it  was  snow.  On  inquiry,  they  said 
that  it  had  been  like  this  for  several  feet.  I  went  down,  took  the  tools  in 
my  own  hands,  and  hewed  the  walls  smooth.  It  was  then  apparent  that 
vertical  glacification  (if  I  may  be  permitted  to  use  such  an  expression) 
had  commenced  (see  A  A  on  section).1 

The  men  were  anxious  to  leave,  for  the  weather  was  terrible.  The 
wind  howled  over  our  heads  in  a  true  hurricane.  I  was  unwilling  to  go 
until  it  was  absolutely  necessary.  At  length  they  refused  to  work  any 
longer ;  I  concluded  the  measurements  ;  we  tied  in  line,  and  floundered 
downwards,  and  at  9  p.m.  arrived  at  Zermatt 

I  will  now  proceed  to  describe  what  we  saw.     For  11  inches  from  the 

1  See  the  section  at  the  end  <>f  tin-  vol  mm-.  <lr:i\vn  to  a  scale  of  one  imli  to  a 
foot  from  actual  nemnMlt 


440  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  THE  ALPS.  afpkm.ix. 

surface  the  snow  was  soft  and  -white,  or  what  is  usually  termed  new  snow. 
There  was  then  a  very  decided  increase  la  density,  and  all  the  snow  beneath 
had  a  slight  bluish  tint1  At  21  inches  from  the  surface  t lie  tone  of  the 
snow  seemed  somewhat  deeper  than  that  which  was  above,  but  below  tins 
point  there  was  little  or  no  increase  in  colour  until  the  depth  of  1 5  fei 
passed.  The  density  of  the  snow  naturally  increased  as  we  descended, 
although  much  less  rapidly  than  I  expected.  Down  to  the  depth  of  13£ 
feet  (or  to  just  above  the  broad  blue  band  on  the  right-hand  column  of 
the  section)  the  mass  was  decidedly  and  unmistakably  snowy;  that  is  to 
say,  lumps  could  readily  be  compressed  between  the  hands.  This  was  also 
the  case  in  some  places  below  the  depth  of  15  feet  For  example,  at  B  B,  on 
the  section,  the  snow  was  not  perceptibly  denser  than  it  was  six  or  eight 
feet  higher  up.  In  other  places,  A  A,  it  could  not  be  termed  snow 
could  not  be  readily  compressed  in  the  hands  ;  and  it  looked  ami  fell 
like  an  imperfect  or  wet  and  spongy  form  of  ice.  The  colour  at  B  B  was 
perceptibly  lighter  than  at  A  A,  but  it  should  be  said  that  the  colour 
here,  and  of  the  horizontal  strata  of  ice,  has  been  intentionally  exaggerated 
upon  the  section  for  the  sake  of  clearness. 

The  entire  mass  was  pervaded  with  horizontal  strata  of  pure  ice.  In  the 
22  feet  that  we  penetrated  there  were  75  such  layers,  varying  from  one-tenth 
of  an  inch  in  thickness  to  6^  inches,  which  amounted  in  the  aggregate 
to  25|  inches  of  solid  ice.  These  strata  were  approximately  parallel  to 
the  surface  of  the  snow,  and  to  each  other.  Not  perfectly  so ;  sometimes 
they  approached,  and  sometimes  receded  from  each  other.  Neither  was 
their  substance  (thickness)  constant  In  some  places  they  were  more,  and 
in  others  less  thick.  For  example,  the  stratum  which  is  between  the 
brackets  marked  1863-4?  and  1864-5?  was  in  some  places  an  inch  and 
a  half  thick,  but  in  others  scarcely  an  eighth  of  an  inch.  Upon  tin- 
whole,  the  stouter  strata  were  continued  completely  round  the  sides  of  the 
pit,  and  were  tolerably  uniform  in  thickness.  The  finer  strata,  on  the  other 
hand,  frequently  died  out  in  short  distances,  and  seldom  or  never  could  be 
lined  completely  round  the  walls.  The  liner  strata  also  were  much  more 
numerous  towards  the  surface  than  towards  the  bottom  of  the  pit,  and  they 
readily  obscured  by  the  drifting  snow.  It  was  obvious,  yet  important 
to  observe,  that  the  strata  or  layers  of  pure  ice  became  fewer  in  number  as 
one  descended,  and  that  upon  the  whole  they  became  thicker. 

I  attempted  to  gain  an  idea  of  the  temperature  of  the  snow  at  different 
depths,  but  I  do  not  care  to  quote  my  readings,  as  they  were  almo 
tainly  falsified  by  the  wind.  I  am  not  sure,  moreover,  that  it  is  possible 
under  any  cinuni-tances  to  obtain  correct  readings  of  snow  temperature  in 
the  way  that  they  were  taken.  The  recorded  temperatures,  anyhow,  must 
have  been  influenced  by  the  surrounding  air.  If  they  were  correct  they 
proved  that  the  lower  strata  were  vnmor  than   the  upper  ones. 

We  iiiu.-t  now  quit  the  region  of  fact",  and  descend  t<»  that  ol 
and  conjectures.     The  differences  in  the  quality  and  in  the  tone  of  the  snow 

1  Compare*!  with  the  11  inches  of  snow  at  the  surface,  that   beneath  Seemed  dirty. 
I   hesitate,  however,   t'>  term   it   dirty.     We  *  I  i<  1   not   anywhere  detect  Krit  or  tend. 


.v!im:m.ix.  MANNER  OF  THEIR  PRODUCTION.  441 

of  the  first  three  feet  below  the  surface  were  sufficiently  marked  to  suggest 
that  wc  saw  in  them  snow  belonging  to  three  different  years.  The 
unanimous  opinion  of  the  four  nun  was,  that  the  uppermost  11  inches 
belonged  to  1865-6,  the  next  10  inches  to  1864-5,  and  the  next  16  inches 
to  1863-4.  In  this  matter  they  were  not,  perhaps,  altogether  incompetent 
I  am  doubtful,  however,  whether  their  opinion  was  correct,  and 
incline  to  the  idea  that  the  uppermost  11  inches  had  fallen  during  the 
summer  of  1866,  and  that  the  succeeding  10  inches  may  have  been  all  that 
remained  of  the  preceding  winter's  snow.  Whatever  surprise  may  be  felt  at 
so  small  a  depth  being  considered  as  representing  a  year's  fall,  must  be 
modified  when  it  is  remembered  that  the  position  at  which  the  pit  was  sunk 
could  scarcely  have  been  more  exposed.  We  had  evidence  while  we  were 
upon  the  summit  that  a  mere  fraction  only  of  the  snow  that  fell  remained 
in  situ — the  wind  tore  it  away  in  sheets  and  streams.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered, too,  that  no  inconsiderable  amount  passes  off  by  evaporation.  If 
other  pits  had  been  sunk  to  the  north  and  to  the  south  of  the  pass,  we 
should  probably  have  found  in  them  a  greater  depth  of  snow  between  each 
of  the  horizontal  layers  of  pure  ice.  This  is  mere  conjecture,  and  it  may  be 
taken  for  what  it  is  worth.  It  is  more  important  to  note — 1.  (a)  That  the 
fine  layers  or  strata  of  pure  ice  were  numerous  towards  the  surface  ;  (6)  dis- 
appeared as  we  descended  ;  (c)  and  that  the  lower  strata  were,  upon  the 
whole,  much  thicker  than  those  towards  the  surface.  2.  That  the  thickness 
of  these  strata  of  pure  ice  amounted  to  nearly  one-tenth  of  the  mass  that  we 
were  able  to  penetrate.  3.  That,  below  the  depth  of  15  feet,  vertical 
glacification  began  to  shew  itself.  Upon  each  of  these  subjects  I  will  now 
venture  to  offer  a  few  remarks. 

1.  (a)  The  fine  horizontal  layers  or  strata  of  pure  ice  were  numerous  towards 
the  surface.  All  of  these  layers  had  been  formed  by  weathering  at  the 
surface.  It  is  usual,  even  during  the  winter,  for  considerable  periods  of  fine 
weather  to  succeed  heavy  snowfalls  ;  and  in  these  periods  the  surface  of  the 
snow  is  alternately  melted  and  refrozen,  and,  at  length,  is  glazed  with  a 
crust  or  film  of  pure  ice.  This,  when  covered  up  by  another  snowfall,  and 
exposed  as  in  the  section,  appears  as  a  bluish  horizontal  line  drawn  through 
the  whiter  mass.  The  snow  between  any  two  of  these  layers  (near  the 
surface)  did  not  therefore  represent  a  year's  snow,  but  it  was  the  remnant, 
and  only  the  remnant,  of  a  considerable  fall,  between  whose  deposition,  and 
that  of  the  next  stratum  above,  a  considerable  interval  of  time  had  probably 
elapscl. 

(b)  The  fine  strata  disappeared  as  ice  descended.  I  imagine  that  this  was  a 
result  of  pressure  from  the  superincumbent  mass,  but  I  leave  to  others  to 
shew  the  exact  manner  in  which  these  finer  strata  were  got  rid  of.  I>  it 
possible  to  liquefy  by  steady  pressure  a  plate  of  ice  (say,  one-tenth  of  an 
inch  in  thickness)  placed  in  the  interior  of  a  mass  of  snow,  without  lique- 
faction of  the  snow? 

(c)  The   Inn;  i-   strain   of  }>ur>'    ire    were,    upon    thr    irhnle,    thirl;,,-    tlmn    tkott 

3l 


Ufl  SCRAMBLES  AMONGST  Till:  ALPS.  appi 

b  fA«  surface.  '  This,  doubtless,  was  a  result  of  vertical  pres-me.  The 
ice-stnita  thickened  under  pressure.  But  why  should  some  grow  and  others 
disappear/  I  presume  that  the  finest  ones  disappear,  and  thai  the  stouter 
ones  grow.  Can  it  be  shewn  experimentally  that  it  is  possible  to  Liquefy 
by  steady  pressure  a  fine  plate  of  ice  placed  in  the  interior  of  a  mass  of 
snow,  and  at  the  same  time,  under  the  same  conditions,  to  thicken  another 
and  stouter  plate  of  ice  ? 

2.  These  horizontal  strata  of  pure  ice  amounted  in  the  aggregate  to  nearly 
one-tenth  of  the  thickness  of  the  mass  that  we  penetrated.  It  was  perfectly  well 
known  prior  to  1866  that  the  upper  snows  (which  give  birth  to  glaciers) 
were  pervaded  with  strata  of  pure  ice,  and  a  number  of  observers  had 
written  before  that  date  upon  stratification  of  snow  and  of  glacier.  It  may  be 
questioned,  however,  whether  any  had  an  idea  of  the  very  important  amount 
of  glacification  that  is  effected  by  superficial  weathering,  and  subsequent 
thickening  of  the  strata  through  vertical  pressure.  A  search  through  the 
works  of  the  principal  writers  on  glaciers  has  failed  to  shew  me  that  any 
person  imagined  that  one-tenth  of  the  mass,  or  anything  like  that  amount, 
may  be  composed  of  strata  of  pure  ice. 

There  are  two  points  in  regard  to  these  horizontal  strata  of  pure  ice  that 
are  worthy  of  consideration  : — (a)  Does  not  their  existence,  and  especially  the 
existence  of  the  fine  layers  towards  the  surface,  conclusively  disprove  the 
idea  that  the  production  of  glacier-ice  is  greatly  promoted  by  infiltration  of 
water  from  the  surface?  (b)  Can  these  numerous  strata  of  pure  ice  (some  of 
which  are  of  such  considerable  thickness,  and  extending  over  large  areas)  be 
obliterated  in  the  subsequent  progress  of  the  glacier?  If  so,  how  are  they 
obliterated  1  Or  is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  these  thick  strata  of 
solid  ice  must  continue  to  exist,  must  continue  to  thicken  under  pressure, 
and  must  supply  many  of  those  plates  of  pure  ice  which  are  seen  in  the 
imperfect  ice  of  the  glacier,  and  which  have  been  referred  to  at  different 
times  and  by  various  persons  as  the  '  veined  structure '  1 

3.  Below  the  depth  of  15  feet  the  appearances  which  I  have  ventured 
to  term  vertical  glacification  were  first  noticed.  Were  they  accidental  ?  or 
will  they  be  found  at  or  about  the  same  depth  in  all  other  places  ? 
Into  what  would  those  appearances  have  developed  at  a  greater  depth  I 
What  produced  them?  These  questions  may  perhaps  be  answered  one 
day  by  future  investigators.  I  cannot  answer  them  except  by  guesses 
or  conjectures.  Most  unwillingly  I  left  the  excavation  just  at  the  time 
when  it  promised  to  yield  more  valuable  information  than  it  had  done 
previously  ;  and  since  then  I  have  never  been  able  to  resume  the  work. 
I  believe  that  the  exposure  of  considerable  sections  of  the  interior  of 
a  glacier,  at  different  parts  of  its  course,  would  yield  information  of 
extreme  interest;  and  that  more  light  would  be  thrown  in  such  way 
upon  the  doubts  and  difficulties  which  attend  the  formation  of  gla< d< 

and  the  'veined  structure,'  than  will  ever  be  thrown  upon  those  vexed 
subjects  by  wandering  upon  the  surface  of  glaciers  and  by  peering  into 
crevasses, 


appendix.      REM  AUK  ABLE   P1XXACLEH  XEAIi  SACHAS.  443 


H.     Denudation  in  the  Valley  of  the  Durance. 

In  the  summer  of  1869,  whilst  walking  up  the  valley  of  the  Durance 
from  Mont  Dauphin  to  Briancon,  I  noticed,  when  about  five  kilometres  from 
tin-  latter  place,  some  pinnacles  on  the  mountain-slopes  to  the  west  of  tin- 
road.  I  scrambled  up,  and  found  the  remarkable  natural  pillars  which  are 
represented  in  the  annexed  engraving.1  They  were  formed  out  of  an 
unstiatitit  a  rough  mierate  of  gritty  earth,  boulders,  and  stones.  Some  of 
them  were  more  thickly  studded  with  stones  than  a  plum-pudding  usually  is 
with  plums,  whilst  from  others  the  stones  projected  like  the  spines  from  an 
echinoderm.  The  earth  (or  mud)  was  extremely  hard  and  tenacious,  and  the 
stones,  embedded  in  it,  were  extricated  with  considerable  difficulty.  The 
mud  adhered  very  firmly  to  the  stones  that  were  got  out,  but  it  was  readily 
washed  away  in  a  little  stream  near  at  hand.  In  a  few  minutes  I  extracted 
fragments  of  syenite,  mica-schist,  several  kinds  of  limestone  and  conglomerates, 
and  some  fossil  plants  characteristic  of  carboniferous  strata.  Most  of  the 
fragments  were  covered  with  scratches,  which  told  that  they  had  travelled 
underneath  a  glacier.  The  mud  had  all  the  character  of  glacier-mud,  and 
the  hill-side  was  covered  with  drift  From  these  indications,  and  from  the 
situation  of  the  pinnacles,  I  concluded  that  they  had  been  formed  out  of  an 
old  moraine.  The  greatest  of  them  were  60  to  70  feet  high,  and  the 
moraine  had  therefore  been  at  least  that  height.  I  judged  from  appearances 
that  the  moraine  was  a  frontal-terminal  one  of  a  glacier  which  had  been  an 
affluent  of  the  great  glacier  that  formerly  occupied  the  Valley  of  the  Durance, 
and  which,  during  retrogression,  had  made  a  stand  upon  this  hill-side  near 
Sachas.  This  lateral  glacier  had  flowed  down  a  nameless  vallon  which 
descends  towards  the  E.S.E.  from  the  mountain  called  upon  the  French 
Government  map  Sommet  de  l'Eychouda  (8740). 

Only  one  of  all  the  pinnacles  that  I  saw  was  capped  by  a  stone  (a  small 
one),  and  I  did  not  notice  any  boulders  lying  in  their  immediate  vicinity  of  a 
size  sufficient  to  account  for  their  production  in  the  manner  of  the  well-known 
pillars  near  Botzen.  The  readers  of  Sir  Charles  Lyell's  Principles  (10th  ed. 
vol.  i.  p.  338)  will  remember  that  he  attributes  the  formation  of  the  Botzen 
pillars  chiefly  to  the  protection  which  boulders  have  afforded  to  the  under- 
lying matter  from  the  direct  action  of  rain.  This  is  no  doubt  correct — the 
Botzen  pinnacles  are  mostly  capped  by  boulders  of  considerable  dimensions. 
In  the  present  instance  this  does  not  appear  to  have  been  exactly  the  case. 
Running  water  has  cut  the  moraine  into  ridges  (shewn  upon  the  right  hand 
of  the  engraving),  and  has  evidently  assisted  in  the  work  of  denudation. 

1  They  were  750  feet  (by  aneroid)  above  the  road,  and  were  not  far  from  the  village 
of  Sachas.  There  were  a  dozen  of  about  the  size  of  those  shewn  in  the  engraving,  and 
also  numerous  stumps  of  other  minor  ones.  There  may  have  been  more,  and  more  con- 
siderable ones,  farther  behind.  I  was  pressed  for  time,  and  could  not  proceed  beyond  the 
point  shewn  in  the  illustration.  I  have  thought  the  above  imperfect  account  of  these 
pinnacles  worth  recording,  as  I  believe  they  have  not  been  described  or  observed 
before. 


in  80BAMBLSS  AMONGST  THE  ALPB.  appendix 

The  group  of  pinnaclee  here  figured,  belonged,  id  all  probability,  to  a  ridge 

which  had  been  formed  ill  thi>  way,  whose  crest,  in  course  of  time,  became 
■harp,  perhaps  attenuated.  In  mob  a  condition,  very  small  .-tones  upon 
the  erect  of  the  ridge  would  originate  little  pinnaclet ;  whether  these  would 
develop  into  larger  ones,  would  depend  upon  the  quantity  of  Btones  eml 
in  the  surrounding  moraine-matter.  I  imagine  that  the  largest  of  the  Sachas 
pinnacles  owe  their  existence  to  the  portions  of  the  moraine  out  of  which 
they  are  formed  having  been  studded  with  a  greater  quantity  of  stones  and 
small  boulders  than  the  portions  of  the  moraine  which  formerly  filled  the 
gaps  between  them;  and,  of  course,  primarily,  to  the  facts  that  glacier-mud 
is  extremely  tenacious  when  dry,  and  is  readily  washed  away.  Thus,  the 
present  form  of  the  pinnacles  is  chieHy  due  to  the  direct  action  of  rain,  hut 
their  production  was  assisted,  in  the  first  instance,  by  the  action  of  running 
water. 


INDEX 


INDEX. 


from, 


22. 


Abkrcromby,  Mr.  D.  J.,  427. 

Abricolla,  Chalets  of,  260,  262,  267-68, 
270-71. 

Abries,  Village  of,  12,  38-42. 

Abt,  the  systeme,  421-22. 

iEschylus,  Quotation  from,  340. 

Agassiz,    Prof.   Louis,   Quotation 
133-4,  f37,  312-13,  343. 

Aiguilles  (see  Peaks). 

Ailefroide  (or  Alefred),  Val  d',  17, 

Albert,  Mont  (or  Les  Jumeaux),  147. 

Glacier  de,  147. 

Albin,  Signor  L.,  427. 

Alcazaba,  99. 

Alefred  (or  Alefroide),  Chalets  of,  22-3, 
28-9. 

Alefroide    (Sommet   de   l'Aile    Froide), 
192-3,  203. 

Allaleinhorn,  381,  411. 

Allan,  Mr.  B.,  433. 

Mr.  R.  G.,  433. 

Allee  Blanche,  Glacier,  235. 

Aimer,  Christian,  168-9,  171,  180,  200-1, 
203-6,  212,  215,  235-6,  240-47, 
253-54,  264-6,  269-70,  278,  280, 
334-35,  338,  340-41,  348,  351,  358, 
364-65,  369,  371,  426,  429,  431. 

Ulrich,  426,  428,  431. 

Alphubel,  411. 

Alpine  Club,  The,  222,  360. 

Andenmatten,  Basile,  431-32. 

Anderegg,  Heinrich,  426. 

Jakob,  428. 

Johann,  433,  434. 


Anderegg,  Melchior,  90,  146,  179-81,332, 

336,  341,  426-28,  430,  431. 

Peter,  431,  433. 

Andermatten,  Franz,  390,  423,  426-27, 

433. 

P.  J.,  429. 

Andes,  93,  418. 
Andrieux,  Village  of,  15. 
Anniviers,  Val  d',  240. 
Ansermin,  Augustin,  426,  428. 

F.,  425. 

Antey,  Village  of,  122. 

Ants,  40. 

Aosta,  Cretins  of,  282,  286-297. 

Ibex  in  Valley  of,  282-286. 

City  of,  283,  287,  295,  328,  357. 

Valley  of,  151,  281-2,  286-88,  291- 

301,  308-11,  313-15,  321,  327,  328- 

30,  365. 
Aqueduct  in  the  Val  Tournanche,  122. 
Arago,  Francois,  Quotation  from,  159. 
Arc,  River,  49. 
Arcines,  Pointe  des,  17. 
Ardon,  Village  of,  399. 
Argentiere,  Aiguille  d',  223-25,  235-38, 

356. 

Col  d\  356. 

Glacier  d\  227,  233,  239,  335,  339. 

Valley  of,  24,  210. 

Village  of,  239. 

Arnold,  Mr.  E.  P.,  428. 
Arpitetta  Alp,  241,  243,  246. 
Ansini',  Glacier  d',  194. 
Valley  of,  177. 


448 


i.\j»i:x. 


An..  Ai^uillrs  d'.  169-74,  176.     . 

Allld.lllMatt.il.    IVt.T,     II  I. 

Auvergne,  84. 

Avalau.-li.-s.  I,,   .  j.  7,  142,245,  437. 

Rock,  II,  85,  142,  146,  162,  268 

59,  278. 

Snow-,  179,  197,  199,  399-401. 

Axes  (sec  Ice-axes). 

Ayas,  Val  d',  99,  149,  161. 

Aymonod,  J.,  420. 

Backhouse,  Mr.  H.,  434. 

Bacon,  Lord,  Quotation  from,  258. 

Ball,  Mr.  John,  93,  327,  343,  423. 

I '..ilin.it.  Jos.,  428. 

Bahne,  Col  de,  223,  240. 

Bans,  Les,  193,  210. 

Bardonneche,   Village  of,  52-54,  56-57, 

68-69,  71. 
Barlow,  .Mr.  Fred.  P.,  428. 
Barran,  Mr.  A.,  432. 
Barrington,  Mr.  Charles  (first  ascent  of 

the  Eiger),  340. 
Bartlett,  Mr.,  53. 
Baton,  5,  9,  20,  106,  107,  119. 
Baumann,  Hans,  425. 

Mr.  J.,  414,  428,  434. 

P.,  429. 

Beachy  Head,  1. 

Beaumont,   Mons.   Elie  de,  16,  17,  52, 

67. 
Bee  de  Sale  (or  Becca  Salle),  100. 
Bee  du  Grenier,  175. 
Bees,  126. 

Bennen,  J.  J.,  77-79,  89-90,  113,   121- 
22,  399-401,  407. 

Death  of,  78,  399-401. 

Berarde,  La,  Village  of,  35,  178-9,  186, 

188-9,  191,  194,217. 
Bergen,  Johann  von,  127. 
Bergsclinmd,  199,  215-17,  225,  226,  262- 

64,  266. 
Berlepadh'a  .///'>■.  Quotation  from,  160. 
!'»•  in,  8. 

Bernard,  Great  St.,  Convent  of,  9,  226. 
Bernett,  l'.t.r,  125. 
1'..  rtolini.  Moils.  (liot»l  k.<-j«  r  -,  332. 

.  La,  Villas  of,  12,  16,  19-20,  22, 

30,  34,  210. 


Besso  (Lo  Besso),  'lYl, 
Berard,  A.,  820-401. 

trisOD,   P.,    Ill,  433. 

Bloh,  Bdonard,  416. 

J.  B.,  117.  881,  103-4,  406-7.    190, 

126,  127  8,  181. 

I'.ickncll.  .Mr.   II.,  426. 

Biexter,    Franz,   148,  268-55,   261,  264, 
268  70,280,331 
420,  426,  429,  182-8) 

Johann,  418-9. 

Biesgletscher,  7. 

Bietschorn,  411. 

Biona  (or  Bionaz),  Village  of,  0  11.  188. 

Bionnassay,  Aig.  de,  228  24,  280,  856. 

Village  of,  224 . 

Birkbeck,  Mr.  John,  428. 

Bischoff,  Herr  J.,  427,  481. 

Bishop,  Mr.  T.  A.,  427. 

Blackie,  On  CrMnism,  Quotations  from, 
286,  290,  293,  295. 

Blaitiere,  Aig.  de,  223. 

Blano,  Glacier,  28,  194,  204-5. 

Mont,  34,  98,  106,  151,  162,  174, 

193,    219-30,    233-39,   257,   280, 
298-300,   308,   333,  349,  86 
356,  358,  370-72,  382,  416. 

Blanket-bags,  40,  162. 

Blanqui,  Quotation  from,  187. 

I'lodi-ngletscher,  126. 

Bohren,  Peter,  426,  429. 

Bolle,  Prof.  G.,  428. 

Bonhomme,  Col  du,  218. 

Bonnennit,  Village  of,  169-70. 

Boonepierie,  (Jlaeier  de  la,  l.s«»-!>l.   I'.'l. 
199. 

Bonney,  Prof.  T.  <;..  16,  18,  167,  185, 
195,  197,  205,  423,  428. 

Bonvoisin,  Pic  de,  210-11. 

Borckhardt,  Mr.,  414-16. 

Borel,  Mi.  J.  \V.,  429. 

Borelli,  Signer,  58,  ."'7. 

Boriana,  Torrent  of,  828, 

Bornand,  Mons.  O.,  431. 

Mons.  Tli.,  428. 

Borneoud,  Pierre,  17. 

da  Dromadaire,  223,  230. 

Bossons.  Qlackrdea,  220,  230. 

Boswell.    Mr.   If.  .! 


INDEX. 


449 


Botany,  98,  99. 

Botzen,  44,  443. 

Bouquetin  (Steinbock  or  Ibex),  282-86. 

Bourcet,  General,  Map  by,  16. 

Bourg  d'Oysans,  13,  19,  39. 

Braniston,  Rev.  J.  F.,  427. 

Mr.  M.,  428. 

Brantschen,  Joseph,  411-12,  415,  430-33. 

Joseph,  415. 

Brebner,  Mr.  J.,  428. 

Breil  (see  Breuil). 

Breithorn,  99,  382,  411. 

gletscher,  233. 

Breney,  Glacier  de,  357-58. 

Brenva,  Col  de  la,  356. 

Glacier  de  la,  223,  227. 

Breuil  (or  Breil),  9-11,  72-3,  76,  79,  86, 
87,  89-91,  94-6,  101,  108-9,  112, 
114-5,  123-25,  143,  147,  148,  152, 
154,  163,  271,  277,  280,  364-68, 
370,  375,  378-80,  382,  402,  404-7, 
409-11,  415-20,  424-34. 

Breuiljoch,  First  passage  (?)  of  the,  124- 
26,  277. 

Brevoort,  Miss  M.  C,  426. 

Briancon,  13-14,  16,  19,  29,  37,  44,  57, 
174-5,  181,  214,  289.  443. 

Brieg,  288. 

Brioschi,  Signor  L.,  429,  430. 

Brocken,  The,  388. 

Bronzet,  Mr.  C,  427. 

Brule,  Mont,  145. 

Brunner,  Herr  W.,  431. 

Bruno,  Signor  L.,  430. 

Buckingham,  Mr.  J.,  361. 

Buhl,  Chalets  of,  389. 

Burckhardt,  Herr  E.,  427. 

Burgener,  Alexander,  413,  426-34. 

Alois,  432. 

Franz,  426,  428-9,  430,  432. 

Fridolin,  415. 

Burton,  Mr.  A.  H.,  429. 

Busalla,  Incline  at,  53. 

Busserailles,  Gouffre  des,  152-54. 

Butter,  Mr.,  430. 

Cachat,  Zach.,  351-52. 
Ciesar,  Quotation  from,  334. 
Calbenla,  Mr.  E,  429 


Calotte  (of  Mont  Blanc),  230. 

Caluso,  300. 

Cannon,  Mr.  M.,  428. 

Cardinal,  Mr.  D.  E.,  430. 

Carle,  Pre  de  Madame,  205,  209. 

Carrel,  Canon  (of  Aosta),  99,  122,  147, 
150,  296,  405. 

Cffisar.110,  113,  116,  120-21,156-7, 

365,  407,  425. 

Jean-Antoine,  73,  76,  81,  84,  87, 

95-97,  110,  112-14,  116,  120-23, 
126,  141,  143-50,  152-54,  156-58, 
364-68,  371,  378-81,  402-11,  413, 
415-18,  420,  424-33. 

J.  B.,  407,  425,  431. 

J. -Jacques,  76,  77,  79,  81,  87,  424. 

Louis,  147,  428,  430-31. 

Pierre,  430-31. 

Victor,  76,  424. 

Carrier,  Jean,  208. 

Carruthers,  Mr.  William,  98. 

Cattanee,  Albert,  24-5. 

Caucasus,  93. 

Cawood,  Mr.  A.  H.,  430. 

Celar,  Col  de  (or  Col  du  Sellar),  211. 

Ceneil,  Combe  de,  148-49. 

Village  of,  148. 

Cenis  (see  Mont  Cenis). 

Centre-rail  break,  51. 

Cervin,  Mont  (see  Matterhom). 

Chabrand,  Dr. ,  on  Goitre,  289-90. 

Chalp,  Le,  Village  of,  40. 

Chamois,  43,  149. 

Strange  accident  to  a,  143,  439. 

Chamounix,  Guides  of,  351-52. 

Village  of,  11,  218,  223-4,  226,  231, 

235-36,  239,  280-81,  333-34,  339- 
41,  350-53,  356,  370,  386,  390, 
393. 

Champoleon,  Valley  of,  210. 

Chanrion,  Chalets  of,  357. 

Chan  ton,  Jos.,  434. 

Chardonnet,  Aig.  du,  223,  356. 

Col  du,  235-6,  356. 

Glacier  du,  236-37. 

Charlet,  Henri  (porter),  225,  237,  239. 

Charmoz,  Aig.  de,  223. 

Charpentier  upon  the  motion  of  glaciers, 
347. 


:;  m 


450 


INDEX. 


t'hartoii,  Mons.  IM.,  17. 
Chateau  des  Dames,  100. 
("liattau  Oiunras,  Village  of,  34. 
Chatillon.  72-78,  119,  122,  165,  281,  366, 

368. 
Chcesemaking  on    the    Arpitetta    Alp, 

241-42. 
Cln  rinoiitane,  867. 
Chignana,  Val  de,  147. 
Chijiault,  Sur  les  Mariaqcs  consaivjuiius. 

297. 
Chivasso,  382. 
('hiistison.  Dr.  Robert,  on  Intemperance, 

292. 
Christophe,  St.,  Valley  of,  17,  35. 
Cicero,  Quotation  from,  219,  268. 
Cimes  Blanches,  123. 
Claushavn  (Greenland),  825-27. 
Claux,  Village  of,  17,  194,  209. 
Clemenz,  Mons.  (innkeeper),  126,  392. 
Cliinbing-claw,  102,  106. 
Clos    de    l'Homme,    Glacier,    26,    31, 

86. 
Clusaz,  Alexis,  331. 
Cobb,  Mr.  G.  F.,  428. 
Cogue,  Valley  of,  282. 
Colgrove,  Mr.  J.  B.,  430. 
Colladon,  Mons.,  53. 
Collon,  Mont,  286. 
Colorado  River,  44. 
Color  del  Porco,  Col  del,  42. 
Cols  (see  Passes). 
Combal,  Lac  de,  227,  235. 
Conservative  action  of  glaciers,  140-41. 
Constance,  Lake  of,  321. 
Contamines,  Village  of,  218,  885. 
Conte,  Mons.,  53,  55-56. 
Conway,  Mr.  W.  M.,  93. 
Cooke,  Mr.  V\\,  431. 
Coolidge,  Rev.  W.  A.  B.,  426. 
Cooper,  Mr.  J.  A.,  432. 
Copello,  Signor,  55,  57,  65. 
Corbett,  Mr.  F.,  430. 
Cornaglia,  Signor  P.,  433.      ' 
Cornetti,  Signor  F.,  71. 
Cornices,  33,  246,  334. 
Corona,  Signor  G.,  429. 
Corsica,  98. 
Couloir  du  Lion,  77-79,  82,  87. 


Couloirs,  191,  107,212*14,  852,26 
399. 

Coulter,  Jos.,  430. 

< '  .urmayeur,   11,  221,  227,  281,  331-33, 
341,  353,  356,  416. 

Courtenay,  Mr.  M.,  V\Q. 

Courtes,  Les,  221. 

Couttet,  Francois  (guide  and  hotelkeeper), 
•_';:.-37. 

Covrarole,  The,  225,  318,  350-51, 

Cox,  Mr.  T.,  427. 

Crampons,  338. 

Craven,  Mr.  A.  E.,  412,  433. 

Crete  des  Breufs  Rouges,  193,  210-11. 

de  Milton,  241. 

Cretins  and  Cretinism,  25,  282,  286-97. 

Crevasses,  5-6,  31,  35,  82,  183,  212,  358- 
63. 

filled  with  water,  346-47. 

Croz,  Jean  B.,  42,  167,  195-96,  261. 

Michel   A.,  18,   42,   166-6!'.   171 

173,  194-96,  200,  202,  204,  206-7 
211,  215-17,  225,  228,  235-37,  239 
40,  242-44,  246-7,  253-4,  260,  261 
264-66,  269-70,  277,  280-81,  331 
32,  334-35,  340-41,  352,  359,  370 
72,  374,  376-79,  383-86,  390-93 
425. 

Crystals,  235,  349. 

Cullinan,  Mr.  F.  J.,  432. 

Mr.  It,  429. 

Cupelin,  Edouard,  427. 

Cuivs.  7,  9,  40. 

Cust,  Mr.  A.,  430. 

Custom-houses,  118-19. 

DacqcjS,  Mons.  Eug.,  430. 

Dana,  Prof.,  on  fiords,  319. 

Daniell,  Mrs.  J.  H.,  109. 

Dard,  Gorge  of,  44. 

Dauphin,  Le,  Village -of,  19. 

Dauphim',  12-44,  116-17,  166-218,  341. 

Davidson,  Mr.  \V.  K.,  339,  428. 

Davies,  Mr.,  414-15. 

Dawkins,  Mr.  F.,  427. 

Mehy,  Hen  M..  427. 

D.iming,  Mr.  H.,  426. 

Dent,  Mr.  Clinton  T..  426,  429. 

Mr.  E.,  429. 


INDEX. 


I.")  I 


Demi    Blanche,  84,  100,  101,   151,  165, 
253,  255,  260-67,  270,  381. 

Col  de  la,  260. 

Helens,  9,  85,  100,  106,  145-7,  158, 

160,  198,  358,  411,  416. 
1).  \  in,  Mons.  G.,  428. 
Devouassoud,  F.,  427. 
Digny,  Mons.  T.  de  Cambray,  432. 
Disco  Bay,  234,  345. 
Disgrazia,  382. 
Doire  Torrent,  356. 
Dolent,  Col,  333-39,  356,  363. 

Mont,   223,   225-27,  238,  333-34, 

349,  356. 
Dollfus-Ausset,  Mons.,  99,  313. 

Quotation  from,  8,  257. 

Doni,  7,  75,  165. 
Dome,  Col  du,  356. 

Glacier  du,  230. 

Douglas,  Lord  Francis,  368-74,  383-85, 

389-92,  425. 
Droites,  Les,  223-24,  227,  348,  350. 
Dromadaire,  Bosse  du,  223,  230. 
Dm,  Aig.  du,  223. 
Diyness  of  air,  191. 
Dufour's  Map  (see  Maps). 
Dupiu,    Mons.    (Maire   of   Chaniounix), 

393. 
Durance,  River,  30. 

Valley  of  the,  12,  17,  24,  443. 

Durand,  Capt,  17,  28,  38. 

Col,  241. 

Glacier,  241. 

Earthquakes,  4. 

Ebihorn,  142. 

Eboulemeut,  Aig.  de  1',  356. 

Eccles,  Mr.  James,  425. 

Echoes  of  Thunder,  159-61. 

Sarins,  Col  des,  192,  194-5,  205. 

Pointe  des,  16,  17,  20,  35,  38,  166, 

169,  171,  179, 185. 188-205,  207-8, 

363,  376,  382. 
Edwards,  Mr.  E„  341. 
Eggischhom,  8,  78. 
Eiger,  340. 

Elliott,  Mr.  J.  M.,  409,  425. 
Embrun,  16,  24 
Encombres,  Col  des,  218. 


Encula,  Glacier  de  1',  194,  197,  199,  205. 
Hntraigucs.  Chalets  of,  209-11. 

Val  d\  22,  209-12. 

Kntivves,  Village  of,  300. 

Ericsson,  Mr.,  47. 

Erin,  Glacier  d',  147. 

Erosion  by  Glaciers,  127-41,  302-31. 

Water,  126-27,  129,  141,  152-4,  209. 

Ester  tag,  Herr  C,  431. 
Etaucons,  Vallon  des,  178,  185-86. 
Euripides,    Quotation    from,    209,    240, 

372. 
Evian,  321. 
Ewbank,  Mr.  L.,  427. 

Fairbanks,  Mr.  A.,  429. 

Mr.  W.,  429. 

Favre,  Mons.   (innkeeper),  11,  91,  101, 

108,  116,  163,  277,  367,  369,  403. 

Prof.,  327. 

Felicite,  Col  de,  402. 
Fell  Railway,  47-52. 
Fenetre,  Col  de,  of  Val  Toumanche,  148. 

Col  de  la,  357. 

Ferden,  44. 

Ferpecle,  Glacier  de,  268,  270. 

Ferret,  Col,  11,  221,  226. 

Val,  333. 

Findelengletscher,  141. 

Finlaison,  Mr.  John,  267. 

Finsteraarhorn,  382. 

Fischer,  Johann,  427. 

Fitzgerald,  Mr.  G.,  432. 

Fleas,  37,  81. 

Fog-bow  seen  from  the  Matterhorn,  387- 

88. 
Forbes,  Prof.  J.  D.,  16, 17,  44,  90, 124-5, 

174,  230,  299-300,  341,  437. 

Quotations  from,  275,  344-45. 

Forclaz,  Col  de  la,  240. 
Forcletta,  255. 
Ford,  Mr.  W.  \V.,  432. 
Fortnum  and  Mason's  Soup,  190. 
Forster,  Mr.  S.,  428. 
Foster,  Mr.  G.  E.,  423,  A2& 
Fourneaux  (Modane),  56,  69,  71. 
Fowler,  Mr.  R,  426. 

Mr.  Robert,  428. 

Freoman,  Mr.  C.  E.,  433. 


469 


i.\hi:.\. 


Ini-Miii.  t.-,  \  alley  of,  24. 

l'nit.silikc,  H.n  J.,  482. 

1  r.  n.  v,  Village  of,  178,  188. 

Fn>htitl(l,  Mr.  Douglas,  93. 

Fribourg,  8. 

Furggengletsch.  r.    124,    280,    369,   374, 

376,  415. 
Furggen  Grat,  75,  99,  124,  374. 
Furggjoch,  125,  280. 
Furrer,  Jos.,  433. 
V.,  432. 

(i\ii  i  iiMUN.  I'll,  369,  373,  381. 

Galibier,   Col    du,    19,    169,    175,    198, 
218. 

Galton,  Mr.  F.,  84. 

Gap,  Town  of,  39. 

Gardiner,  Mr.  F.,  426,  427. 

Mr.  J.,  426. 

Gardner,  Mr.  H.  D.,  433. 

Garibaldi!  11. 

Gastaldi,  Prof.,  298-99,  321,  328. 

Gasteren  Thai,  2. 

Geant,  Aig.  du,  223,  356. 

Col  du,  333,  339,  353-54,  356. 

Glacier  du,  228. 

Geikie,   Sir  Archibald,  on  Modern  De- 
nudation, 323. 

Gemnii,  2,  3,  180,  185. 

Geneva,  11. 

Lake  of,  321-22. 

Genevre,  Col  du  Mont,  24,  57. 

Geology  of  the  Matterhorn,  434-36. 

Gex,  Daniel,  331. 

Gignod,  Town  of,  287. 

Gillioz,  Joseph,  426,  428. 

Gilly,  Kev.  W.  S.,  17. 

Gioment  (or  Giomen,  Gioraein,  Jonien), 
Hotel  at,  154,  405 

Giordano,  Signor  F.,  96,  121,  367,  380, 
401-3,  410,  425. 

his  death,  435. 

geological  section  of  the  Matter- 
horn,  434-6. 

observations  on  temperature  of  the 

Mont  Cenis  Tunnel,  61. 
Giraud,  Claude,  The  cabaret  of,  209 

Jean  Casimir  (porter),  20,  26,  29. 

Girdlestoue,  Rev.  A.  G.,  354,  425,  426. 


GltAJ  ii:hs  — 

d'Alli'-c  Blanche,  235. 

d'Axgmtiare,  227,  233,  239,  335,  339. 

d'Arsine,  194. 

Biesgletscher,  7. 

Blanc,  23,  194,  204-5. 

Bodengletsclic  r.  L28. 

de  Breney,  357-58. 

de  la  Bonne  Pierre,  189-91,  194,  199. 

de  la  Brenva,  223,  227. 

des  Bossons,  220,  230. 

Breithorngletscher,  288. 

du  Chardonnet,  230-37. 

Clos  de  l'Homme,  26,  31,  35. 

du  Dome,  230. 

Durand  (or  Zinalgletscher),  241. 

d'Erin  (or  Glacier  du  Mont  Albert), 

147. 
de  l'Encula,  194,  197,  199,  205. 
de  Ferpecle,  268,  270. 
Findelengletscher,  141. 
Furggengletscher,  124,  280,  369,  374, 

376,  415. 
du  Geant,  223. 

Gornergletscher,  4-6,  126-27,  130,  233. 
Grenzgletscher,  233. 

Hohlichtgletscher,  248. 

Kleinmatterhorngletscher,  233. 

Lombard,  175-76. 

du  Lion,  77,  82,  107,  108,  114,  164, 
365,  419. 

Matterhorngletscher,    142,   273,    384, 
386,  390,  404,  419. 

Mer  de  Glace,  11,  220,  331,  341-43. 

de  Miage,  223,  227-8,  230-31,  233. 

de  Morning,  241-45. 

de  Mont  Albert,  147. 

du  Mont  Blanc,  230. 

du  Mont  Cerviu,  124,  164,  276. 

du  Mont  Dolent,  226. 

Monte  Rosagletscher,  233. 

Noir,  23,  194,  199',  200,  203,  205. 

Ober  Theodulgletscher,  369. 

d'Otemma,  358-59. 

de  la  Pilatte,  194,  210,  215-17. 

Rothhorngletscher,  248. 

de  Saleiuoz,  236-37. 

Sapeniere  (or  du  Sele),  23,  25-6,  194. 

Schonbuhlgletscher,  233,  262,  265. 


INDEX. 


453 


Glaoieks  [Continued) — 
Schwiirzegletscher,  233. 
du  Sele  (or  Sapeniere),  23,  25-6,  194. 
Stockgletscher,  143,  233,  437. 
de  Talefre,  225,  300,  348. 
Tiefenmattengletscher,  100,  104,  143, 

145-46,  233,  437. 
de  Trelatete,  235. 
de  Triolet,  225-26,  354-56. 
Tsclringelgletscher,  2. 
Unter  Theodulgletscher,  5,  233. 
du  Vallon,  199. 
de  Valpelline  (Haut  Glacier  de  Za-de- 

Zan),  437. 
Za-de-Zan  (or  Zardesan),  144-45,  147. 
Zinalgletscher    (or  Glacier   Durand), 

241. 
Z'Muttgletscher,  75,  76,  82,  100,  103, 

141-44,  233,  264,  271,  273,  276, 

413,  434. 
Zwillinggletscher,  233. 

Glacier  action  in  the  Alps,  126,  129-141, 
298-331. 

in  Greenland,  133,  231,  233-4. 

in  Iceland,  135-37. 

Glacier,  Aig.  du,  223,  356. 

Blanc,  Col  du,  194. 

motion,    130-36,    299-300,    308-9, 

319-21. 
Glaisher,  Mr.  J.,  on  echoes  of  thunder, 

161. 
Glissading,  172,  355. 
Goats,  24,  123,  211. 
Godemar,  Val,  210,  211. 
Goehrs,  Herr,  death  of,  415. 
Goitre,  9,  288-91. 

Causes  of,  288-9. 

Inducements  to  produce,  289-90. 

Goleon,  Aig.  de,  175-6. 

Gonella,  Signor  F.,  431. 

Gornergletscher,  4-6,  126-27,  130,  233. 

Gornergrat,  4-6. 

Gorret,  Abbe  A.,  76,  388,  402-3,   418, 

424,  425. 

Charles,  365,  415-18,  428,  431. 

Gosset,  Mr.  P.  C,  in  an  avalanche,  399- 

401. 
Gotch,  Mr.  H.  G.,  430. 


Gouffre  des  Busserailles,  152-54. 
Gouter,  Aig.  du,  223-4,  372. 

Ddme  du,  223-4,  230,  356. 

Grand  Combin,  106,  151,  357. 

Cornier,  253,  255-57,  260. 

Col  du,  260. 

Grandes  Jorasses,  223-4,  227,  253,  331-2, 
353,  356. 

Col  des,  356. 

Grandis,  Mons.,  53-55. 
Grand  Paradis,  85. 

Pelvoux  de  Val  Louise,  23. 

St.  Bernard,  9-10. 

Tournalin,  123,  147-52,  411. 

First  ascent  of,  150. 

Grange,  Julien,  331-32. 

Grati,  Henri,  331. 

Grattoni,  Mons.,  53-54,  70. 

Grave,  La  (see  La  Grave). 

Graven,  Alois,  415. 

Greenland,  93,  323,  325-27,  345-47. 

Erosion  by  glaciers  in,  323,  325-27. 

Moraines  in,  231-34. 

Roches  nivdies  in,  133, 139,  325-26. 

Grenfell,  Mr.  W.  H.,  432,  434. 

Grenoble,  13,  18,  181. 

Grenzgletscher,  233. 

Gressoney,  Valley  of,  99. 

Griffiths,  Mr.  J.  D.,  432. 

Grimsel,  8,  180. 

Grindelwald,  Glacier-striated  rock  from, 

128. 
Grisanche,  Valley  of,  282. 
Grivola,  85,  98. 
Grove,   Mr.   F.   Craufurd,   146-47,   381, 

405-8,  413,  420,  423,  425. 
Gruetta,  Chalets  of,  356. 
Guayaquil,  418. 
Guessfeldt,  Herr  Paul,  425. 
Guggenbuhl,  Dr.,  295. 

Guides  mentioned  — 

Aimer,  Christian,  168-9,  171,  180, 
200-1,  203-6,  212,  215,  235- 
36,  240-47,  253-54,  264-66,  269- 
70,  278,  280,  334-35,  338,  340- 
41,  348,  351,  358,  364-65,  369, 
371,  426,  429,  431. 

Ulricb,  426,  428,  431. 


154 


iNur.x. 


Grow  DMntkmad  [OtmHmui) —  „ 
Aiideiiiii:itiiii.  BaaQa,  181, 
Anderegg,  Heinrich,  426. 
Jakob,  428. 

I..hann.    KJ:!,    |.!|. 

M.lchior,  90,   146,   179-81,   332, 

336,  341,   426,   427,  428,  430, 

431. 

Peter,  431,  433. 

Andermatten,    Franz,  390,  423,   426, 

427,  433. 

P.  J.,  429. 

Anserniin,  Augustin,  426,  428. 

F.,  425. 

Aufdemblatten,  Peter,  414. 
Aymonod,  J.,  420. 
Balmat,  Jos. ,  428. 
Baumann,  Hans,  425. 

Peter,  429. 

Bennen,  J.  J.,  77-79,  89-90,  113,  121- 

22,  399-401,  403,  407. 
Bergen,  Johann  von,  427. 
Bernett,  Peter,  425. 
Bevard,  A.,  399,  401. 
Beytrison,  P.,  411,  433. 
Bich,  Edouard,  416. 
Jean    Bapt,    147,    381,    403-4, 

406-7,  420,  425,  427,  428,  431. 
Biener,  Franz,  143,  253-55,  261,  264, 

268-70,  280,  334-35,  338,  358, 

365,  420,  426,  429,  432-33,  437- 

39. 

Johann,  418-19. 

Bohren,  Peter,  426,  429. 

Bonu'inul,  l'irrre,  17. 

Brautschen,  Joseph,  411-12,  415,  430- 

33. 

Joseph,   11.'). 

Burgener,  Alex.,  413,  426,  427,  428, 

429,  430,  431,  432,  433,  434. 

Alois,  432. 

Franz,  426,  428,  429,  430,  432. 

Fridolin,  415. 

Cachat,  Zach.,  351  -i>  2. 

Carrel,  Caesar,  110,  113,  116,  120-21, 

156-57,  365,  407,   L25. 
Jean-Antoine,  73,  76,  81,  84,  87, 

95-97,    110,    112-14,    116,  120- 

128,  128,  in.  1 18-60,  152-64, 


Ovidbb  in. hi ioned   ' buffo* 

I 'ami.  .Ii.ni  Antuint'  (continued) — 

166  58,    864-68,    871,    ■■ 
402-111,  118,  U5-18,  120,  424- 

J.  B.,  407,  425,  431. 

r.-Jftoqaee,   7t>,  77,  79,  81,   87, 

r_'i. 

Louis,  147,  42#,  430,   111. 

Pierre,  430,  431. 

Victor,  76,  424. 

Carrier,  Jean,  208. 

Chanton,  Jos.,  434. 

Clusaz,  Alexis,  331. 

Coulter,  Jos.,  430. 

Couttet,  Francois,  235-37. 

Croz,  J.  B.,  42,  167,  195-96,  261. 

Michel-Auguste,  18,  42,  166-69, 

171,  173,  194-96,  200,  202,  204, 
206-7,  211,  215-7,  225,  228, 
235-37,  239,  240,  242-44,  246- 
47,    263-64,    2<>0,  261,  264-66, 

70,     277,    280-81,    'V-\ 
334-35,  340-41,  352,  359,  370- 
72,  374,  376-79,  383-86,  390-93, 
425. 

Cupelin,  Edouard,  427. 

Devouassoud,  P.,  427. 

Fischer,  Johann,  427. 

l'urrer,  Jos.,  433. 

V.,  432. 

Gex,  Daniel,  331. 

(Jillioz,  Joseph,  426,  428. 

Gorret,  Charles,  365,  415-18,  428,  431. 

Grange,  Julien,  331-32. 

Grati,  Henri,  331. 

Graven,  Alois,  415. 

Hess,  Carl,  433. 

Imboden,  A.,  481-88. 

Joseph,  427,  429,  430,   431.    182, 

433,  434. 

P.,  429. 

Imseng,  Abraham.   127,  129,  480, 
433. 

Benjamin,   1 82. 

Ferdinand,   414,   426,  429,  430 

431,  432,  433,  434. 

Inabnit,  C,  412,  433. 

.hum,  Johann,  332,  339,  426,  430. 


ixi>i:x. 


l.V> 


Queues  mentioned  [Oontintud) — 
Julen,  Moritz,  429. 
Kentinetta,  A.,  413,  434. 
Kimbel,  C,  426. 

Joseph,  432. 

Nicholas,  409,  425,  426,  427,  428, 

429,  430. 

Peter,  409,  425-27,  429-32. 

P.  J.,  427,  429-31. 

Kohler,  J.,  433. 
Kronig,  Fridolin,  414. 

Johann,  90,  94,  95. 

J.  M.,  427,  432. 

Langen,  Jos.,  428,  429,  431,  432. 
Lanier,  Laurent,  339,  428. 
Lauber,  Joseph,  428,  431,  432. 
Lauener,  Christian,  253,  260,  267,  426, 

427,  '430. 

Ulrich,  253,  423,  426. 

Lochmatter,    Alex.,    390,    427,    429, 

430. 
Joseph  Marie,  390,   409,    411-2, 

425-29,  431-33. 
Maquignaz,  Emmanuel,  147,  425,  426, 

432. 

Gabriel,  76,  424. 

J.  B.,  420. 

J. -Joseph,  147,  365,  401-2,  407-9, 

423,  425-32. 
J.-Pierre,  147,  408,  409,  425-31, 

433. 

Victor,  425,  426,  428,  431,  433. 

Martin,  Jean,  427,  429. 
Maurer,  Andreas,  428,  430,  432. 
Meynet,  J.-Augustin,  403,  425. 

Salomon,  406,  425,  429,  431. 

Mooser  (?  Moser),  L.,  419. 
Moser,  J.,  429-31,  433. 
Miiller,  P.,  429. 
Nageli,  B.,  427,  428,  429. 
Nance,  J.  J.,  399,  401. 
Payot,  Alphonse,  430. 

Frederic,  390. 

Michel,  225,  237,  239. 

Michel  C,  434. 

Perm,  F.,  430. 

J.,  429,  430. 

Peter,  88,  166,  194,  351-52,  390, 

401-2,  423,  426,  430. 


QUID  SB  mentioned  ( Continued)  — 
Perrod,  J.  M.,  331. 
Pexraqnet,  .1.  li.,  420. 
Pession  (?),  95-96. 

Elie,  425,  428. 

Petrus,  Johann,   413,  428,  429,  430, 

434. 
Peyrotte,  Bartolommeo,  166. 
Pic,  Alexandre,  188-89. 
Pollinger,  A.,  427,  428,  429,  431,  432, 

434. 

L.,  428. 

Ranier,  A.,  430. 

Rebot,  F.,  399,  401. 

Rey,  Emile,  434. 

Ritz,  Anton,  360,  426,  431. 

Rodier  (of  La  Berarde),  188-91. 

Rubi,  Peter,  412-13,  426-7,  429,  433. 

Santo,  S.,  433. 

Sarbach,  F.,  429,  430. 

Ignace,  427,  428,  430. 

Joseph,  428-32. 

Peter,  430,  434. 

Schlapp,  Melchior,  426. 

Schlegel,  ,  432. 

Semiond,  Pierre,  22-3,  25-9,  32-3,  35, 

37. 
Seraphin,  Henri,  428,  432. 
Spechtenhauser,  Gabriel,  426. 
Sulzer,  Peter,  428. 
Summermatter,  A.,  428. 
Supersax,  A.,  433. 
Tairraz,  Jean,  390. 

Jean  (of  Aosta),  286,  357. 

Tannler,  Johann,  253. 
Taugwald,  Johann  zum,  90,  95. 

Matthias  zum,  80. 

Taugwalder,  Gabriel,  433 

Joseph,  419,  428,  429,  430,  431, 

432,  433. 
Peter,  fils,  368,  372,  374-75,  384, 

386-89,   401-2,   423,    425,    426, 

427,  428,   429,   430,  432,  433, 

434. 
Peter,  pere,  80,  88,  368-74,  376, 

383-89,  391-92,  425. 
Toumier,  Alexandre,  208. 
Truffer,  F.,  427,  429. 
J.,  427,  428. 


456 


IX  !>!■:. X. 


QVIBM  mentioned  [Continued) —     ,, 

TruHVr,  Plana,   »•_".».{•_'. 

V.iut/.  B.,  L38,  481. 

Viinnin,  Jos.,  260,  373. 

Water,  Anton,  li::,  181-82. 

Ztil.rr,  V.,  430. 

EorMggan,  Plana,  ASS. 

Zurbriicken,  Louis,  414,  434. 

Zurtluh,  Franz,  267. 
Guil,  Gorge  of,  12,  38,  44. 
Guy  and  Dagand  on  Goitre,  291. 

Cretinism,  295. 

Guyot,  Prof.,  328. 
Gysi,  Mr.  Oscar,  418-19. 

Hadow,  Mr.  D.,  370-73,  376-77,  383-85, 

390,  392,  425. 
Hall,  Mr.  W.  E.,  146-47. 
Hartley,  Mr.  J.  W.,  339,  429. 
Haushofer,  Herr  M.,  430. 
Haut  de  Cry,  78,  399. 
Havre,  18. 

Hawker,  Rev.  W.  H.,  93,  253. 
Hawkins,  Mr.  C.  H.,  427. 

Mr.  Vaughan,  77-79,   81,  86,  96, 

103,  271,  424. 
Hawkshaw,  Mr.  J.  C,  18. 
Hazel,  Mr.  J.,  430. 
Headley,  Mr.  F.  W.,  428. 
Heathcote,  Mr.  R.  B.,  162,  401-2,  126. 
Hecke,  Herr  Carl,  432. 
Herbriggen,  Village  of,  421. 
Herens,  Col.  d\  125,  261-2,  268-71. 

Dent,  9,  85,  100,  106,  145-7,  158, 

160,  198,  358,  411,  416. 

Val,  44. 

Hess,  Carl,  433. 

Hickson,  Quotation  from,  88. 

Hill,  Mr.  A.  du  Boulay,  431. 

Himalayas,  93. 

HinchclifTs  Summer  Months,  180. 

Hints  to  Hosts,  155. 

Hirondelles,  Col  des,  356. 

Hoare,  Mr.  \\.  *.,  427,  434. 

Hoblicbt,  390. 

Hohlichtgletscher,  248. 

Hotter,  Signor  O.,  410,  425. 

Homer,  Quotations  from,  156,  166,  353. 

Hooker,  Sir  Joseph  D. ,  93. 


Boraby,  Mr.  E  ,  429. 

Rev.  J.  J.,  260. 

H'.n.li,   4,  6,  74,  77,   88-89,   124,   280, 

369,  373,  375,  389-90,  40H,  111.  IK,. 

480. 
Howard,  Mr.  0.  l'..  i 
Hudson,  Rev.  Charles,  370-77,  383,  385, 

390,  392,  425. 
Hulton,  Mr.  P.  C,  427. 

Mr.  C  K.,  427. 

Hunchback  of  Breuil  (see  Meynet,  Luc). 
Hutchins,  Mr.  E.,  426. 
Hutchinson,  Mr.  W.  (}.,  433. 
Hutcliison,  Mr.  J.  A.,  433. 

Ice-Avalanches,  2,  7,  142,  245,  437. 
Ice-axes,  6,  106,  335-37. 
Ice-fall,  243,  354-55. 
Ice-slope,  334-35,  338-39. 
Imboden,  A.,  431-33. 

Joseph,  427,  42!' 

P.,  429. 

Imseng,  Abraham,  427,  429-30,  432-33. 

Benjamin,  432. 

Ferdinand,  414,  426,  429-34. 

Inabnit,  C,  412,  433. 

Incendiarism,  117. 

Interlachen,  8,  295. 

Isoard,  Col,  44. 

Ivrea,  287,  298-301,  308,  328,  330. 

.Iac  kson,  Mr.  J.,  426,  431. 

Mr.  E.  P.,  432. 

Jacomb,  Mr.  Frederick  W.,  42,  144. 
Jakobshavn  (North  Greenland),  345. 
Jardin,  The,  11,  225,  350,  353-54. 
Jarvis,  Dr.  Edward,  on  Causes  of  In* 

292. 
Jaun,  Johann,  332,  339,  426,  430. 
Javelle,  Mons.  E.,  425,  428. 
Jerusalem,  Mr.  A.,  433. 
Jew,  The  Wandering,  74. 
Joanne,  Mons.  Ad.,  Quotations  from,  13, 

169-70,  173,  175,  218. 
Johnson,  Mr.  Cyrus,  342. 
Jordan,  Mr.  W.  Leighton,  486. 
Jose,  Mr.  T.,  432. 
Julen,  Moritz,  429. 
TmwrailT    Lea,  of  Val  Tournanche  (or 

Mont  Albert),  147. 


IXDEX. 


467 


Jungfrau,  2,  8S7. 
Juviana,  Village  of,  133. 

Ku.hermatt,  390. 

Kalpetnn,  4211 

Kelso,  Mr.  W.  B.  U.,  425,  426. 

Kennedv,  Mr.  B.  S.,  423. 

Mr.  Thomas  S.,  88,  89,  100,  101, 

261-62,  265,  267,  337-38,  352,  370, 

373,  409,  424. 
K.'iitinetta,  A.,  413,  434. 
Kin-.  Mr.  R.,  430. 

Rev.  S.,  122,  285,  293. 

Kitson,  Mr.  T.  H.,  431. 
Kitten,  .Mr.  W.,  430. 
Kleinmatterhorngletscher,  233. 
Knowles,  Sheridan,  Quotation  from,  250. 
Knubel,  C,  426. 

Joseph,  432. 

Nich.,  409,  425-30. 

Peter,  409,  425-27,  429-32. 

P.  J.,  427,  429-31. 

Kohler,  J.,  433. 

Kbtlugja  (Iceland),  135-36. 

Kronig,  Fridolin,  414. 

Johann,  90,  94,  95. 

J.  M.,  427,  432. 

La  BSrarde,  Village  of,  35,  178-9,  186, 

188-9,  191,  194,  217. 
La  Bessee,  Village  of,  12,  16,  19-20,  29, 

30,  34,  210. 
Lac  Noir  (see  Schwarzsee). 
Ladoucette,  Mons.  J.  C.  F.,  17,  44. 

Quotations  from,  15,  21,  39,  188. 

Lafitte,  Mons.  Charles,  57. 

La  Grave,   Village   of,   13,   19,   173-75, 

177-82,  184-5. 
Lake  basins  (see  Ramsay). 
La  Pisse,  Village  of,  22,  29. 
Lamb,  Mr.  H.,  428. 
Laminated  structure  of  glaciers,  345. 
Lammer,  Herr  G.,  414. 
Langen,  Jos.,  428-29,  431-32. 
Lanier,  Laurent,  339,  428. 
Lanslebourg,  46,  49,  52. 
Latham,  Mr.  H.,  433. 
Lauber,  Herr  (Doctor  at  Zermatt),  125. 
Joseph,  428,  431-32. 


Lauener,  Christian,  253,  260,  267,  426, 

427,  430. 

Ulrich,  253,  423,  426. 

Lautaret,    Col    de,    13,    19,    174,   180, 

218. 
Lauterbrunnen,  Valley  of,  2,  258. 
Layton,  Mr.  C.  E.,  433. 
Leach,  Mr.  A.  F.,  127. 
Leaf,  Mr.  W.,  430. 
Leatham,  Mr.  E.,  427. 
Le  Chalp,  Village  of,  40. 
Lee-sides  (of  glacier- worn  rocks),  132-35, 

137-38,  309-311. 
Leman,  Mr.  J.  C,  432. 

Mrs.  Margaret,  432. 

Le  Monta,  Village  of,  40. 
Lendenfeld,  Herr  Rob.  von,  433. 
Leschaux,  Aig.  de,  356. 

Col  de,  356. 

Lesseillon,  Fort,  49. 
Leukerbad,  3-4,  185. 
Levy,  Mr.  R.,  433. 
Lewis,  Mr.  W.  A.,  429. 

Mr.  W.  J.,  429. 

Lightning,  36,  90-91,  159-62,  401-2. 

Lindt,  Herr  R.,  428. 

Lion,  Col  du,  77-79,  82-86,  89,  90,  94, 

96,  103,  106,  110,  112,  114,  143, 

156-57,  161,   274,  375,  403,  406, 

416-7,  419-20. 
Glacier  du,  77,  82,  107,  108,  114, 

164,  365,  419. 
Tete  du,  77,  82,  83,  85,  94,  96, 107, 

403,  419. 
Lochmatter,  Alexandre,  390,  427,  429- 

30. 
Jos. -Marie,  390,  409,  411-12,  425- 

29,  431-33. 
Lognan,  Chalets  of,  238-39,  339. 
Lombard,  Glacier,  175-76. 
Lorria,  Herr  A.,  414. 
Loschge,  Signor  H.,  430,  432. 
Lotschen  Thai,  44. 
Louise  (see  Val  Louise). 
Loup,  Col  de,  210. 
Loverell,  Mr.  W.  F.,  430. 
Lubbock,  Sir  John,  297. 
Lucerne,  Lake  of,  321. 
Luscher,  Dr.  C,  411,  433. 


3n 


468 


i\i>i:x. 


Lyell,  Sir  Charles,  301,  321,  324,-327, 
MS, 

Lylr.  Mr.  R.  S.,  426. 

Lyskamm,  99,  164-5,  382,  887,  411. 

M  \<  ih.n  \i.i>,  Mr.  Reginald  J.  S.,  18,  20, 
28-30,  32-37,  90,  96,  146-47,  191, 
423-24. 

McCormick,  Rev.  J.,  390. 

M'Clintock,  Sir  Leopold,  93. 

Maglioni,  Marquis,  427. 

Magnaghi,  Signor  C. ,  431 . 

Malan,  Mr.  H.  N.,  429. 

Mallet,  Mont,  356. 

Malval,  Combe  de,  19. 

Manilla  rope,  361,  370,  391. 

Maps — 

Bourcet's  Map  of  Dauphim'-,  16. 

Du four's     Map    of    Switzerland,    77, 

89,     145,    220,    222,    241,    246, 

364. 
French  Official  Map,  170.  17'),  176-78, 

191,  211. 
Italian  Survey,  150. 
Mkulefs  Map  of  Mont  Blanc,  221-22, 

339,  350. 
Reilly's  Map  of  Mont  Blanc,  220-22, 

238-39. 
the  Valpelline,  etc.,  147. 

Maquignaz,   Emmanuel,    147,  425,  426, 

432. 

Gabriel,  76,  424. 

J.  B.,  420. 

J. -Joseph,  147,  365,  401-2,  407-9, 

423,  425-32. 

J.-Pierre,  147,  408-9,  425-31,  433. 

Victor,  425-26,  428,  431,  433. 

Marbn'-es,  Aiguilles,  356. 
Marke,  Mr.  G.  B.,  425. 
Marmot-hunting,  112. 
Marriage  of  Idiots,  295-6. 
Marsh's  Man  and  Nature,  187. 
Martelli,  Signor  A.  E.,  429. 
Martignare,  Col  de,  174-76. 
Martigny,  8,  240,  399. 
Martin,  Jean,  427,  429. 
Martins,  Prof.  Charles,  298-9,  321. 
Mathews,  Mr.  C.  E.,  426,  431. 


Mathews.  Mr.   William,  18,  42,  98,  167, 
185,  195,  197,  393,  423. 

M  \ ttkrhorn  (or  Mont  Cebvin)— 
lhidge,  420. 

Cabane  on  the  Cravate,  402,  40.'.,  ill. 
420. 

East  Face,  409,    111.  413, 

420,  428. 

Hiirnli    Ridge,    409,    414, 

415,  420. 

at  the  foot  of  the  Great  Tower, 

1 1 5,  420. 
Camps  by  the  Author,  84-5,  94-9,  101, 

110,  112,  158,  374-5,  420. 
Chimney.  The,  76,  79,  86,  87,  90,  96, 

103,  106,  158,  403,  420,  424. 
Col  de  Felicite,  402. 
Col  du  Lion,   77-9,   82-4,  86,  89-90, 

94,  96,  103,   106,   110,  112,  114, 

143,  156,  161,  274,  375,  403,  406, 

416-17,  419-20. 
Couloir  du  Lion,  77-9,  82,  87. 
Cravate,    The,    106,    112,    11:'.,    879, 

402-3,  406,  410-11,  424. 
Crete  du  Coq,  143,  403,  421. 
Death  of  Mr.  Borckhardt,  414-5. 

Brantschen,  411-12. 

Jean-Antoine  Carrel,  415-18. 

Michel   Croz,   Lord  F.    Douglas, 

Mr.     Hadow,     and     Rev.     (  . 
Hudson,  385-86. 

Herr  Goehrs,  415. 

Dr.  W.  O.  Moseley,  412-13. 

Herr  Andreas  Seiler,  418-19. 

Earliest  attempts  to  ascend,  76-79. 
East  Face,   75-77,    79,   271-3, 

367,  374-6,  409-15,  420,  424. 
First  ascent  of,  370-92. 
Geological  section  of,  434-36. 
(Uacier  du'Lion,  77,  82,  107,  108,  114, 

164,  365,   11.'. 
Grove,  ascent  by  Mr.  F.  Craufunl.  :M. 

405-8,  420,  425. 
Height  of,  73,  96,  436  (see  plate). 
Lorria's  adventure,  414. 
Mummery's  route,  413. 
North  Cliffs,  142,  166. 
North-east  ridge,  97,  277,  375-6,  409, 

420. 


INDEX. 


459 


Ma  i  i  kkhorx  (Continued)  — 
Penhall's  route,  414. 
Plants  collected  upon,  98,  99. 
Routes  up,  419-20. 
Shoulder,    The    (1'Epaule),    89,    115, 

120,  122,  143,  163,  275,  381,  388, 

402-7,  424. 
South-east  Face,  75. 
South-west    ridge,    75,    78,    85,    89, 

103,    271,    273,    375,    379,    389, 

406. 
Staircase,   The   Great,   82,    106,   108, 
403. 

The  Little,  418. 

Structure  of,  273-76. 
Summit  of,  377-83,  410-11. 
Superstitions  about,  74,  380. 
Table  of  ascents,  425-34. 

attempts,  424. 

Tete  du  Lion,  77,  82,  83,  85,  94,  96, 

107,  403,  419. 
Tower,  The  Great,  96,  103-5,  110-11, 

115,  158,  274-5,  402-4,  416,  420, 

424. 
View  from  the  summit,  381-82. 

Maude,  Mr.  G.  E.,  433. 

Maudit,  Mont,  223,  227,  356. 

Maurer,  Andreas,  428,  430,  432. 

Maus,  Mons.,  53-54. 

Medail,  Mons.,  52,  54. 

Medwbrth     (Xiederworth),     Island    of, 

293. 
Meije,   La,   16,    19,   175,    177-8,    184-5, 

382. 
Breche  de  la,  178-9,  181-2,  184-5, 

210. 
Melchior  Anderegg  (see  Anderegg). 
Meiringen,  180. 
Mella,  Mons.,  57. 
Mer  de  Glace  (of  Mont  Blanc),  11,  220, 

331,  341-43. 

(of  Greenland)  231,  233-34. 

Mermod,  Mons.  G.,  431. 

Mons.  L.,  431. 

Merritt,  Mr.  D.,  429. 
Methuen,  Hon.  P.,  430. 
Meyer,  Herr  H.,  431. 
Meynet,  J. -Augustin,  403,  425. 


Meynet,  Luc  (the  hunchback  of  Breuil), 
91,  93-5,  97,  110,  112-13,  145-46, 
148,  156-57,  277,  279-80,  368, 
424. 

Salomon,  406,  425,  429,  431. 

Miage,  Aiguille  de,  223-4,  356. 

Col  de,  356. 

Glacier    de,    223,   227-28,    230-31, 

233. 

Middlemore,  Mr.  T.,  426. 

Midi,  Aiguille  du,  223-24. 

Mieulet,  Capt,  221-22,  339,  350. 

Millidge,  Mr.  E.,  426. 

Millot,  Mons.  A.,  428. 

Minnigerode,  Dr.,  433. 

Mischabelhbrner,  4,  7,  381,  411. 

Modane,  Village  of,  49,  52-57,  68,  69, 
71.  , 

Motfat,  Dr.,  on  Goitre,  288-9. 

Moine,  Aiguille  du,  349. 

Molines,  Village  of,  43. 

Morning,  Glacier  de,  241-45. 

Pass,  240-48. 

Mbnch,  340. 

Monetier  (Monestier),  19,  39. 

Monson,  Lord,  17. 

Monta,  Le,  Village  of,  40. 

Montalto,  Castle  of,  308,  314. 

Moutauvert,  11,  174,  351,  352,  354. 

Mont  Albert,  Glacier  de,  147. 

Mont  Blanc,  34,  98,  106,  151,  162,  174, 
193,  219-30,  233-39,  257,  280, 
298-300,  308,  333,  349,  352- 
53,  356,  358,  370-72,  382, 
416. 

Col  du,  356. 

Glacier  de,  230. 

Mont  Cenis  Pass,  45,  46,  169. 

Railway,  47-52. 

Tunnel,  52-71. 

Mont  Cervin  (see  Matterhorn). 

Glacier  de,  124,  164,  276. 

Mont  Dauphin,  Village  of,  12,  34,  21 1, 
443. 

Mont  Dolent,  223,  225-7,  238,  333-4, 
349,  356. 

Glacier  de,  226. 

Monte  Rosa,  6,  34,  85,  95,  97,  99,  149, 
151,  233,  298,  358,  382,  411,  434-5. 


160 


TNDEX. 


Monte  RoaagletsHirr,  888 

Mnntr  \is...  12,  19,  81-8   84,  :J7-8,  40- 

43,  99,  101,  151,  162.  382. 
Moore,   Mr.  Adolphw  W.,  93,  168,  175, 
181,  866,  816,  817-8,  235-6,  423. 

Death  of,  240. 

Moraines,   2,   11,  148-9,  173,  186,   189, 

205.  886-8,  881-84,  298-300,  316-7, 

355,  U8-4. 
Mont  Tondu,  Col  do,  235. 
Mooser  (?  Moser),  L.,  419. 
Morat,  8. 
Morgan,  Mr.  C.  L.,  429. 

Mr.  .1.  J.,  129. 

Mot-land's  History,  24. 

Morocco,  93. 

Morshead,  Mr.  F.,  125,  426-7,  430-1. 

Moseley,  I>r.  \V.  O.,  412-3,  433. 

Moser,  J. ,  429,  430-1,  433. 

Motets,  Les,  235. 

Mottard,  Dr.,  on  Goitre,  290. 

Mnutiers,  218. 

Muhlebach,  421. 

Mules,  3,  7-8,  119-20,  155. 

Mulets,  Grands,  224,  370,  372. 

Mulhahacen,  Pic  de,  99. 

Holler,  P.,  429. 

.Mummery,  Mr.  A.  F.,  413-4,  434. 

Murchison,  Sir  Roderick,  301,  327. 

Muston,  Alexis,  17,  24. 

\  M.Ki.i,  B.,  427-9. 

Herr  W.,  429. 

Nance,  J.  J.,  in  an  avalanche,  399,  401. 

Nantermod,  Mons.  Jos.,  431. 

National  sentiments,  20. 

Natural  pillars,  43-44. 

N-  II,  Felix,  14   42. 

Nerot,  Mons.  J.,  432. 

N.u.lu'it.l,  8. 

Lake  of,  321 . 

Nicholas,  Village  of  St,  4. 

N  imcs,  18. 

Nodier,  Baron  Ch..  17. 

Noir,  Glacier,   23,   194,  199,   200,   203, 

•205. 
Notaras,  Mr.  L.  ■!■ 

Obek  (;.\m:i.n.)i:N,  841,  869,  878,  381. 


OIkmIhikI.  -1. 

Obex  TheodolgUtsoher, 
Odoor  of  Sanctity,  81, 

Ooanhlnrm  R 

0*Gonnan,  Mr.  Alfred,  (88. 
Wan,  Ool  &'  (or  d'Oren),  358,  364. 
Orsieres,  Village  of,  11,  236. 
Ortler  Spitz,  177,  382. 
Oteinma,  fUacier  d',  358-59. 
Oulx,  Village  of,  57. 

l'.\<  ki..    Mr.   Charles,  on    plant*   in  the 

Pyrenees,  98-99. 
Pacsana,  Village  of,  11. 
Panoramic  views,  150-52.  'it!'. 
Panquero,  Mont,  148. 
Paris,  1,  2. 
Parker,  Messrs.  A.,  ('.,  and  S.,  76,  79, 

88,  424. 
Parry,  Sir  Edward,  on  fog-bows,  388. 

Passb — 
Argentiere,  Col  d',  356. 
I'.alme,  Col  de,  223,  240. 
l.onhomme,  Col  du,  218. 
Brenva,  Col  de  la,  356. 
Breuiljoch,  124-26,  277. 
Celar,  Col  de  (or  Col  du  Sellar),  811. 
Chardonnet,  Col  du,  235-36,  356. 
Color  del  Porco,  Col  del,  12. 
Dent  Blanche,  Col  de  la  (n6  Col  da 

Grand  Cornier),  260. 
Dolent,  Col,  333-39,  356,  363. 
Dome,  Col  du,  356. 
Durand,  Col,  241. 
Ecrins,  Col  des,  192,  194-5,  205. 
Encombres,  Col  des,  218. 
Fenetre,    Col  de    (Val    Touruauche), 
148. 

Col  de  la, 

l'.rret,  Col,  11,  2J1.  886. 

Forclaz,  Col  de  la,  240. 

Forcletta,  255. 

Furggjoch,  125,  280. 

Galibier,  Col  du,  19,   169,  175,  198, 

218. 
Giant,  (Jol  du,  333,  339,  353-54,  356. 
Gammi,  2,  8,  180,  185. 
Qenerra,  Col  du  Mont.  84 


INDEX. 


461 


Passes  (Continued)  — 
Glacier  Blanc,  Col  du,  194. 
Grand  Cornier,  Col  du  (Col  de  la  Dent 

Blanche),  260. 
Grandes  Jorasses,  Col  des,  356. 
Grand  St.  Bernard,  9-10. 
Grimsel,  8,  180. 

ll-rens,  Cold',  125,  261-2,  268-71. 
Hirondelles,  Col  des,  356. 
l'lnfernet,  174. 
Infranchissable,  Col  dit,  356. 
Isoard,  Col,  44. 
Lautaret,   Col  de,  13,   19,   174,   180, 

218. 
Leschaux,  Col  de,  356. 
Lion,  Col  du,  77-79,  82-86,  89,  90,  94, 

96,  103,  106,  110,  112,  114,  143, 

156-57,  161,  274,  375,  403,  406, 

416-17,  419-20. 
Loup,  Col  de,  210. 
Martignare,  Col  de,  174-76. 
Meije,  Breche  de  la,  178-9,  181-2,  184- 

85,  210. 
Miage,  Col  de,  356. 
Morning  Pass,  First  passage  of,  240-48. 
Mont  Blanc,  Col  du,  356. 

Cenis,  11,  45-71. 

Tondu,  Col  du,  235. 

Olen,  Col  d'  (or  d'Oren),  358,  364. 

Petersgrat,  253. 

Pierre  Joseph,  Col,  356. 

Pilatte,  Col  de,  209-218,  225. 

Portons,  Col  des,  358. 

Rochefort,  Col  de,  356. 

Says,  Col  du,  193. 

Seigne,  Col  de  la,  235. 

Sele,  Col  du,  193-4,  218. 

Sellar,  Col  du  (or  de  Celar),  211. 

Seylieres,  Col  de,  99. 

Stelvio,  177. 

Talefre,  Col  de,  353-56. 

Tempe,  Col  de  la,  192. 

Tete  Noire,  11. 

Theodule,  Col  (or  Matterjoch),  7,  87, 

89,  90, 104,  106,  121,  124-25,  257, 

271-72,   359-60,    365-66,    368-69, 

378,  434. 
Tour,  Col  du,  356. 
Tour  Noire,  Col  de  la,  356. 


Passes  (Continued) — 

Tour  Ronde,  Col  de  la,  356. 
Traversette,  Col  de  la,  40,  12. 
TrelatSte,  Col  de,  356. 
Triftjoch    (or    Col    de    Zinal),    241, 

248. 
Triolet,  Col  de,  225-26,  356. 
Va  Cornere  (or  Gra  Cornere,  Col  Cour- 

gnier,  Col  du  Mont  Corniere),  9- 

11,  147,  364. 
Valloires,  Col  de,  169. 
Valpelline,  Col  de,  141,  144-45,  344, 

437-42. 
Viso,  Col,  42. 
Voza,  Col  de,  235. 
Weissthor,  125. 
Zinal,  Col  de  (see  Triftjoch). 

Passingham,  Mr.  G.  A.,  426. 
Patience,  The  excellence  of,  228. 
Patois,  39. 

Payne,  Mr.  A.  W.,  430. 
Payot,  Alphonse,  430. 

Frederic,  390. 

Michel,  225,  237,  239. 

Michel  C,  434. 

Peaks — 
Aiguille  d'Argentiere,  223-25,  235-38, 

356. 
- —  de  Bionnassay,  223-24,  230,  356. 

de  Blaitiere,  223. 

du  Chardonnet,  223,  356. 

des  Charmoz,  223. 

du  Dru,  223. 

de  l'Eboulement,  356. 

du  Geant,  223,  356. 

du  Glacier,  223,  356. 

de  Goleon  (see  Bee  du  Grenier). 

du  Gouter,  223-4,  372. 

de  Leschaux,  356. 

de  Miage,  223-4,  356. 

du  Midi,  223-24. 

du  Moine,  349. 

du  Plan,  22a 

de  la  Sausse,  175-6,  184. 

de  Talefre,  353,  356. 

du  Tour,  356. 

de    Trelat.'t..    288*24,    227-30, 

281,  235,  356. 


lti-2 


INDEX. 


l'i  \ks  [Qontiwued) — 
Aigulle  de  Triolet,  2S 

Wit,-.    288-26,    227,    268,    331, 

Aiguilles  il'Arvt-,  169*74,  176. 

Marlm  as,  866. 

Al<  froide  (Sommet  de  1'Aile  Oroide), 

;.  203. 
Allaleinhorn,  381,  411. 
Alpliubel,  411. 

Arciues,  Pointe  des  (see  Serine),  17. 
Bans,  Les  (or  Mont  Bans),  193,  210. 
Bee  du  Grenier  (Aig.  de  Goleon),  1  75- 

76. 
Bee  de  Sale  (or  Becca  Salle),  100. 
Besso  (Lo  Besso),  242. 
Bietschorn,  411. 
Bonvoisin,  Pic  de,  210-11. 
Breithorn,  99,  382,  411. 
Chateau  des  Dames,  100. 
('hues  Blanches,  128. 
Courtes,  Les,  227. 

Crete  des  Bumfs  Rouges,  193,  210-11. 
Dent  Blanche,  84,  100,  101,  151,  165, 

268,  266,  260-67,  270,  381. 
d'Herens  (or  d'Erin),  9,  85,  100, 

106,145-47,  158,  160,  198,  358, 

411,  416. 
Disgrazia,  382. 
Dolent  (see  Mont  Dolent). 
Dom,  7,  75,  165. 

Droites,  Les,  223-24,  227,  348,  350. 
Kbihorn,  142. 

Serine,  Pointe  des,  16,  17,  20,  35,  38, 
166,  169,  171,  179,  185,  188-205, 
207-8,  363,  376,  882. 
Eggischhorn,  8,  78. 
Eiger,  340. 
1'insteraarhorn,  382. 
Gabelhorn,  241,  369,  878,  881. 
Goftter,  D3me  du,  228-24,  230,  356. 
1   OomUn  (or  Graffeniere),  106, 
161,  357. 
Grand  Cornier,  268,  266*7,  260. 
Grandee  Joneses,  228,  224,  227( 

11-82,  868,  81 
i id  Paradis,  85. 
Grand  Tournalin,  123,  147-52,  411. 


l'i  UU    '  '■•iituti'.'d)  — 

Grand  Tournalin,  Bret  aeoenl  of,  160. 

GriTO 

Banl  de  Cry,  78,  399. 

Sornli,  I.  6,  74,  77,  88-9,  L24, 

369, 

418,  420. 
Jnmeanx,  Lee  see  Mont  Albert). 
Jungfrau,  2.  227. 
Lion,  T§te  da  (see  Tete  du  Lion). 
Lyskamm,  99,  164-5,  382,  387,  411. 
Matterhoro    lioni  Gervin),  72-80,  94- 

98,  97-116,   L20-24,   1 11- 1- 

17,1,  17.1,    168-66,   186,   184,   221, 

27.:;,  267-68,  264-65,  271-80,  364- 

94,  401-20,  424-36. 
Miije,    La  (or  Aig.    du   Midi    de   la 

Grave),  16,   19,   175,   177-8,  184- 

85, 
liiscnabelhorner,  4,  7,  381,  ill. 
Kbnoh,  340. 

Mont   Hans   in   1/     B  UU  .  198,  2lo. 
Hani    I'.lanc,   84,   98,    106,    151,   162, 
174,  193,  219-30,  233-39,   267, 
280,    298-300,    308,    333, 
352-53,  356,  358,  370-72,  382, 
416. 

Albert  (or  Lee  Jnmeanx),  1 1". 

Brule,  145. 

Cervin  .see  Math  Thorn). 

Collon,  286. 

Dolent,  223,  225-27,  238,  Si 

349,  356. 

Mallet,  356. 

Maudit,  228,  227,  356. 

Panqaero,  148. 

Pelvoux  (see  Pelvoux). 

Penteret,  227. 

Plenrear,  358. 

Rouge,  226,  866. 

Rouss,  100. 

Saxe,  331. 

Sue,  227.  22'.'.  ! 

Monte  Rosa,  6,  34,  85,  95,  '.'7,  •.'!«.  1  I'.'. 
l.M,  233,  298,  358,  382,  111. 
lit  -35. 

Vis,.,  12,  19,  31-2.    M,    37-8,  40- 

43,  99,  101,  17.1.  162,  382. 
Ober  Gabelhorn,  241,  369,  373,  381. 


INDEX. 


463 


1Y\ks  {Continued) — 
Ortler  Spitz,  177,  382. 
Pclvoux,    Mont,    12,    14-38,    72,    90, 

166,  192-3,  203,  204,  206,  382. 
Petites  Jorasses,  356. 
Pic    de    la    Pyramide,   17,    28,    32-3, 

38. 
Pic  Sans  Xom,  38,  191,  192. 
Pigne  de  l'Allee,  255. 
Plines,  Pointe  des,  238. 
Rateau,  178,  185. 
Rimpfischhorn,  382,  411. 
Roche  Faurio,  191.  192,  194,  199. 
Ruinette,  253,  357-58. 
Ruitor,  98. 

Schallhorn,  241-43,  246. 
Sommet  de  1' Aile  Froide  (see  Alefroide). 

de  l'Eychouda,  443. 

Strahlhorn,  381,  411. 

Sue  (see  Mont  Sue). 

Tete  Blanche,  144,  270-71,  438. 

du  Lion,  77,  82,  83,  85,  94,  96, 

107,  403,  419. 

de  Valpelline,  144,  438. 

Theodulhorn,  124,  271,  276. 
Tour  du  Grand  St.  Pierre,  85. 

Noire,  La,  356. 

Ronde,  La,  356. 

Trifthorn,  241. 

Verte  (see  Aiguille  Verte). 

Wt-isshorn,    7,    72,    164-5,   242,   323, 

381. 
Weissmies,  4. 
Wetterhorn,  38,  340. 
Wildstrubel,  358. 
Zinal-Rothhorn,  241,  246,  381. 

Pebbles  are  not  nutritious,  348. 

Peebles,  Mr.  J.  H.  A.,  432. 

Pelvoux,  Mont,   12,  14-38,  72,  90,  166, 

192-3,  203,  204,  206,  382. 
Pendant,  Chalets  de  la,  239. 
Pendlebury,  Mr.  R.,  426. 

Mr.  W.  M.,  426. 

Penhall,  Mr.  W.,  414,  432,  434. 
Peraldo,  Signor,  417. 
Perazzi,  Signor  C,  430. 
Perpignan,  289. 
Perrn,  F.,  430. 


Perm,  J.,  429-30. 

Peter,   88,  166,   194,  351-52,  390, 

401-2,  423,  426,  430. 

Pession,  Signor  A.,  427. 

Elie,  425,  428. 

Petermann's  Atlas  of  Physical  Geography, 
Quotation  from,  232. 

Petersgrat,  253. 

Petites  Jorasses,  356. 

Petrus,  Johann,  413,  428-30,  434. 

Peuteret,  Mont,  227. 

Peyrotte,  Bartolomnieo,  166. 

Phillpotts,  Mr.  J.,  390. 

Pic,  Alexandre,  188-89. 

Pic  de  la  Pyramide,  17,  19-20,  28,  32- 
33,  38. 

Sans  Nom,  38,  191-2. 

Pickman,  Mr.  D.  L.,  429. 

Pierre  Joseph,  Col,  356. 

Pigeon,  Misses  A.  and  E.,  427,  429. 

Pigne  de  l'Allee,  255. 

Pilatte,  Col  de,  209-18,  225. 

Glacier  de  la,  194,  210,  215-17. 

Plan,  Aig.  du,  223. 

Plan  des  Aiguilles  (Chamounix),  11. 

Plasticity  of  glacier- ice,  130,  132. 

Pleureur,  Mont,  358. 

Plines,  Pointe  des,  238. 

Pliny  Min.,  Quotation  from,  372. 

Plutarch,  Quotation  from,  258. 

Po,  Sources  of  the,  12. 

Pollinger,  A.,  427-29,  431-2,  434. 

L.,  428. 

Porges,  Dr.,  340. 

Portons,  Col  des,  358. 

Powell,  Mr.  W.  W.  R.,  433. 

Pratt,  Mr.  J.  H.,  429,  430. 

Praz  Sec,  Village  of,  333. 

Pre  du  Bar,  Chalets  of,  226-27,  333. 

de  Madame  Carle,  205,  209. 

Prerayen,  Chalets  of,  144,  146-47,  358, 
364,  438. 

Prickard,  Mr.  A.  O.,  430. 

Prothero,  Mr.  G.  W.,  429,  431. 

Puckle,  Mr.  A.  D.,  428. 

Puiseux,  Mons.,  ascent  of  Mont  Pel- 
voux, 17,  20,  31. 

PulltT,  Mr.  A.  G.,  147,  IS7. 

Pyrenees,  98,  99. 


If,  1 


/.v/'/:.v. 


QUAJm  ground  down   by  ice,  82 

325-27. 
Queensberry,  Marquis  of,  368. 

Huintiliiin,  Quotation  from. 

Railway,  Dm  Fell,  47-52. 

The  Trans-Andean,  421. 

The  Zennatt,  421-22. 

Ramsay,   Sir  A.,   on   the   formation   of 

lake- basins,    301-304,   306-8,    318- 

331. 
Ranco,  Mons.,  54. 
Randa,  Village  of,  7,  421. 
Randon,  Marshal,  223, 
Ranier,  A.,  430. 
Rankine,  Mr.  L.  K.,  428. 
Rarefaction  of  the  air,  349. 
Rateau,  178,  185. 

Rebot,  P.,  in  an  avalanche,  399,  401. 
Reclus,  Mons.  E.,  quoted,  25. 
Reilly,  Mr.  A.  Adams-,  125,  218,  220-22, 
225,  227-30,  235-39, 249,  276,  341, 
354. 

Death  of,  238. 

Reiners,  Herr  F.,  430. 

Rey,  Emile,  434. 

Reynaud,  Mons.  Jean,  13,  18-20,  25-6, 

28-30,  34-6,  210,  214-18. 
Rhemes,  Valley  of,  282. 
Rhone  Glacier,  321. 

Valley,  4,  8,  288,  294-5,  314,  321, 

327. 
Rieu  Blanc,  Chalets  of,  172-4. 
Riffel  Alp  Hotel,  126. 
Riffelberg,  126,  272,  374,  376,  379. 
Riffel  Hotel  (Riffelhaus),  4,  6,  126,  272. 
Rimpfischhorn,  382,  411. 
Rink,  Dr.  H.,  347. 
Ritz,  Anton,  360,  426,  431. 

Rivkiw — 
Arc,  49,  174. 
Dora,  329. 
Drac,  193. 

Durance,  12,  30,  193. 
Ouil,  38,  42. 
Guisane,  19. 
Po,  12,  42,  298,  328. 
Rhone,  4,  329. 
Romanche,  19,  174,  181,  193. 


Robertson,  Rev.  J.,  39<t. 

Roche  Faurio,  191-2,  194,  199. 

Rochefort,  Col  de,  356. 

Rochemolles,  Valley  of,  56. 

Roches  moutonnies,  5,    132-35,   137-40, 

179,  181,  308-12,  315,  331. 
nivelies,  133-37,  139,  309-31' 

26. 
Rock-falls,  13,  31,  85,  114,  142, 146,  162. 
Rodier,  of  La  Berarde,  188-91. 
Rope,  use  of,  157,  334,  338,  869-M4. 
Rosa,  Monte,  6,  34,  86,  95,  07,  M,  1  L0, 

151,233,  298,358,382,  411,  184 
Rosenmund,  Herr  Max,  432. 
Rothhorngletscher,  248. 
Rothschild,  Mr.  A.,  426. 
Rouge,  Mont,  220,  866. 
Rouss,  Mont,  100. 

Rubi,  Peter,  412-13,  426-27,  429,  433. 
Ruinette,  First  ascent  of  the,  253,  357-8. 
Ruitor,  98. 
Ruskin,  John,  on  the  Matterhorn,  142. 

Saas,  4. 

Sachas,  Village  of,  443. 

St.  Christophe,  Village  of,  218. 

Valley  of,  17,  35. 

St.  Jean  d'Arve,  Village  of,  174. 

St.  Jean  de  Maurienne,  Village  of.  171 

St.  Jeoire  en  Faucigny,  70. 

St.  Julien  en  Maurienne,  290. 

St.  Maurice,  288. 

St.  Michel,   Village  of,   47-49,   52,  169, 

218. 
St.  Nicholas,  Village  of,  4,  409,  421. 
St.  Veran,  Village  of,  1 
St.  Vincent,  Town  of,  287. 
Saleinoz,  Glacier  de,  236-37. 
Salmond,  Mr.  H.,  427. 
Santelli,  Signor  E.,  429. 
Santhia,  298. 
Santo,  S.,  433. 
Sapeniere  Glacier  (or  du  Sele),  23,  25-6, 

194. 
Sarbach,  F.,  429,  430. 

Ignace,  427-28,  430. 

Joseph,  428-32. 

Peter,  430,  4il. 

Saunderson,  Mr.  L.,  426. 


INDEX. 


w;:» 


Sausse,  Aigs.  de  la,  175-6,  184. 

Chalets  de  la,  174-5. 

Vallon  or  Ravine  de  la,  171,  174- 

176. 
Saussure,  Mons.  H.  de,  431. 
H.  B.  de,  74,   122,  125,  154, 

288,  291,  298,  300,  341. 
Quotations  from,  72,  98, 

133,  231,  232,  275,  297. 
Sauzet,  Mons.  Paul,  425. 
Savage,  Dr.  G.  H.,  433. 
Savaranche,  Valley  of,  282. 
Saxe,  Mont,  331. 
Says,  Col  du,  193. 
Schallhorn,  241-43,  246. 
Schiess,  Prof.  H.,  411-12,  433. 
Schlapp,  Melchior,  426. 

Schlegel, ,  432. 

Schonbuhlgletscher,  233,  262,  265. 
Schrands,  179,  348. 
Schwarenbach  Inn,  180. 
Schwarzegletscher,  233. 
Schwarzsee  (Lac  Noir),   Chapel  at,  88, 
369,  373. 

Hotel  at,  126,  392,  419-20. 

Seigne,  Col  de  la,  235. 

Seiler,  Herr  Alex.,  125-26,  141,  271,  384, 

389,  409,  418. 

Death  of,  249. 

Andreas,  Death  of,  418-9. 

Joseph,  286,  431. 

Jules,  432. 

Sele,  Col  du,  193-4,  218. 

Glacier  du  (see  Sapeniere). 

Sella,  Signor  A.,  431. 

C,  431. 

Q.,  367,  402,  431. 

Yittorio,  407. 

Sellar,  Col  du  (or  de  Celar),  211. 
Selle,  Combe  (or  Vallon)  de  la,  210. 
Semiond,  Pierre  (guide),  22-3,  25-9,  32-3, 

35,  37. 
Seracs,  31,   75,   217,   226,   244-45,  346, 

390,  392. 
Seraphin,  Henri,  428,  432. 
Serra,  La,  299. 
Servieres,  Village  of,  44. 
Sesia,  Val,  migration  of  the  population, 
293. 


Settimo  Vittone,  308. 
Seylieres,  Col  de,  99. 
Shakespeare,  Quotations  from,  83,  118, 

282. 
Sierra  Nevada  (of  California),  100. 

(of  Granada),  99. 

Sierre,  240,  321. 
Simpson,  Mr.  A.  H.,  429. 

Mr.  W.  W.,  427. 

Singer,  Mr.  P.  A.,  430. 
Sinigaglia,  Signor  Leone,  416-18. 
Sion,  321,  399,  415. 

Castles  of,  314-5. 

Sismonda,  Prof.,  52,  67. 
Sloman,  Mr.  A.,  433. 
Smith,  Albert,  286. 

Mr.  H.  J.,  429. 

Snow-cornices,  33,  246,  334. 
Snowstorms,    88,  110,    158,  260,  416-7, 

438-9. 
Sommeiller,  Mons.  G.,  53-54,  57,  70-71. 
Sommet  de  l'Ailefroide  (see  Alefroide). 
Sommet  de  l'Eychouda,  443. 
Spechtenhauser,  Gabriel,  426. 
Staffed,  Chalets  of,  273,  414. 
Stalden,  Village  of,  4,  44,  421. 
Steenstrup,  Prof.  J.,  quoted,  135-36. 
Stelvio,  177. 

Stephen,  Mr.  Leslie,  180,  261,  337,  423. 
Stirling,  Mr.  W.,  429. 
Stockgletscher,  143,  233,  437. 
Stockje  (Stockhi),  143,  414,  437,  439. 
Strahlhorn,  381,  411. 
Stratification  of  snow,  343-46,  437-42. 
Striation    produced    by    glaciers,    128, 

133-34,  234,  309-12,  317. 
Stuart,  Mr.  W.  W.,  428. 
Studer,  Prof.  B.,  Quotations  from,  129, 

327. 
Sue,  Mont,  227,  229,  235. 
Sulzer,  Peter,  428. 
Summermatter,  A.,  428. 
Supersax,  A.,  433. 
Susa,  46-47,  50-52,  119. 

Taesch,  Village  of,  421. 
Tairraz,  Jean,  390. 

Jean    (hotelkeeper  and  ex-guide), 

286,  357. 


30 


46(5 


IX  HEX. 


Talefre,  Alg.de, 

Col  de,  First  passage  of,  353-56. 

Glacier  de,  225,  300,  348. 

Tannler,  Johann,  253. 
Taugwald,  Joliann  zuni,  90,  95. 

Matthias  ziim,  80. 

Taugwalder,  Gabriel,  433. 

Joseph,  419,  428-33. 

Peter,  pire,  80,   88,  368-74,  376, 

383-89,  391-92,  425. 
Peter,  fils,  368,    372,   374-5,   384, 

386-89,  401-2,  423,  425-30,  432- 

34. 
Taylor,  Mr.  C,  426. 

Mr.  J.,  433. 

Temi>c,  Col  de  la,  192. 
Temperatures,  8,  26,  36,  58,  60,  61,  64, 
69-71,  84,  96,  101,  164-5,  225,  259, 
266,  410,  416,  438,  440. 
Tendron,  Mr.  F.,  430. 
Tents,  84,  91-93,  95,  97,  101,  114. 
Termignon,  49. 
Tete  de  Bella  Cia,  145. 

Blanche,  144,  270-71,  438. 

du  Lion,  77,  82-3,  85,  94,  96,  107, 

403,  419. 

Noire,  11. 

de   Valpelline,   first  ascent  of  (?), 

144. 
Theodule  Col  (or  Matterjoch),  7,  87,  89, 
90,    104,    106,    121,    124-25,   257, 
271-2,    359-60,    365-6,    368-9,    378, 
434. 
Theodulgletscher,  5. 
Theodulhorn,  124,  271,  276. 
Theraulaz,  Mons.  C,  427. 
Thioly,  Signor  F.,  410,  425. 
Thomas,  Mr.  Percy  W.,  431. 
Thompson,  Mr.  C.  J.,  433. 
Thucydides,  Quotation  from,  246. 
Thun,  Lake  of,  321. 
Thunderstorms,  158-161,  242,  416. 
Tiefenmattengletscher,    100,    104,    143, 

145-46,  233,  437. 
Tims,  Les,  Village  of,  339. 
Tod,  Mr.  A.  M.,  428. 
Tondu,  Col  du  Mont,  235. 
Tour,  Aiguille  du,  356. 
Col  du. 


Tour,  La,  Village  of.  168. 
Tournalin,  Crainl.  128,  117 
Tourniei',  Alexandre,  208. 
Tour  Noire,  La,  856, 

Coldela,  B66. 

Ronde,  La,  356. 

Col  de  la,  356. 

Traversette,  Col  de  la,  40,  42. 
Trelatete,    Aiguille   de,   223-24,    227-30, 

231,  286,  868. 

Col  de,  356. 

Glacier  de,  235. 

Triftjoch  (or  Col  de  Zinal),  241,  248. 

Trifthorn,  241. 

Triolet,  Aiguille  de,  223,  225,  227,  334, 

353,  356. 
Col  de,   First  passage  of,  22648, 

356. 

Glacier  de,  225-26,  354-56. 

Truffer,  F.,  427,  429. 

J.,  427,  428. 

Pierre,  429-32. 

T8chingelgletscher,  2. 

Tschudi,  Quotation  from,  283. 

Tucker,  Mr.  C.  C,  93. 

Tuckett,  Mr.  F.  F.,  78,  166,  178,   189, 

192-97. 
Tunnel,    The    Mont    Cenis    (or    Mont 
Frejus),  52-71. 

annual  progress,  68. 

completion  of,  68-9. 

cost  of,  66-7. 

dimensions  of,  5!'. 

length  of,  55,  69. 

opening  of,  69. 

origin  of,  52-55. 

strata  pierced,  67. 

temperatures  in,  58,  60,  61,  64, 
69-71. 
Tin  in,  11,  69,  71,  119. 
Turtman  (or  Tourtoiiiagne),   Village  of, 

253,  266. 
Tyndall,  Prof.  John,  260,  323,  ) 

his  ascent  of  the  Weisshorn,  72. 

attempts  to  ascend  the  Matter- 
Ik. in,  77-79,  87,  89-90,  113-16, 
120-22,  162,  271,  406,  424. 

his  ascent  of  the  Mattel  limn, 
410,  426. 


ixm:.\: 


467 


Tywlall,  Prof.  John,  upon  the  Valleys  of 

the  Alps,  304-18,  322. 
Tyrol,  16,  44. 

Unter  Theodulgletscher,  5,  233. 
Utterson-Kelso,  Mr.  W.  E.,  425. 

Vachey,  La,  Village  of,  333. 
Va  Cornere  pass  (see  Passes). 
Val  d'Ayas,  99,  149,  151. 

Barthelemy,  100. 

Louise,  12,  16-17,  20-22,  25,  116. 

d'Ollomont,  357. 

Pelline,  9,  144-47. 

Col  de,  141,  144-45. 

Tournanche,  Valley  of,  9,  72,   75- 

77,  99,  100,  109,  110,  111,  119, 

122,  147-54,  357,  379,  388,  404-7, 

416,  434. 
Village  of,  9,  73,  80,  116, 

147, 152,  280-81,  364-66,  416,  418. 

Glacier  de,  125. 

Veni,  223,  231. 

Valloires,  Village  of,  169-70. 

Col  de,  169. 

Vallombrosa,  435. 

Vallon,  Glacier  de,  199. 

Valpelline,  Col  de,  141,  144-5,  344,  437- 

42. 
Vaudois,  14,  24-25. 

Valleys  of  the,  11. 

Vaughan,  Mr.  E.  L.,  433. 

Veined  structure  of  Glaciers,  344-47. 

Veins  in  Icebergs,  345,  347. 

Veleta,  Pichacho  de,  99. 

Venetz,  B.,  428,  431. 

Veni,  Val,  223,  231. 

Venos  (or  Venose),  Village  of,  178,  188, 

218. 
Vernon,  Mr.  G.  F.,  430. 
Verrex,  Town  of,  287. 
Verte,  Aiguille,   238-96,  227,  253,  331, 

340-41,  348-53. 

the  first  ascent  of,  340-52. 

Yeyrin,  Mons.  Emile,  427. 
Victor-Emmanuel,  King  of  Italy,  284. 
Victor-Emmanuel  Railway,  46,  54. 
Viege  (see  Visp). 
Viennin,  Joseph,  260,  373. 


Viesch,  Village  of,  8. 

Vignolles,  Mr.  Charles,  47. 

Villard  d'Arene,  Village  of,  15,  194. 

Villeneuve,  Town  of,  287. 

Ville  Vallouise,  Village  of,  21-22,  28-29, 

37,  194,  207,  209,  210. 
Ville  Vieille,  Village  of,  43-44. 
Vincent,  Mons.,  second  ascent  of  Ecrins, 

208. 
Virgil,  Quotation  from,  14. 
Viso,  Col,  42. 

Monte,  12,  19,  31-2,  34,  37-8,  40- 

43,  99,  101,  151,  162,  382. 
Visp  (or  Viege),  Village  of,  4,  7,  421. 
Vispbach,  421. 
Visp  Thai,  4,  44. 
Viverone,  300. 
Voza,  Col  de,  235. 

Wainewright,  Mr.  B.,  434. 
Waldo,  14. 

Walford,  Mr.  L.  F.,  428. 
Walker,  Mr.  Frank,  423,  426. 

Mr.  Horace,  168,  172-73,  179,  206, 

216,  218,  332. 

Miss  Lucy,  426. 

Waller,  Mr.  S.,  431. 
Wallroth,  Mr.  F.  A.,  426. 
Walter,  Anton,  113,  121-22. 
Wandering  Jew,  74. 
Warren,  Mr.  H.  C,  433. 
Watson,  Mr.  C.  E.  B.,  433. 

Mr.  P.,  431. 

Mr.  R.  Spence,  90. 

Weather  sides  (of  glacier -worn  rocks), 

134-35. 
Weightmann,  Mr.  C. ,  431. 
Weisshorn,  7,  72,  164-5,  242,  323,  381. 
Weissmies,  4. 
Weissthor,  125. 
Wellig  (hotelkeeper),  78. 
Wentworth,  Lord,  426. 
Wethered,  Rev.  F.  T.,  429. 
Wetterhorn,  38,  340. 
Whelpdale,  Mr.  W.  J.,  431. 
White,  H.  Kirke,  Quotation  from,  261. 
Whitehouse,  Mr.  H.  R.,  430. 
Whitney,  Mr.  J.   D.,  Quotation  from, 

100. 


168 


INDEX. 


Whitticr,  .1.  G.,  quotations  from,  3Q,  84. 

Whituvll,  Mr.  K.  EL,    188. 

Wigram,  Mr.,  91 

Wildmaii.  Mr.  \V.  B.,  48L 

Wihlstrubel,  358. 

Willink,  Mr.  II.  <!.. 

Wills,  Mr.  .lust ice,  340,  393,  423. 

Wilson,  Dr.  C,  433. 

Mr.  F.  E.,  433. 

Mr.  II.  S.,  430,  431. 

Wind,  84,  88,  90,  95,  287. 
Wolf,  Mr.  F..   128. 

Herr  F.  0.,  99,  415. 

Wyss,  Herr  F.,  431. 

Yi:\i;-i.r.Y,  Mr.  J.  P.,  432. 
Yosemite  Valley,  100. 
Young,  Mr.  J.,  426. 

Z\  in.  Z  \v  (or  Zardesan),  Glacier  dc, 
144-45,  147. 

Zaun,  179. 

Zermatt,  4-7,  75-77,  79,  88,  90,  97,  99, 
124-27,  141,  144,  184,  240-41,  246, 
248-9,  262,  267-68,  271-72,  276, 
281,  365-72,  374-77,  379,  382,  387: 


Zermatt  {Continued) — 

389-90,  392,  402,  404,  409-10,  412- 
15,  419-34,  437,  439. 

Club-room  of,  248-9,  122-8. 

English  church  at,  413. 

Hotel*  at,   125-26,   111,  248-49,   286, 
370,  384. 

Passes  from,  126. 

Railway  to,  126,  421-2, 
Zinal,  240-42,  248,  248,  256,  260,  369. 

Col  de  (or  Triftjoch),  241,  248. 

Zinalgletscher  (or  Glacier  Dnrand),  241. 
Zinal  Kothhora,  241,  246,  381. 
Z'Meiden,  Village  of,  255,  390. 
Z'Mutt,  380-81,  403,  406-7,  420,  484. 
7/ Mutt  Forests,  143. 
ZWIuttgletscher,  75-6,  82,  100,  103,  141- 
44,   233,   264,   271,   273,  276,    U8, 
434. 
Zuber,  F„  430. 
Zug,  Lake  of,  321. 
Zurbriggen,  Pierre,  425. 
Zurbriicken,  Louis,  414,  484. 
Zurlluh,  Franz,  267. 
Zurich,  Lake  of,  321. 
Zwillingsgletscher,  233. 


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