DESCENT OF THE MATTERHORN.(233)
Hudson and I again consulted as to the best and safest arrangement of the
party. We agreed that it would be best for Croz to go first,(234) and
Hadow second; Hudson, who was almost equal to a guide in sureness of foot,
wished to be third; Lord F. 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. The party
was being arranged in the above order whilst I was sketching the summit,
and they had finished, and were waiting for me to be tied in line, when
some one remembered that our names 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 commencing the descent of the
difficult part.(235) 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 F. 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.(236) As 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 the 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 himself; 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.(237)
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:(238) 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
companions sliding downwards on their backs, and spreading out their
hands, endeavouring to save themselves. They passed from our sight
uninjured, disappeared one by one, and fell from precipice to precipice on
to the Matterhorngletscher below, a distance of nearly 4000 feet in
height. From the moment the rope broke it was impossible to help them.
[Illustration: ROPE BROKEN ON THE MATTERHORN.]
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 in such a manner as to threaten us with the
fate of the others. Old Peter rent the air with exclamations of
“Chamounix! 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 between 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 cowardly—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 descended, 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 been
employed, for the purpose for which it was used. It was old rope, and,
compared with the others, was feeble. It was 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.(239) Even with their assurance the men
were sometimes afraid to proceed, and several times old Peter turned with
ashy face and faltering limbs, and said, with terrible emphasis, “_I
cannot!_”
[Illustration: FOG-BOW SEEN FROM THE MATTERHORN ON JULY 14, 1865.
“THE TAUGWALDERS THOUGHT THAT IT HAD SOME CONNECTION WITH THE ACCIDENT”]
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. Convinced 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 defined,
except where it was lost in the clouds, this unearthly apparition 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 movements had no effect upon it. The spectral forms remained
motionless. It was a fearful and wonderful sight; unique in my experience,
and impressive beyond description, coming at such a moment.(240)
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 son said in French, “Monsieur.” “Yes.” “We
are poor men; we have lost our Herr; we shall not get paid; we can ill
afford this.”(241) “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_.”(242)
[Illustration: MONSIEUR ALEX. SEILER.]
Who would answer such a proposition? I made them no reply in words,(243)
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 daybreak the descent was resumed, and from the Hörnli
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 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 to ascend the
Hohlicht heights, above Kalbermatt and Z’Mutt, which commanded the plateau
of the Matterhorngletscher. They returned after six hours, and reported
that they had seen the bodies lying motionless on the snow. This was on
Saturday; and they 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 excommunication 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 Perrn 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;(244) another Englishman lent us Joseph Marie and Alexandre
Lochmatter. Frédéric 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 Hörnli. From thence we
went down to the right of the ridge,(245) and mounted through the _séracs_
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.(246) 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 F. Douglas we could see
nothing.(247) We left them where they fell; buried in snow at the base of
the grandest cliff of the most majestic mountain of the Alps.
[Illustration: THE MANILLA ROPE.(248)]
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 F. 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 employment
of a rope so greatly inferior in strength when there were more than 250
feet of the better qualities still remaining out of use.(249) For the sake
of the old guide (who bore a good reputation), 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
from the grave suspicions which at once fell upon him. The questions, I
was told, were put and answered; but the answers, although promised, have
never reached me.(250)
[Illustration: THE SECOND ROPE.]
[Illustration: THE ENGLISH CHURCH AT ZERMATT.]
Meanwhile, the administration sent strict injunctions to recover the
bodies, and upon the 19th of July, twenty-one men of Zermatt accomplished
that sad and dangerous task.(251) Of the body of Lord Francis Douglas
they, too, saw nothing; it is probably still arrested on the rocks
above.(252) The remains of Hudson and Hadow were interred upon the north
side of the Zermatt Church, in the presence of a reverent crowd of
sympathising friends. The body of Michel Croz lies upon the other side,
under a simpler tomb; whose inscription bears honourable testimony to his
rectitude, to his courage, and to his devotion.
So the traditional inaccessibility 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 relentless
enemy—conquered but not crushed—it took terrible 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 yard, it yields to forces
which nothing can withstand. That time is far distant; and, ages hence,
generations unborn will gaze upon its awful precipices, and wonder at its
unique form. However exalted may be their ideas, and however exaggerated
their expectations, none will come to return disappointed!
With the Ascent of the Matterhorn, my mountaineering in the Alps came to a
close. The disastrous termination, though casting a permanent cloud over
otherwise happy memories, and leaving a train of life-long regrets, has
not altered my regard for the purest, healthiest and most manly of sports;
and, often, in grappling with every day difficulties, sometimes in
apparently hopeless tasks, encouragement has been found in the remembrance
of hard-won victories over stubborn Alps.
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, but we know that where there’s a
will there’s a way: and we come back to our daily occupations better
fitted to fight the battle of life, and to overcome the impediments which
obstruct our paths, strengthened and cheered by the recollection of past
labours, and by the memories of victories gained in other fields.
I have not made myself an apologist for mountaineering, nor do I now
intend to usurp the functions of a moralist; but 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
which is the product of our exertions; we 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 development of manliness, and the evolution, under
combat with difficulties, 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 enjoyment 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 tops, seeming to mount up for ever and ever; I hear the music of
the distant herds, the peasant’s jodel, and the solemn church-bells; and I
scent the fragrant breath of the pines: and after these have passed away,
another train of 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.
[Illustration: The end]
APPENDIX.
*A.* THE DEATH OF BENNEN.(253)
On February 28, 1864, Mr. P. C. Gosset and Mr. B—— started from the
village of Ardon (about mid-way between Sion and Martigny), to make the
ascent of the Haut-de-Cry (9688 feet), with the guides J. J. Nance, F.
Rebot, A. Bevard, 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 began crossing it on a
horizontal curve, so as to gain the E. arête. The inflexion or dip
of the couloir was slight, not above 25 feet, the inclination near
35°. We were walking in the following order:—Bevard, Nance,
Bennen, myself, B., and Rebot. Having crossed over about
three-quarters of the breadth 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 and get on the arête, from which he was not more than
fifteen feet distant. Bennen then told me to follow. I tried his
steps, but sank up to my waist in the very first. So I went
through the furrows, holding my elbows 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 come to the false
conclusion that the snow was accidentally softer there than
elsewhere. Bennen advanced; he had made but a few steps when we
heard a deep, cutting sound. The snow-field split in two about
fourteen or fifteen feet above us. The cleft 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 Bennen’s
voice, ‘We are all lost.’ His words were slow and solemn, and
those who knew him felt what they really meant when spoken by such
a man as Bennen. They were his last words. I drove my alpenstock
into the snow, and brought the weight of my body to bear on it. I
then waited. It was an awful moment of suspense. I turned my head
towards Bennen to see whether he had done the same thing. To my
astonishment I saw him turn round, face the valley, and stretch
out both arms. The snow on which we stood began to move slowly,
and I felt the utter uselessness of any alpenstock. I soon sank up
to my shoulders, and began descending backwards. From this moment
I saw nothing of what had happened 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 saw 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 prevent 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
yards’ 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 stopped, but the
snow behind me was still in motion; its pressure on my body was so
strong, that I thought I should be crushed to death. This
tremendous pressure lasted but a short time; I was covered up 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 stopped, and I was frozen in. Whilst
trying vainly to move my arms, I suddenly became aware that the
hands as far as the wrist had the faculty 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 my
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 my 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 the first
moment that none of my fellow-sufferers had survived, that I did
not even think of shouting for them. I then made vain efforts to
extricate my arms, but found it impossible; the most I could do
was to join the ends of my fingers, but they could not reach the
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.(254)
[Mr. B. 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 elsewhere that he found numerous traces of electric discharges
upon its summit.](255)
“On July 30, 1869, in company with Peter Perrn,(256) 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 commenced the descent in the
following order:—Taugwalder first, myself next, then Perrn, and
Maquignaz last. On approaching the Col do Felicité(257) I received
a sharp, stinging blow on the leg, and thought, at first, that a
stone had been dislodged; but a loud thunder-clap at once told me
what it was. Perrn also said that he had been hit on the leg. In a
few moments I received a hit on the right arm, which seemed to run
along it, and resembled a shock from a galvanic battery. At the
same time all the men gave a startled shriek, and exclaimed that
they were hit by lightning. The storm continued near us for some
little time, and then gradually died away. On arriving at the
_cabane_ I found that Perrn had a long sore on his arm; next
morning his leg was much swollen and very weak. We descended to
Breil 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
mist.”
*C.* NOTE TO CHAPTER VII.
It was stated in the commencement of this chapter that the Pointe des
Ecrins was the highest mountain in France. I have learned, since that
paragraph was written, that Captain Mieulet has determined that the height
of the Aiguille Verte is 13,540 feet; that mountain is consequently 78
feet higher than the Pointe des Ecrins, and is the highest in France.
*D.* SUBSEQUENT HISTORY OF THE MATTERHORN.(258)
The Val Tournanche natives who started to facilitate the way up the
south-west ridge of the Matterhorn 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 its shelter. On the
first fine day (13th of July) they began their work, and about midday 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 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.(259) Upon the 15th they went down to Breil and reported their
ill-success to M. Giordano (see p. 281). That gentleman was naturally much
disappointed, and pressed the men to set out again.(260) 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 make further
sacrifices 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 you (turning to
the Abbé Gorret) or the others will come, I will start again immediately.”
“Not I!” said one. “No more for me,” cried a second. “If you would give me
a thousand francs I would not go back,” said a third. The Abbé Gorret
alone volunteered. This plucky priest was concerned in the very first
attempts upon the mountain,(261) and is an enthusiastic mountaineer.
Carrel and the Abbé would have set out by themselves had not J. B. Bich
and J.-A. Meynet (two men in the employ of Favre 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 Breil at 6.30 A.M. on July 16, at 1 P.M. arrived at
the third tent-platform, and there passed the night. At daybreak on the
17th they continued the ascent by the route which had been taken before;
passed successively the Great Tower, the “crête du coq,” the “cravate,”
and the “shoulder,”(262) 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.(263)
They had then about 800 feet to accomplish, and, says the Abbé, “nous
allions entrer en pays inconnu, aucun n’étant jamais allé 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;(264) so much so that they preferred
to turn up directly towards the summit, and climb by rocks that the Abbé
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 that, by descending a gully with
perpendicular sides, they could reach the ridge at a lower point. The bold
Abbé was the heaviest and the strongest of the four, and he was sacrificed
for the success of the expedition. 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 route, they galloped,”(265) and in a
few minutes reached the southern end of the summit-ridge.
The time of their arrival does not appear to have been noticed. It was
late in the day, I believe about 3 P.M. Carrel and his comrade only waited
long enough to plant a flag by the side of the cairn that we had built
three 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 entire length, and so
avoided the very difficult 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. 289.
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, however, hear of the Matterhorn catastrophe until their return to
Breil, 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 that the Breil 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 13-14th of July
precipitate, and so forth. Considering the circumstances which caused us
to leave the Val Tournanche on the 12th of July, these remarks 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 comparison 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 Zermatt 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 for a moment be
compared as cragsmen with Jean-Antoine Carrel. The four Italians who
started from Breil on the 16th of July were absent during 56½ hours, and
as far as I can gather from the published account, and from conversation
with the men, excluding halts, they took for the ascent and descent 23¾
hours. The hotel at Breil is 6890 feet above the sea, so they had to
ascend 7890 feet. As far as the end of the “shoulder” the way was 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_ time 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.(266) I know the greater part of
the ground over which they passed, and from my knowledge, 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 confidently 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 magnificent character.
Whilst this work was being carried out, my 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 Carrel. Mr. Grove found, however, that Carrel distinctly
preferred the southern side, and they ascended accordingly by the Breil
route. Mr. Grove has been good enough to supply the following account of
his expedition. He carries on my description of the southern route from
the highest point I attained on that side (a little below the “cravate”)
to the summit, and thus renders complete my descriptions of the two sides.
“In August 1867 I ascended the Matterhorn from Breil, taking as
guides three mountaineers of the Val Tournanche—J. A. Carrel, J.
Bich, and S. Meynet,—Carrel being the leader. At that time the
Matterhorn had not been scaled since the famous expedition of the
Italian guides mentioned above.
“Our route was identical with that which they followed in their
descent when, as will be seen, they struck out on one part of the
mountain a different line from that which they had taken in
ascending. After gaining the Col du Lion, we climbed the
south-western or Breil _arête_ by the route which has been
described in these pages, passing the night at the then unfinished
hut constructed by the Italian Alpine Club on the ‘cravate.’
Starting from the hut at daylight, we reached at an early hour the
summit of the ‘shoulder,’ and then traversed its _arête_ to the
final peak of the Matterhorn. The passage of this _arête_ was
perhaps the most enjoyable part of the whole expedition. The
ridge, worn by slow irregular decay into monstrous and rugged
battlements, 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 care is of course necessary,
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 scenery,
of grandeur perhaps unparalleled in the Alps, can both be
appreciated.
“It was near the end of this _arête_, close to the place where it
abuts against the final peak, that Professor Tyndall’s party
turned in 1862,(267) arrested by a cleft 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 _arête_, 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 _arête_ of the shoulder to the main peak, passed the
cleft which has been mentioned (p. 90), clambered on to the
tremendous north-western face of the mountain (described by Mr.
Whymper at pp. 277 and 282), and then endeavoured to cross this
face so as to get on to the Z’Mutt _arête_.(268) The passage of
this slope proved a work of great difficulty and danger. I saw it
from very 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 had got about half-way
across, they found the difficulties 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. They were 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 face of the mountain a little distance
below the summit. Traversing this ledge, the Italians found
themselves close to the Z’Mutt _arête_, but still separated from
it by a barrier, to outflank which it was necessary to descend a
perpendicular gully. Carrel and Bich were lowered down this, 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 _arête_ without further difficulty,
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 _arête_ 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.
[Illustration: THE HUT (CABANE) ON THE ZERMATT SIDE OF THE MATTERHORN.
FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY THE AUTHOR.]
“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 to retire defeated; and it
was reserved for the better mountain-craft of the Valtournanche
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 whether 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, Cæsar Carrel (my old guide), J.-B. Carrel, and a daughter of
the last named! They left Breil 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 the
“shoulder” to the final peak; passed the cleft which had stopped Bennen,
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
on July 14, 1865. They (young woman and all) were then about 350 feet from
the summit! Then, instead of turning to the left, as Carrel and Mr. Grove
had done, Joseph and J.-Pierre Maquignaz paid attention to the cliff in
front 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 Breil.(269) Subsequently, a rope was fixed over the most difficult
portions of the final climb.
In the meantime they had 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). This was done at the expense of Monsieur Seiler and of
the Swiss Alpine Club. Mons. Seiler placed the execution of the work under
the direction of the Knubels, of the village of St. Nicholas, in the
Zermatt valley; and Peter Knubel, along with Joseph Marie Lochmatter of
the same village, had the honour of making the second ascent of the
mountain upon the northern side with Mr. Elliott. This took place on July
24-25, 1868. Since then very numerous ascents have been made both on the
Swiss and upon the Italian side. The list of ascents will, however, show
that far more have been made by the Zermatt or northern route than by the
Breil or southern route.
[Illustration: THE CHAPEL AT THE SCHWARZSEE.]
Mr. Elliott supposed that he avoided the place where the accident
occurred, and that he improved the northern route. This, however, is not
the case. Both he and the others who have succeeded him have followed in
all essential points the route which we took upon July 13-15, 1865, with
the exception of the deviations which I will point out. Upon leaving
Zermatt, the traveller commences by crossing a bridge which is commonly
termed the Matterhorn bridge, and proceeds to the chapel at the
Schwarzsee. Thence he mounts the Hörnli, and follows its ridge along its
entire length right up to the foot of the Matterhorn. There is now a good
path along the whole of this ridge, but when we traversed it for the First
Ascent there was not even so much as a faintly marked track. The first
steps which are taken upon the mountain itself follow the exact line over
which I myself led upon the first ascent, and the track presently passes
over the precise spot upon which our tent was placed in 1865. In 1874, and
again in 1876, I saw the initials which I marked on the rock by the side
of our tent. The route now taken passes this rock, and then goes round the
corner of the buttress to which I referred upon p. 276. At this point the
route now followed deviates somewhat from the line of our ascent, and goes
more directly up to the part of the north-east ridge upon which the
_Cabane_ is placed. We bore more away on to the face of the mountain, and
proceeded more directly towards the summit. At the upper part of the
ascent of the north-east ridge the route now taken is exactly that of the
first ascent until the foot of the final peak is reached; and there,
instead of bearing away to the right, as we did, the tourist now clambers
up directly towards the summit by means of the fixed ropes and chains. The
final portion of the ascent, over the snow at the summit, again follows
our route.
[Illustration: THE SUMMIT OF THE MATTERHORN IN 1874 (NORTHERN END).]
So far as the _Cabane_ there is now a strongly marked track, almost a
path, over the mountain; and little piles of stones, placed in prominent
situations, point out the way even to the dullest person. What the
_Cabane_ itself is like will be seen by reference to the illustration
which faces p. 309. It is placed in a very insecure position, and will
probably one of these days disappear by disintegration. It is not easy at
this part of the mountain to find a good situation for a hut, though there
is plenty of choice both higher up and lower down.
Amongst the ascents that have been made which are most worthy of note,
that made by Signor Giordano may be mentioned first. This gentleman came
to Breil several times after his famous visit in 1865, with the intention
of making the ascent, but he was always baffled by the weather. In July
1866 he got as high as the “cravate” (with J. A. Carrel and other men) and
_was detained there five days and nights, unable to move either up or
down_. At last, upon Sept. 3-5, 1868, he was able to gratify his desires,
and accomplished the feat of ascending the mountain on one side and
descending it upon the other. Signor Giordano is, I believe, the only
geologist who has ascended the mountain. He spent a considerable time in
the examination of its structure, and became benighted on its eastern face
in consequence. I am indebted to him for the valuable note and the
accompanying section which follow the Table of Ascents. Signor Giordano
carried a mercurial barometer throughout the entire distance, and read it
frequently. His observations have enabled me to determine with confidence
and accuracy the heights which were attained upon the different attempts
to ascend the mountain, and the various points upon it which have been so
frequently mentioned throughout this volume.
Questions having been frequently put to me respecting the immediate summit
of the Matterhorn, and difficulties having been expressed as to the
recognition of the two views given upon pp. 279 and 281, I made an ascent
of the mountain in 1874 to photograph the summit, in order that I might
see what changes had occurred since our visit of ten years before. The
summits of all high mountains vary from time to time, and I was not
surprised to find that the Matterhorn was no exception to the general
rule. It was altogether sharper and narrower in 1874 than 1865. Instead of
being able “to run about,” every step had to be painfully cut with the
axe; and the immediate summit, instead of being a blunt and rounded
eminence, was a little piled-up cone of snow which went to a very sharp
point. Our photographic operations were conducted with difficulty, for a
furious north wind was blowing which would have whisked away the camera
immediately if it had been set up in the most convenient position for
taking a view; and we were compelled to cut a great gash in the snow and
to work down upon the edge of the cliff overlooking Breil before we could
escape from the gusts which were whirling away the snow in writhing
eddies. My guides J. A. Carrel, Bic, and Lochmatter formed a strong party,
and eventually we gained a position, protected from the wind, whence there
was a good view of the summit; but our ledge was so small that we could
not venture to unrope, and Carrel had to squat down whilst I photographed
over his head. The engraving upon p. 311 has been made from the photograph
so taken. It will interest some of my readers to know that the nearest
peak, seen below, is the summit of the Dent d’Hérens.
The light was not favourable for photographing the _Cabane_ when we
returned from the summit, and I stopped alone with Carrel in it for a
second night in order to get the morning light on the next day. Whilst
quietly reposing inside, I was startled to hear a rustling and crackling
sound, and jumped up, expecting that the building was about to take itself
off to lower quarters; and presently I perceived that the hut had a tenant
to whom I certainly did not expect to be introduced. A little, plump mouse
came creeping out over the floor, being apparently of opinion that there
ought not to be any one there at that time of day. It wandered about
picking up stray fragments of food, occasionally crunching a bit of
egg-shell, totally unaware of my presence, for I made out that the little
animal was both blind and deaf. It would have been easy to capture it, but
I would not do so, and left it there to keep company with other solitary
tourists.
The view from the _Cabane_ extends from the Bietschhorn on the north to
the Grand Tournalin in the south; and includes the Mischabel group, the
Allalleinhorn and Alphubel, Mont Rosa, etc. etc. Its situation is not high
enough to overlook those mountains, and so the prospect is very similar to
the northern and eastern half of the view from the Riffel. The uppermost
800 feet of the Matterhorn can be seen from the hut, but the rest of the
part above it is not visible, being hidden by a small ridge which projects
from the face. Whilst stopping in the _Cabane_ 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 year 1879 is a memorable one in the history of the Matterhorn, for in
it there occurred two deaths upon the mountain, and two new routes were
discovered. Sufficient information has not come to hand at the time I
write upon what is termed the “_affaire Brantschen_” to enable one to form
a correct opinion about that lamentable business, and it is enough to say
that upon August 12 a party started from Breil, composed of Dr. Lüscher,
Prof. Schiess, and the guides J. M. Lochmatter, Jos. Brantschen, and
Petryson of Evolena. They gained the hut on the “cravate” in due course,
and on the following day the party crossed the mountain to Zermatt, with
the exception of Brantschen, who was left behind in the hut, some say only
slightly ill, and others at the point of death. Which of these was the
case is only known by those concerned. They sent back assistance to their
comrade in a somewhat tardy fashion, and when the relief party gained the
hut Brantschen was found dead.
At the time that this was taking place on the southern side of the
Matterhorn, an accident occurred on the north-east face by which a life
was lost. Messrs. A. E. Craven and Dr. Moseley (of Boston), with the
guides Peter Rubi and C. Inabnit, left Zermatt at 10.30 P.M. on the night
of August 13, and ascended the mountain by the usual northern route
without stopping at the hut. They reached the summit at 9 A.M. on the
14th, and had returned to within a short distance of the hut, when Dr.
Moseley (who had found it irksome to be tied up, and had frequently wished
to go unroped) untied himself from the rest, doing so entirely upon his
own responsibility. A few minutes later, and within quite a short distance
of the hut, the party had to cross a projecting piece of rock. Rubi went
over first, and planted his axe in position to give firm footing to Dr.
Moseley, who followed. But, unhappily, he declined assistance; placed his
hand on 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 almost the whole of the north-east face. He fell about 2000 feet, and
was of course killed on the spot. His body was recovered three days later,
and was interred in the English burying-ground at Zermatt.
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 found. On September 2-3, Mr.
A. F. Mummery, with the guides ? and ? , succeeded in gaining the
summit by first going up the long buttress of snow which runs out from the
mountain to the Z’Mutt glacier, and then up the rocks above. I have been
unable to procure any details respecting this expedition and my only
information about it has been derived from Mr. Baumann, who followed in
Mr. Mummery’s traces three days later. Mr. Baumann says: “We followed the
long ice-slope to its extreme upper end, then the jagged arête above it
for a short distance, and then deviated a little to the right, climbing by
a secondary rocky ridge descending towards the Stockhi until within an
hour of the summit, when we struck the main Z’Mutt arête and so completed
the ascent by joining the Breil route.”
At the very time that Mr. Mummery was occupied in his expedition, Mr. W.
Penhall, with the guides F. Imseng and L. Sorbriehen, was engaged in a
similar enterprise, and also ascended the Matterhorn from the direction of
the Stockhi. He, however, at the first took a route closer to the
Tiefenmatten glacier, though he at last, like the others, eventually got
upon the main Z’Mutt arête and completed the ascent by following a portion
of the Breil route.
Neither Mr. Mummery, nor Messrs. Baumann and Penhall, descended by the
routes which they struck out, and in each case the respective parties
descended by the northern or Zermatt route. It is therefore at present
impossible to determine the relative difficulty of the various routes up
the mountain. Still, I think that the great majority of tourists will, as
heretofore, prefer the ordinary Zermatt route, and that comparatively few
will patronize the newly-discovered ones.
The ascent of the Matterhorn has now taken its place amongst those which
are considered fashionable, and many persons get upon it who ought not to
be upon a mountain at all. Although much has been done on both sides of it
to facilitate the routes, and although they are much easier to traverse
than they were in years gone by, it is still quite possible to get into
trouble upon them, and to come utterly to grief. Considering how large a
number of entirely incompetent persons venture upon the mountain, it is
surprising so few meet with accidents; but if the number of accidents
continues to increase at its present rate it will, ere long, not be easy
to find a place of interment in the English churchyard at Zermatt.
*E.* TABLE OF ATTEMPTS MADE TO ASCEND THE MATTERHORN PREVIOUS TO THE FIRST
ASCENT.
No. of Date. Names. Side upon Greatest REMARKS.
Attempt. which Height
the Attempt attained.
was
made, and
Place
arrived at.
1 1858-9. J.-Antoine Breil side 12,650 Several attempts
Carrel. “Chimney.” were made before
J.-Jacques this height was
Carrel attained; the men
Victor Carrel. concerned cannot
Gab. Maquignaz. remember how many.
Abbé Gorret. See p. 46.
1860.
2 July Alfred Zermatt 11,500? Without guides.
Parker. side P. 46-7.
Charles East face.
Parker.
Sandbach
Parker.
3 August V. Hawkins. Breil side 12,992 Guides—J. J.
J. Tyndall. Hawkins got 13,050? Bennen and
to foot of J.-Jacques
“Great Tower,” Carrel. Pp. 47-9.
Tyndall a few
feet higher.
1861.
4 July Messrs. Zermatt 11,700? No guides.
Parker side P. 49.
East face.
5 Aug. 29 J.-Antoine Breil side 13,230 See p. 57.
Carrel. “Crête du
J.-Jacques Coq.”
Carrel.
6 Aug. 29-30 Edward Breil side 12,650 Camped upon the
Whymper “Chimney.” mountain, with
an Oberland
guide. Pp. 51-7.
1862.
7 January T. S. Zermatt 11,000? Winter attempt.
Kennedy side Pp. 58-9.
East face.
8 July 7-8 R. J. S. Breil side 12,000 Guides—Johann zum
Macdonald. Arête below Taugwald and
Edward “Chimney.” Johann Kronig.
Whymper. Pp. 64-5.
9 July 9-10 R. J. S. Breil side 12,992 Guides—J.-A.
Macdonald. “Great Carrel and
Edward Tower.” Pession. P. 66.
Whymper.
” July 18-19 ” ” Breil side 13,400 Alone. Pp.
Somewhat 67-79.
higher than
the lowest part
of the “Cravate.”
10 July 23-24 ” ” Breil side 13,150 Guides—J.-A.
“Crête du Carrel, Cæsar
Coq.” Carrel, and Luc
Meynet. P. 80.
11 July 25-26 ” ” Breil side 13,460 With Luc Meynet.
Nearly as Pp. 81-2.
high as the
highest part
of the “Cravate.”
12 July 27-28 J. Tyndall Breil side 13,970 Guides—J. J.
“The Bennen and Anton
Shoulder,” Walter; porters—
to foot of J.-Antoine
final peak. Carrel, Cæsar
Carrel, and
another. Pp.
83-87, 90-92.
1863.
13 Aug. 10-11 Edward Breil side 13,280 Guides—J.-A.
Whymper “Crête du Carrel, Cæsar
Coq.” Carrel, Luc
Meynet, and two
porters. Pp.
114-123.
1865.
14 June 21. ” ” South-east 11,200? Guides—Michel
face Croz, Christian
Almer, Franz
Biener; porter—Luc
Meynet. Pp.
231-235.
*F.* ASCENTS OF THE MATTERHORN.
No. of Date. Names. Route taken. REMARKS.
Ascent
1865.
1 July 13-15 Lord Francis Douglas. Zermatt Guides—Michel
D. Hadow. (Or Northern Croz, Peter
Charles Hudson. route.) Taugwalder
Edward Whymper. _père_, Peter
Taugwalder
_fils_. See
pp. 271-290.
2 July 16-18 Jean-Antoine Carrel. Breil The first two
J. Baptiste Bich. (Or Southern named only
Amé Gorret. route.) ascended to the
J.-Augustin Meynet. summit. See
pp. 282, 304-6.
1867.
3 Aug. 13-15 F. Craufurd Grove Breil Guides—J. A.
Carrel, Salamon
Meynet, and
J. B. Bich.
4 Sept. 12-14 Jos. Maquignaz. Breil An easier route
J.-Pierre Maquignaz. was discovered
Victor Maquignaz. by this party
Cæsar Carrel. than that taken
J.-B. Carrel. upon July 17,
1865. The first
two named only
ascended to the
summit. See
p. 309.
5 Oct. 1-3 W. Leighton Jordan Breil Guides—the
Maquignaz’s just
named, Cæsar
Carrel, and F.
Ansermin. The
Maquignaz’s and
Mr. Jordan alone
reached the
summit.
1868.
6 July 24-25 J. M. Elliott Zermatt Guides—Jos. Marie
Lochmatter and
Peter Knubel.
7 July 26-28 J. Tyndall Up Breil Guides—Jos. and
side and Pierre Maquignaz,
down Zermatt and three others.
side.
8 Aug. 2-4 O. Hoiler. ” ? Account given in
F. Thioly. hotel-book at
Breil is not
very clear.
Guides seem to
have been Jos.
and Victor
Maquignaz and
Elie Pession.
9 Aug. 3-4 G. E. Foster Zermatt Guides—Hans
Baumann, Peter
Bernett, and
Peter Knubel.
10 Aug. 8 Paul Guessfeldt Zermatt Guides—Jos. Marie
Lochmatter,
Nich. Knubel, and
Peter Knubel.
11 Sept. 1-2 A. G. Girdlestone. Zermatt Guides—Jos. Marie
F. Craufurd Grove. Lochmatter and
W. E. U. Kelso. the two Knubels.
12 Sept. 2-3 G. B. Marke Zermatt Guides—Nich.
Knubel and Pierre
Zurbriggen
(Saas).
13 Sept. 3-5 F. Giordano Up Breil Guides—J. A.
side and Carrel and
down Zermatt Jos. Maquignaz.
side. See p. 310.
14 Sept. 8-9 Paul Sauzet Breil Guides—J. A.
Carrel and Jos.
Maquignaz.
1869.
15 July 20 James Eccles Breil Guides—J. A.
Carrel, Bich,
and two Payots
(Chamounix).
16 Aug. 26-27 R. B. Heathcote Breil Guides—The four
Maquignaz’s (Val
Tournanche).
1870.
17 July 20 (?) ? Zermatt No details have
come to hand.
1871.
18 July 16-17 E. R. Whitwell Zermatt Guides—Ulrich
and Ch. Lauener.
19 July 21-22 F. Gardiner. Zermatt Guides—Peter
F. Walker. Perrn, P. Knubel,
Lucy Walker. N. Knubel,
Melchior
Anderegg, and
Heinrich
Anderegg.
20 ? — Fowler Zermatt Guides—C. Knubel
and J. M.
Lochmatter.
21 Aug. 2-3 W. E. Utterson-Kelso Breil Guides—Victor
and Emmanuel
Maquignaz and
Joseph Gillioz.
22 Aug. 7-8 R. S. Lyle Breil Guides—J. J.
Maquignaz and ?
23 Aug. 18-19 C. E. Mathews. Breil Guides—J. A.
F. Morshead. Carrel and
Melchior
Anderegg, with
two porters.
24 Sept. 4-5 M. C. Brevoort. Zermatt to Breil Guides—Ch.
W. A. B. Coolidge. Almer, Ulr.
Almer, and N.
Knubel.
25 Sept. 7-8 R. Fowler Zermatt Guides—J. M.
Lochmatter
and P. Knubel.
1872.
26 July 22-23 F. Gardiner. Zermatt to Breil Guides—J.
T. Middlemore. Maquignaz,
Peter Knubel,
and Johann Jaun.
27 July 21 H. Bicknell ? Guides—Not known.
28 July 24-25 R. Pendlebury. Zermatt to Breil Guides—Peter
W. M. Pendlebury. Taugwalder
C. Taylor. _fils_, Gabriel
Spechtenhauser,
and F. Imseng.
29 July 26 J. Jackson Breil to Zermatt Guides—Jos.
Maquignaz and
Anton Ritz.
30 July ? F. A. Wallroth ? Guides—Not known.
31 Aug. 29-30 A. Rothschild Zermatt Guides—Franz
Biener and two
Knubels.
32 Sept. 1-2 G. A. Passingham Zermatt Guides—F. Imseng
and Franz
Andermatten.
33 Sept. 9-10 H. Denning. Zermatt Guides—Melchior
E. Hutchins. Schlapp, Peter
J. Young. Rubi, and two
Knubels.
34 Sept. 10-11 L. Saunderson Zermatt Guides—Peter
Bohren and
Peter Knubel.
35 Sept. 11-12 E. Millidge Zermatt Guide— —
Pollinger.
36 Sept. 11-12 D. J. Abercromby Zermatt Guides—N. Knubel
and P. J.
Knubel.
37 Sept. 16-17 C. Bronzet Zermatt Guides—P. Knubel,
F. Truffer, and
J. Truffer.
1873.
38 July 6-7 T. Cox. Zermatt Guides—Peter
J. Gardiner. Knubel and J. M.
Lochmatter.
39 July 6-7 C. Théraulaz Zermatt Guides—J.
Gillot and
Ignace Sarbach.
40 July 21-22 A. F. Leach Zermatt Guides—P.
Taugwalder
_fils_ and J.
M. Kronig.
41 July 21-22 T. A. Bishop Zermatt Guides—P.
Knubel, P. J.
Knubel, and F.
Devouassoud.
42 July 23-24 H. Salmond Breil Guides—Not known.
43 July 23-24 A. G. Puller. Breil to Zermatt Guides—J. A.
Carrel and Jos.
Maquignaz.
44 July 25-26 E. Leatham Zermatt Guides—P.
Knubel and
Joseph Imboden.
45 July 25-27 W. W. Simpson Breil to Zermatt Guides—J. A.
Carrel, P.
Maquignaz, and a
Chamounix guide.
46 July 29-30 M. Déchy Zermatt Guides—J. A.
Carrel and P.
Taugwalder
_fils_.
47 Aug. 3 J. Bischoff. Zermatt Guides—
E. Burckhardt.
48 Aug. 6-7 Emile Veyrin Zermatt Guides—P. J.
Knubel; porter,
Joh. Knubel.
49 Aug. 9-10 L. Ewbank Zermatt Guides—J. M. and
Alex. Lochmatter.
50 Aug. 11 G. E. Hulton. Zermatt Guides—Ch.
F. C. Hulton. Lauener, Johann
Fischer, and
Peter Rubi.
51 Aug. 11-12 Marquis Maglioni Zermatt Guides—P. Knubel,
Edouard Capelin;
porter H. Knubel.
52 Aug. 14-15 F. Dawkins Zermatt Guides—Franz
Andermatten, A.
Burgener; porter,
Abraham Imseng.
53 Aug. 15-16 J. F. Bramston. Zermatt Guides—Melchior
F. Morshead. Anderegg, B.
C. H. Hawkins. Nageli, and J.
M. Lochmatter.
54 Aug. 16 H. S. Hoare Zermatt Guides—Johann
von Bergen and
A. Pollinger.
55 Aug. 18-22 E. Pigeon. Breil to Zermatt Guides—J. A.
— Pigeon. Carrel, V.
Maquignaz, and 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.
56 Aug. 22-23 F. P. Barlow Zermatt Guides—Jakob
Anderegg and P.
Taugwalder
_fils_.
57 Oct 2-3 W. W. Stuart Breil to Zermatt Guides—Jos.
Maquignaz, F.
Bic, and Jos.
Balmat.
1874.
58 July 14-15 T. G. Bonney Zermatt Guides—J. M.
Lochmatter and
J. Petrus.
59 July 17-18 F. Wolf Zermatt Guides—A.
Pollinger and
Jos. Lauber.
60 July 18-19 A. Millot and wife Zermatt Guides—Melchior
Anderegg, A.
Maurer, and P.
Taugwalder
_fils_.
61 July ? H. Lamb ? Guides—Not known.
62 July 19-20 J. Baumann Zermatt Guide-Ulrich
Lauener.
63 July 23-24 ? E. Javelle Breil to Zermatt Guides—
64 July 27-29 L. K. Rankine Zermatt Guides—A.
Pollinger and
Jos. Längen.
65 Aug. 7 J. Birkbeck, Jun. Breil to Breil Guides—J. Petrus
and J. B. Bic.
Mr. Birkbeck and
his guides
started from
Breil, crossed
the mountain to
the northern
side, and
returned to
Breil, in 19
hours.
66 Aug. 7-8 G. F. Cobb. Zermatt Guides—P.
S. Forster. Taugwalder
A. M. Tod. _fils_, Jos.
Taugwalder, and
A. Summermatter.
67 Aug. 7-8 M. Bramston Zermatt Guide—B. Nageli.
68 Aug. 12 G. Dévin Zermatt Guides—L.
Pollinger and
Henri Séraphin.
69 Aug. 19-20 L. N. Walford Zermatt Guides—Alex.
Burgener and B.
Venetz.
70 Aug. 20-21 A. D. Puckle Zermatt Guides—J. Petrus
and N. Knubel.
71 Aug. 20-21 R. Lindt Zermatt Guides—Ig.
Sarbach and
Peter Sulzer.
72 Aug. 20-22 Edward Whymper Zermatt Guides—J. A.
Carrel, J. B.
Bic, and J. M.
Lochmatter. An
ascent made for
the sake of
photography.
Passed two
nights in the
Zermatt
_cabane_.
73 Aug. 22-23 W. E. Davidson Zermatt Guides—Laurent
Lanier and Ig.
Sarbach.
74 Aug. 23 Prof. G. B—— ? Guides—P.
Prof. K—— Maquignaz, E.
Pession, and
Chas. Gorret.
Account is
illegible.
75 Aug. 25 F. W. Headley. Zermatt Guides—A.
E. P. Arnold. Pollinger and
J. J. Truffer.
76 Aug. 25 H. J. Smith Zermatt Guides—Alex.
Lochmatter and
Jos. Längen.
77 Aug. 25 M. J. Boswell Zermatt Guides—Jos.
Imboden and
Jos. Sarbach.
78 Aug. 26 W. J. Lewis Zermatt Guides—Moritz
Julen and Jos.
Taugwalder.
79 Aug. 27 W. Stirling Zermatt Guides—Johann
Petrus and
Franz Burgener.
80 Aug. 28 J. H. Pratt. Zermatt Guides—J. A.
— Prothero. Carrel and P.
Knubel. Ascent
made in one day.
81 Aug. 31 H. N. Malan Zermatt Guides—Jean
Martin and A.
Lochmatter.
82 Sept. 1-2 W. A. Lewis Zermatt Guides—J. M.
Lochmatter and
P. Imboden.
83 Sept. 2 E. Dent. Zermatt Guide—A.
C. T. Dent. Burgener.
84 Sept. 2 J. W. Borel Zermatt Guides—A.
Pollinger and
J. J. Truffer.
85 Sept. 3 Ernst Calbenla Zermatt Guides—P. Bohren
and P. Müller.
86 Sept. 8 A. H. Simpson. Zermatt Guides—P. Knubel,
M. Cullinan. P. J. Knubel, and
P. Truffer.
87 Sept. 8 A. H. Burton Zermatt Guides—P.
Baumann, P.
Taugwalder, and
B. Nageli.
88 Sept. 9 E. Pigeon. Zermatt Guides—N. and
— Pigeon. J. Knubel, and
F. Sarbach.
89 Sept. 16-17 W. Nägeli Zermatt Guides—J. and
P. Knubel.
1875.
90 May 10 — Corona ? Guides—J. A.
Carrel and J.
J. Maquignaz.
Account is
perfectly
illegible.
91 Aug. 2-3 L. Brioschi Zermatt Guides—F. and
A. Imseng and
P. J.
Andermatten.
92 Aug. 10 J. W. Hartley Zermatt Guides—P. Rubi
and J. Moser.
93 Aug. 10-11 F. T. Wethered Zermatt Guides—Ch. Almer
and A. Pollinger.
94 Aug. 11 A. Fairbanks. Zermatt Guide—J. Perrn,
W. Fairbanks. and a porter.
95 Aug. 12 D. L. Pickman Zermatt Guides—J.
Taugwalder and
F. Biener.
Ascent made in
one day.
96 Aug. 16 D. Merritt Zermatt Guides—No
information.
97 Aug. 16 E. Hornby Zermatt Guides—A. and
F. Pollinger.
98 Aug. 16 J. J. Morgan. Zermatt Guides—J.
C. L. Morgan. Imboden and J.
Sarbach.
99 Aug. 16 A. W. Payne Zermatt Guide—J.
Taugwalder.
100 Aug. 17 J. H. Pratt. Breil to Zermatt Guides—J. A.
W. Leaf. Carrel and N.
Knubel.
101 Aug. 19-20 F. Tendron. Zermatt Guides—F. and
G. F. Vernon. P. Sarbach and
J. Taugwalder.
102 Aug. 23-24 H. R. Whitehouse Zermatt Guides—P. J.
Knubel and P.
T. Truffer.
103 Aug. 26-27 F. Morshead. Zermatt Guides—M.
A. O. Prickard. Anderegg, Ch.
H. S. Wilson. Lauener, and J.
Moser.
104 Sept. 7 H. G. Gotch Zermatt Guides—Ig. and
Jos. Sarbach.
105 Sept. 8 R. King Zermatt Guides—J. A.
Carrel and Jos.
Coulter, and
(porter) A.
Payot.
106 Sept. 8 H. Loschge Breil to Zermatt Guides—J. Petrus
and A. Ranier.
107 Sept. 9 P. Methuen Zermatt Guides—Johann
Jaun and A.
Maurer.
108 Sept. 14 — Butter Zermatt Guides—Jos.
Imboden and J.
Brantschen.
109 Sept. 15 W. Kittan Zermatt Guides—J. Petrus
and Franz
Burgener.
1876.
110 July 22-23 A. H. Cawood. Zermatt Without guides,
J. B. Colgrove. and with two
A. Cust. porters.
111 July 29 J. Hazel. Zermatt Guides—P.
W. F. Loverell. Maquignaz and
F. Zuber.
112 July 30 Eug. Dacqué Zermatt Guides—Borren
(Bohren?) and
Platter (?).
113 Aug. 3-4 F. Corbett. Zermatt Guides—F.
M. Courtenay. Burgener, P.
Taugwalder
_fils_, and J.
Taugwalder.
114 Aug. 3-4 P. A. Singer. Zermatt Guides—J.
P. A. Singer. Imboden, Jos.
Perrn, P.
Perrn, and F.
Perrn (porter).
115 Aug. 6-7 D. E. Cardinal Zermatt Guides—Pierre
Carrel and
Louis Carrel.
116 Aug. 7 F. Reiners. Zermatt Guides—P. and
M. Haushofer. J. Knubel.
117 Aug. 8-9 H. de Saussure Zermatt Guides—A.
Burgener and J.
Knubel.
118 Aug. 8-9 W. Cooke Zermatt Guides—Louis
Carrel and
Pierre Carrel.
119 Aug. 8-9 J. J. Bischoff Zermatt Guides—J. Petrus,
P. T. Truffer,
and another.
120 Aug. 9 Joseph Seiler Zermatt Guides— —
Lauber and ? An
one day ascent.
121 Aug. 9-10 W. J. Whelpdale. Zermatt Guides—J. M.
C. Weightmann. Lochmatter, A.
Ritz, and Jos.
Brantschen as
porter.
122 Aug. 10 P. Watson Zermatt Guides—Alex.
Burgener and B.
Venetz.
123 Aug. 12 S. Waller. Zermatt Guides—J. M.
G. Fitzgerald. Lochmatter and
J. Lauber.
124 Aug. 12 H. Meyer. Zermatt Guides—Jos.
C. Estertag. Brantschen, P.
J. Knubel, and
Jos. Taugwalder.
125 Aug. 12 J. Jackson. Zermatt Guides—Christian
T. H. Kitson. and Ulrich
Almer. Ascent
in one day.
126 Aug. 12 Jos. Nantermod Zermatt Guides—A.
Pollinger and B.
Andenmatten.
127 Aug. 14 C. E. Mathews. Zermatt Guides—M.
F. Morshead. Anderegg and ?
Ascent made in
one day.
128 (?) — Dent. Zermatt Guide—Alex.
Burgener.
129 Aug. 28-29 G. W. Prothero. Zermatt to Breil Guide—J. A.
Carrel.
1877.
130 Aug. 4 O. Boenaud. Zermatt Guides—No
G. Mermod. information.
L. Mermod.
131 Aug. 13-14 Q. Sella. Zermatt to Breil Guides—J. A.
L. Biraghi. Carrel, — Imseng,
J. B. Carrel,
Louis Carrel,
Jos. and
Vict. Maquignaz,
etc. etc.
132 Aug. 19 W. H. Grenfell. Breil Guides— — Imseng
J. H. A. Peebles. and ?
133 Aug. 20 W. Penhall Zermatt Guides—Jos.
Imboden and P.
Taugwalder
_fils_.
134 Aug. 24-25 G. Fitzgerald Zermatt Guides—J. M.
Lochmatter and
Joseph Lauber.
135 Aug. 29 J. A. Cooper Zermatt Guides—Alex and
Alois Burgener.
136 Aug. 30 J. D. Griffiths Zermatt Guides—Basile
Andenmatten and ?
137 Aug. 30 J. F. Yearsley Zermatt Guides—F.
Burgener, P.
Andenmatten, and
(porter) —
Blumenthal.
138 Aug. 30-31 J. C. Leman Zermatt Guides— —
Pollinger and ?
139 Aug. 30-31 T. de Cambray Digny Zermatt to Breil Guides—J. A.
Carrel and Henri
Séraphin.
140 Sept. 4 J. Freitschke Zermatt Guide—Basile
Andenmatten.
141 Sept. 4-5 H. Loschge Zermatt to Breil Guides—Alex.
Burgener and a
Tyrol guide.
142 Sept. 6-7 J. Nérot Breil to Zermatt Guides—J. A.
Carrel, a
Chamounix guide,
and a porter.
1878.
143 ? T. Jose Zermatt Guides—J. M.
Lochmatter, P.
Knubel, and
Pierre Truffer.
144 Sept. 7 Carl Hecke Zermatt Guide—Basile
Andenmatten.
145 Sept. 9 Jules Seiler Zermatt Guides—P. Knubel
and Basile
Andenmatten.
146 Sept. 21 Dr. Minnigerode Zermatt Guides—J. M.
Lochmatter and
J. Taugwalder.
147 Sept. 11-12 C. J. Thompson Zermatt Guides—J. A.
Carrel and —
Imseng.
1879.
148 Aug. 12-13 Dr. Lüscher. Up Breil side Guides—J. M.
Prof. Schiess. and down Zermatt Lochmatter, Jos.
side. Brantschen, and
Petryson
(Evolena).
Brantschen was
left behind in
the hut on the
“_cravate_,” and
died there.
149 Aug. 13 W. W. R. Powell Zermatt Guides—Peter
Taugwalder
_fils_ and A.
Imseng.
150 Aug. 13-14 C. E. Freeman Breil to Zermatt Guides—J. A.
Carrel
and—Sopersac
(Saas).
151 Aug. 13-14 A. E. Craven. Zermatt Guides—P. Rubi
W. O. Moseley. and C. Inabnit.
Dr. Moseley lost
his life in
descending the
mountain. See
Appendix *D*.
152 Aug. 28-29 C. E. B. Watson Zermatt to Breil Guides—P.
Anderegg and A.
Imboden.
153 Aug. G. H. Savage Zermatt Guides—Jos.
30-Sept. 1 Imboden and
Franz
Andermatten. Dr.
Savage slept on
the Hörnli Aug.
30; began the
ascent by
moonlight at a
little before 2
A.M. on Sept. 1,
reached the
summit at 6.30
A.M., and
returned to
Zermatt by 12.30
P.M.
154 Sept. 2-3 A. F. Mummery Z’Mutt side Mr. Mummery was
the first to
ascend the
Matterhorn from
the side of the
Z’Mutt Glacier.
No details have
been received.
155 Sept. 2-3 W. Penhall Z’Mutt side Guides—Ferdinand
Imseng and Louis
Sorbrichen. Mr.
Penhall also
made his ascent
upon the Z’Mutt
side, but took a
route more to
the south than
that followed by
Mr. Mummery.
156 Sept. 4-5 B. Wainewright Zermatt to Breil Guides—Jos.
Imboden and
Peter Sarbach.
157 Sept. 4-5 H. Hoare Zermatt Guide—J.
Anderegg and
(porter) Jos.
Chanton.
158 Sept. 5-6 J. Baumann Z’Mutt side Guides—Petrus
(Stalden) and
Emile Rey. Mr.
Mummery’s route
was followed.