information.
The above table is known to be imperfect, and the Author will be obliged
if correspondents will enable him to correct and extend it. Communications
should be addressed to him _Care of the Publisher_.
*G.* COURTE NOTE SUR LA GÉOLOGIE DU MATTERHORN. PAR SIGNOR F. GIORDANO,
Ingénieur en Chef des Mines d’Italie, etc. etc.
Le Matterhorn ou Mont Cervin est formé depuis la base jusqu’au sommet de
roches stratifiées en bancs assez réguliers, qui sont tous légèrement
rélevés vers l’Est, savoir vers le Mont Rose. Ces roches quoiqu’évidemment
d’origine sédimentaire ont une structure fortement cristalline qui doit
être l’effet d’une puissante action de métamorphisme très développée dans
cette région des Alpes. Dans la série des roches constituantes du Mont
Cervin l’on peut faire une distinction assez marquée, savoir celles
formant la base inférieure de la montagne, et celles formant le pic
proprement dit.
Les roches de la base qu’on voit dans le Val Tournanche, dans le vallon de
Z’Mutt, au col de Théodule et ailleurs, sont en général des schistes
talqueux, serpentineux, chloriteux, et amphiboliques, alternant fort
souvent avec des schistes calcaires à noyaux quartzeux. Ces schistes
calcaires de couleur brunâtre alternent ça et là avec des dolomies, des
cargueules, et des quartzites tégulaires. Cette formation
calcaréo-serpentineuse est très étendue dans les environs. Le pic au
contraire est tout formé d’un gneiss talqueux, souvent à gros éléments,
alternant parfois à quelques bancs de schistes talqueux et quartzeux, mais
sans bancs calcaires. Vers le pied ouest du pic, le gneiss est remplacé
par de l’euphotide granitoïde massive, qui semble y former une grosse
lentille se fondant de tous côtés dans le gneiss même. Du reste, les
roches du Cervin montrent partout des exemples fort instructifs de
passages graduels d’une structure à l’autre, résultant du métamorphisme
plus ou moins avancé.
Le pic actuel n’est que le reste d’une puissante formation géologique
ancienne, triasique peut-être, dont les couches puissantes de plus de 3500
mètres enveloppaient tout autour comme un immense manteau le grand massif
granitoïde et feldspathique du Mont Rose. Aussi son étude détaillée, qui
par exception est rendue fort facile par la profondeur des vallons d’où il
surgit, donne la clef de la structure géologique de beaucoup d’autres
montagnes des environs. On y voit partout le phénomène assez curieux d’une
puissante formation talqueuse très cristalline, presque granitoïde,
régulièrement superposée à une formation schisteuse et calcarifère. Cette
même constitution géologique est en partie la cause de la forme aiguë et
de l’isolement du pic qui en font la merveille des voyageurs. En effet,
tandis que les roches feuilletées de la base, étant facilement corrodées
par l’action des météores et de l’eau, ont été facilement creusées en
vallées larges et profondes, la roche supérieure qui constitue la pyramide
donne lieu par sa dureté à des fendillements formant des parois escarpées
qui conservent au pic ce profil élancé, et caractéristique alpin. Les
glaciers qui entourent son pied de tous les côtés, en emportant d’une
manière continue les débris tombant de ses flancs, contribuent pour leur
part à maintenir cet isolement de la merveilleuse pyramide qui sans eux
serait peut-être déjà ensevelie sous ses propres ruines.
REFERENCES TO THE GEOLOGICAL SECTION OF THE MATTERHORN.
I. Gneiss talqueux quartzifère. Beaucoup de traces de foudres.
II. Banc de 3 à 4 mètres de schistes serpentineux et talqueux verts.
III. Gneiss talqueux à éléments plus ou moins schisteux, avec quelque lit
de quartzite.
” Gneiss et micaschistes ferrugineux à éléments très fins, beaucoup de
traces de foudre.
IV. Gneiss alternant avec des schistes talqueux et à des felsites en
zones blanches et grises.
V. Petite couche de schistes serpentineux, vert sombre.
VI. Gneiss et micaschiste avec zones quartzifères rubanées.
VII. Gneiss talqueux à éléments schisteux.
_VIII. Id._ _id._ verdâtre, porphyroïde à éléments moyens.
IX. Gneiss talqueux granitoïde à gros éléments et avec des cristaux de
feldspath.
X. Schistes grisâtres.
XI. Micaschistes ferrugineux.
XII. Gneiss talqueux vert sombre.
XIII. Gneiss et schistes quartzeux, couleur vert clair.
XIV. Euphotide massive (feldspath et diallage) à éléments cristallins
bien développés, traversée par des veines d’eurite blanchâtre. Cette
roche forme un banc ou plutôt une lentille de plus de 500 mètres de
puissance intercalée au gneiss talqueux.(270)
XV. Gneiss talqueux alternant avec des schistes talqueux et micacés.
XVI. Schistes compactes, couleur vert clair.
XVII. Calcaire cristallin micacé (calcschiste) avec veines et rognons de
quartz. Il alterne avec des schistes verts chloriteux et
serpentineux.
XVIII. Schistes verts chloriteux, serpentineux et talqueux, avec des
masses stéatiteuses.
XIX. Calcschistes (comme ci-dessus) formant un banc de plus de 100
mètres.(271)
XX. Schistes verts chloriteux.
XXI. Calcschistes (comme ci-dessus).
XXII. Il suit ci-dessous une série fort puissante de schistes verts
serpentineux, chloriteux, talqueux et stéatiteux alternant encore
avec des calcschistes. En plusieurs localités les schistes
deviennent très amphiboliques à petits cristaux noirs. Cette
puissante formation calcaréo-serpentineuse repose inférieurement sur
des micaschistes et des gneiss anciens.
[Illustration: GEOLOGICAL SECTION OF THE MATTERHORN. (MONT CERVIN)
BY SIGNOR F. GIORDANO.]
*H.* PROFESSOR TYNDALL AND THE MATTERHORN.
In the second edition of Tyndall’s _Hours of Exercise in the Alps_ the
Professor made some additional remarks upon his defeat in 1862, and to
these remarks I replied in No. 35 of the _Alpine Journal_. I do not feel
that the additional information afforded in these publications possesses
the least interest to the majority of my readers, and therefore I do not
reprint it; and I refer to it only for the sake of those who may be
desirous to pursue the subject.
[Illustration: “The things which tumble about the ears of unwary
travellers”]
LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING
CROSS.
THE MATTERHORN AND ITS GLACIERS
[Map: The Matterhorn and its glaciers]
THE VALLEY OF ZERMATT
[Map: The Valley of Zermatt; and the Central Pennine Alps]
FOOTNOTES
1 In the lower diagram the tins are shown as they appear when packed
for travelling. I generally carry them at the top of a knapsack,
outside.
2 I extract from No. 63 of the _Alpine Journal_ the following note by
Gustav de Veh, a retired Russian officer, upon the prevention of
snow-blindness. “We were on the march home along the mountain
plains, when, dazzled by the intense sun-rays reflected by the
endless snow-fields we were marching along, my eyelids lost all
power to open; I felt my elbow touched, and, looking through my
fingers, I beheld one of our friendly highlanders preparing a kind
of black paste by mixing gunpowder with snow. The General told me to
let him do what he wanted. The Circassian applied the black stuff
under my eyes, on my cheeks, and to the sides of my nose. To my
astonishment I could then open my eyes, and felt no more difficulty
to see plainly and clearly everything. I have tried that experiment
many times since, and it never failed to relieve me, although I used
common Indian-ink and black water-colour, instead of the
above-mentioned paste.”
3 I understand that scarcely any nails wore found in the boots of Dr.
Moseley, who lost his life recently on the Matterhorn, and this fact
sufficiently accounts for the accident.
4 The author of _Travels in Alaska_.
5 The Riffel hotel (the starting-point for the ascent of Monte Rosa),
a deservedly popular inn, leased to Monsieur Seiler, the hotel
proprietor of Zermatt, is placed at a height of 3100 feet above that
village (8400 above the sea), and commands a superb panoramic view.
The house has continually grown, and it can now accommodate a large
number of persons. In 1879, it was connected by telegraph with the
rest of Switzerland.
6 The highest of the Mischabelhörner.
7 The temperature at the St. Bernard in the winter is frequently 40°
Fahr. below freezing-point. January is their coldest month. See
Dollfus-Ausset’s _Matériaux pour l’étude des Glaciers_, vols. vi.
and vii.
8 There was not a pass between Prerayen and Breil. See note to p. 105.
9 This pass is called usually the Va Cornère. It is also known as the
Gra Cornère; which is, I believe, patois for Grand Cornier. It is
mentioned in the first volume of the second series of _Peaks,
Passes, and Glaciers_, and in Chapters V. and XVIII. of this volume.
10 I had been sent to the Val Louise to illustrate this ascent.
11 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
_Itinéraire du Dauphiné_.
12 See the Map in Chap. VIII.
13 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 greatest portion
of the year, but in some places—at Villard d’Arène and at Andrieux
for example—it is not seen at all for one hundred days.—Lodoucette’s
_Hautes-Alpes_, p. 599.
14 Sometimes called the Aiguille du Midi de la Grave, or the Aiguille
de la Medje.
15 The maps of the Dauphiné Alps to Ball’s _Guide to the Western Alps_,
and to Joanne’s _Itinéraire du Dauphiné_, must be excepted. These
maps are, however, on too small a scale for travelling purposes.
16 “Faits pour servir à l’Histoire des Montagnes de l’Oisans,” by Elie
de Beaumont, in the _Annales des Mines_.
_Norway and its Glaciers; followed by Excursions in the High Alps of
Dauphiné._ By J. D. Forbes.
The following works also treat more or less of the districts
referred to in this chapter:—
_ Outline Sketches in the High Alps of Dauphiné_, by T. G.
Bonney.
_ Histoire des Hautes-Alpes_, by J. C. F. Ladoucette.
_ Itinéraire du Dauphiné_, by Adolphe Joanne (2nd part).
_ Tour du Monde, 1860_, edited by Ed. Charton.
_ The Israel of the Alps_, by Alexis Muston.
_ A Memoir of Felix Neff_, by W. S. Gilly.
Good pictures of Dauphiné scenery are to be found in _Voyages
Pittoresques dans l’ancienne France_, by Ch. Nodier, J. Taylor, and
A. de Cailleux, and in Lord Monson’s _Views in the Departments of
the Isère and the High Alps_.
17 M. Puiseux took for guide a man named Pierre Bornéoud, of Claux in
the Val Louise; who had accompanied Captain Durand in 1828. In 1861,
the expedition of M. Puiseux was quite forgotten in the Val Louise.
I am indebted to M. Puiseux for the above and other details.
18 This is a common saying in Dauphiné. It means that there is usually
less snow on the mountains during these days than at any other time
of the year. The natives have an almost childish dread of venturing
upon snow or glaciers, and hence the period of minimum snow seems to
them to be the most favourable time for excursions.
19 See Chapter VII.
20 Monte Viso is not seen from the Lautaret Road. That this is so is
seen when one crosses the Col du Galibier, on the south side of
which pass the Monte Viso is visible for a short time.
21 It became a regular business. “We find amongst the current accounts
of the Bailiff of Embrun this singular article—‘_Item, for
persecuting the Vaudois, eight sols and thirty deniers of
gold._’”—Muston, vol. i. p. 38.
22 On the 22d of May 1393, eighty persons of the valleys of
Freissinières and Argentière, and one hundred and fifty persons of
the Val Louise, were burnt at Embrun.—Muston, vol. i. p. 41.
23 See Morland’s _History of the Evangelical Churches of Piedmont_,
1658; Cromwell’s _Acts_, 1658; and Burton’s _Diary_, 1828.
24 The commune of the Val Louise contains at the present time about
3400 inhabitants. This crétin population has been aptly described by
M. Elisée Reclus in the _Tour du Monde_, 1860. He says:—“They attain
the highest possible development of their intelligence in their
infancy, and—abundantly provided with majestic goîtres, which are
lengthened and swollen by age—are in this respect like to the
ourangoutangs, who have nothing more to acquire after the age of
three years. At the age of five years the little crétins have
already the placid and mature expression which they ought to keep
all their lives.... They wear trousers, and coats with tails, and a
large black hat.”
25 “The nucleus of the ‘massif’ is a line protogine, divided by nearly
vertical cracks.”—_Dollfus-Ausset._
26 J. G. Whittier, “Snow-Bound.”
27 M. Puiseux, on his expedition of 1848, was surprised, when at
breakfast on the side of the mountain, by a mass of rock of more
than a cubic yard falling like a bomb at his side, which threw up
splinters in all directions.
28 This mountain is the culminating point 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. On the other side—that is, from the direction of La
Bessée or the Val Louise—the reverse is the case: the Pelvoux
completely conceals it.
Unaware that this name was going to be applied to it, we gave the
name Pic des Arcines or des Ecrins to our summit, in accordance with
the traditions of the natives.
29 There are three cols or passes close to Monte Viso on its northern
side, which lead from the valley of the Po into that of the Guil.
The deep notch spoken of above is the nearest to the mountain, and
although it is by far the lowest gap in that part of the chain, and
would seem to be the true Col Viso, it does not appear to be used as
a pass. The second, which I crossed in 1860, has the name Col del
Color del Porco given to it upon the Sardinian map! The third is the
Col de la Traversette; and this, although higher than at least one
of those mentioned above, is that which is used by the natives who
pass from one valley to the other.
30 See Ladoucette’s _Hautes-Alpes_, p. 596.
31 Frequently spelt Breuil.
32 See the Map of the Matterhorn and its Glaciers.
33 There were no guides, properly speaking, in this valley at that
time, with the exception of one or two Pessions and Pelissiers.
34 This face is that on the right hand of the large engraving opposite
p. 46. It is also represented, more prominently, in the engraving
facing p. 227.
35 Mr. Hawkins was unaware that any attempts had been made before his
own, and spoke of it as the first.
_ 36 Macmillan_, 1861.
37 This ridge is seen on the left of the large engraving accompanying
this chapter; and if the reader consults this view, the explanatory
outlines, and the maps, he will be able to form a fair idea of the
points which were attained on this and on the subsequent attempts.
38 Since this time the small peak has received the name Tête du Lion.
The gap is now called the Col du Lion; the glacier at its base, the
Glacier du Lion; and the gully which connects the Col with the
glacier, the Couloir du Lion.
39 By the kindness of its owner, Mr. F. Tuckett.
40 See Appendix A.
41 A view of this place faces p. 76.
42 The guide Bennen must be excepted.
43 The engraving is made after a sketch taken from the rocks of the
Matterhorn just above the Col.
44 J. G. Whittier.
45 Mr. Hawkins referred to this place as one of excessive difficulty.
He, however, found it coated with ice; we found it free from ice.
46 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.
47 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.
_ 48 Alpine Journal_, 1863, p. 82.
49 See p. 49.
_ 50 Mountaineering in 1861_, pp. 86-7. Tyndall and Bennen were mistaken
in supposing that the mountain has two summits; it has only one.
They seem to have been deceived by the appearance of that part of
the south-west ridge which is called “the shoulder” (l’épaule), as
seen from Breil. Viewed from that place, its southern end has
certainly, through foreshortening, the semblance of a peak; but when
one regards it from the Col Théodule, or from any place in the same
direction, the delusion is at once apparent.
51 The late Principal Forbes was similarly situated while crossing the
same pass in 1842. He described the sounds as rustling, fizzing, and
hissing. See his _Travels in the Alps of Savoy_, second ed., p. 323.
Mr. R. Spence Watson experienced the same upon the upper part of the
Aletsch glacier in July 1863, and he spoke of the sounds as singing
or hissing. See the _Athenæum_, Sept. 12, 1863. The respective
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 an uncomfortable but very
amusing manner,” and that “the veil on the wide-awake of one of the
party stood upright in the air!”
52 I have described this tent at length, as frequent application has
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 one made under his own eye, and to be particularly careful
to test the poles. My experience goes to show that poles which (when
supported upon their extremities) will bear a dead weight of 100
lbs. suspended from their centres, will stand any wind to which they
are likely to be submitted. Ash is, perhaps, the best wood that can
be selected. Tents of this pattern have been used, amongst others,
by Messrs. Freshfield, Moore, and Tucker, in the Caucasus; by the
Rev. W. H. Hawker in Corsica; and by myself in Greenland.
53 The heights given on the outlines of the Matterhorn accompanying
Chap. III., on the geological section in the Appendix, and quoted
throughout the book, are after the barometric (mercurial)
measurements of Signor F. Giordano in 1866 and 1868. I have ventured
to differ from him only in regard to the height of the second
tent-platform, and have assigned to it a somewhat lower elevation
than his estimate.
54 During this time making the ascent of Monte Rosa.
55 They were not guides by profession.
56 Those which I collected were as follow:—_Myosotis alpestris_, Gm.;
_Veronica alpina_, L.; _Linaria alpina_, M.; _Gentiana Bavarica_,
L.; _Thlaspi rotundifolium_, Gaud.; _Silene acaulis_, L. (?);
_Potentilla_ sp.; _Saxifraga_ sp.; _Saxifraga muscoides_, Wulf. I am
indebted for these names to Mr. William Carruthers of the British
Museum. These plants ranged from about 10,500 to a little below
13,000 feet, and are the highest which I have seen anywhere in the
Alps. Several times this number of species might be collected, I
have no doubt, within these limits. I was not endeavouring to make a
_flora_ of the Matterhorn, but to obtain those plants which attained
the greatest height. Very few lichens are seen on the higher parts
of this mountain; their rarity is due, doubtless, to the constant
disintegration of the rocks, and the consequent exposure of fresh
surfaces. _Silene acaulis_ was the highest plant found by De
Saussure on his travels in the Alps. He mentions (§ 2018) that he
found a tuft “near the place where 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 Packe, 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 showing the extreme limits attained by some of the
hardiest of Alpine plants. Those mentioned by Mr. Mathews
are—_Campanula renisia_ (on the Grivola, 12,047 feet); _Saxifraga
bryoides_ and _Androsace glacialis_ (on the summits of Mont Emilius,
11,677, and the Ruitor, 11,480); _Ranunculus glacialis_, _Armeria
alpina_, and _Pyrethrum alpinum_ (on Monte Viso, from 10,000 to
10,500 feet); _Thlaspi rotundifolium_ and _Saxifraga biflora_ (Monte
Viso, about 9500 feet); and _Campanula rotundifolia_ (?), _Artemisia
spicata_ (Wulf.), _Aronicum Doronicum_, and _Petrocallis Pyrenaica_
(Col de Seylières, 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),
_Papaver alpinum_ (var. _Pyrenaicum_), _Artemisia Nevadensis_ (used
for giving the flavour to the Manzanilla sherry), _Viola
Nevadensis_, _Galium Pyrenaicum_, _Trisetum glaciale_, _Festuca
Clementei_, _Saxifraga Grœnlandica_ (var. _Mista_), _Erigeron
alpinum_ (var. _glaciale_), and _Arenaria tetraquetra_. On the
Picacho de Veleta (11,440 feet), and on the Alcazaba (11,350), the
same plants were obtained, with the exception of the first named. At
a height of 11,150 feet on these mountains he also collected
_Ptilotrichum purpureum_, _Lepidium stylatum_, and _Biscutella
saxatilis_; and, at 10,000 feet, _Alyssum spicatum_ and _Sideritis
scordiodes_. Mr. Packe mentions the following plants as occurring at
9000 to 10,000 feet in the Pyrenees:—_Cerastium latifolium_, _Draba
Wahlenbergii_, _Hutchinsia alpina_, _Linaria alpina_, _Oxyria
reniformis_, _Ranunculus glacialis_, _Saxifraga nervosa_, _S.
oppositifolia_, _S. Grœnlandica_, _Statice Armeria_, _Veronica
alpina_.
Information on the botany of the Val Tournanche is contained in the
little pamphlet by the late Canon G. Carrel, entitled _La Vallée de
Valtornenche en 1867_; and a list of the plants which have hitherto
been collected on the glacier-surrounded ridge (Furgen Grat)
connecting the Matterhorn with the Col Théodule, will be found in
Dollfus-Ausset’s _Matériaux pour l’étude des Glaciers_, vol. viii.
part first, 1868. In the _Jahrbuch_ for 1873 of the Swiss Alpine
Club it is stated that on an ascent of the Finsteraarhorn (14,106
feet) the following were collected within the last 1000
feet:—_Saxifraga bryoides_, _S. Muscoides_, _Achillea atrata_, and
_Ranunculus glacialis_.
57 I have already had occasion to mention the rapid changes which occur
in the weather at considerable elevations in the Alps, and shall
have to do so again in subsequent chapters. No one can regret more
than myself the variable 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 tempests. Meteorological disturbances, some would say, 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 California, for example, which
includes numerous summits from 13,000 to 15,000 feet. Mr. Whitney,
of San Francisco, says (in his _Guide-book to the Yosemite Valley,
and the adjacent region_), “At high altitudes, all through the
mountains, the weather during the summer is almost always the finest
possible for travelling. There are occasional storms in the high
mountains; but, in ordinary seasons, these are quite rare, and one
of the greatest drawbacks to the pleasure of travelling in the Alps,
the uncertainty of the weather, is here almost entirely wanting.” It
is probable that 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 terrific storm is
raging above when there is a dead calm below, at a distance perhaps
of not more than three or four miles. A case of this kind is
described in Chapter VI., and another may be mentioned here. At the
very time that I was regarding the Dent Blanche from a height of
12,550 feet on the Matterhorn, Mr. T. S. Kennedy was engaged in
making the first ascent of the former mountain. He described his
ascent in a very picturesque paper in the _Alpine Journal_ (1863),
and I learn from it that he experienced severe weather. “The wind
roared over our ridge, making fearfully wild music among the
desolate crags.... It rendered an ordinary voice inaudible,” and
“nothing at a distance greater than fifty yards could 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 supposed from appearances that my friend was experiencing
a storm such as he has described.
58 See the engraving “Crags of the Matterhorn,” facing p. 120.
59 A remarkable streak of snow (marked “cravate” in the outline of the
Matterhorn, as seen from the Théodule) runs across the cliff at this
part of the mountain. My highest point was somewhat higher than the
lowest part of this snow, and was consequently about 13,400 feet
above the sea.
60 I received much attention from a kind English lady who was staying
in the inn.
61 As it seldom happens that one survives such a fall, it may be
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 chloroform, 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 head, 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 seems, that death by a fall from a great height is as painless an
end as can be experienced.
The battering was very rough, yet no bones were broken. The most
severe cuts were one of four inches long on the top of the head, and
another of three inches on the right temple: this latter bled
frightfully. There was a formidable-looking cut, of about the same
size as the last, on the palm of the left hand, and every limb was
grazed, or cut, more or less seriously. The tips of the ears were
taken off, and a sharp rock cut a circular bit out of the side of
the left boot, sock, and ankle, at 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 to a very common-place one; and although my recollections of
more distant occurrences remain unshaken, the events of that
particular day would be clean gone but for the few notes which were
written down before the accident.
62 An incident like this goes far to make one look favourably upon the
_règlements_ of Chamounix and other places. This could not have
occurred at Chamounix, nor here, if there had been a _bureau des
guides_.
63 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 turned back (which was almost as high as the
_highest_ part of the “cravate,” and perhaps 100 feet higher than my
scramble on the 19th) there were smooth walls seven or eight feet
high in every direction, which were impassable to a single man, and
which could only be surmounted by the assistance of ladders, or by
using one’s comrades as ladders.
64 See Appendix H.
65 Professor Tyndall describes this incident in the following
words:—“We had gathered up our traps, and bent to the work before
us, when suddenly an explosion occurred overhead. We looked aloft
and saw in mid-air a solid shot from the Matterhorn describing its
proper parabola, and finally splitting into fragments as it smote
one of the rocky towers in front. Down the shattered fragments came
like a kind of spray, slightly wide of us, but still near enough to
compel a sharp look-out. Two or three such explosions occurred, but
we chose the back fin of the mountain for our track, and from this
the falling stones were speedily deflected right or left.”—_Saturday
Review_, Aug. 8, 1863. Reprinted in _Macmillan’s Magazine_, April,
1869.
_ 66 Saturday Review_, August 8, 1863.
67 The pinnacle, in fact, had a name,—“L’ange Anbé.”
_ 68 Saturday Review_, 1863, and _Macmillan’s Magazine_, 1869.
69 I have entered into this matter because much surprise has been
expressed that Carrel was able to pass this 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 existence of this cleft, for it is seen over several
points of the compass, and particularly well from the southern side
of the Théodule pass. Still more difficult is it to explain how the
Professor came to consider that he was only a stone’s-throw from the
summit; for, when he got to the end of “the shoulder,” he must have
been perfectly aware that the whole height of the final peak was
still above him.
70 Dr. Tyndall ascended the Matterhorn in 1868. See Appendix *F*.
71 Information upon the Val Tournanche will be found in De Saussure’s
_Voyages dans les Alpes_, vol. iv. pp. 379-81, 406-9; in Canon
Carrel’s pamphlet, _La Vallée de Valtornenche en 1867_; and in
King’s _Italian Valleys of the Alps_, pp. 220-1.
72 I shall speak again of this mountain, and therefore pass it over for
the present.
73 See the Map of the Matterhorn and its Glaciers.
74 My attention was directed to this note by Mr. A. Adams-Reilly.
75 The summit of the Théodule 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 favourable, cows and sheep
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 Breil, over the Val Tournanche glacier to the summit of
the Théodule; 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.
I do not think mules could have been taken over the same spot in any
August during the past twenty years without great difficulty. In
that month the glacier is usually very bare of snow, and many
crevasses are open. They are easily enough avoided by those on foot,
but would prove very troublesome to mules.
A few days before we crossed the Breuiljoch in 1863, Mr. F. Morshead
made a parallel pass to it. 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 p.
235), 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.
76 Although the admirable situation of Zermatt has been known for, at
least, forty years, it is only within the last twenty or so that it
has become an approved Alpine centre. Thirty years ago the Théodule
pass, the Weissthor, and the Col d’Hérens, were, I believe, the only
routes ever taken from Zermatt across the Pennine Alps. At the
present time there are (inclusive of these passes and of the valley
road) no less than twenty-six different ways in which a tourist may
go from Zermatt. The summits of some of these cols are more than
14,000 feet above the level of the sea, and a good many of them
cannot be recommended, either for ease, or as offering the shortest
way from Zermatt to the valleys and villages to which they lead.
Zermatt itself is still only a village with 600 inhabitants (about
forty of whom are guides), with picturesque châlet dwellings, black
with age. The hotels, including the new inn on the Riffelberg,
mostly belong to M. Alexandre Seiler, to whom the village and valley
are very much indebted for their prosperity, and who is the best
person to consult for information, or in all cases of difficulty.
77 “Un des faits les mieux constatés est que l’érosion des glaciers se
distingue de celle des eaux en ce que la première produit des roches
convexes ou moutonnées, tandis que la seconde donne lieu à des
concavités.”—Prof. B. Studer, _Origine des Lacs Suisses_.
78 Professor Ruskin’s view of “the Cervin from the north-west” (_Modern
Painters_, vol. iv.) is taken from the Stockje. The Col du Lion is a
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
“_crête du coq_”; and the nearly horizontal portion of the ridge
above it is “the shoulder.”
79 On p. 7 it is stated that there was not a pass from Prerayen to
Breil in 1860, and this is correct. On July 8, 1868, my enterprising
guide, Jean-Antoine Carrel, started from Breil at 2 A.M. with a
well-known comrade—J. Baptiste Bich, of Val Tournanche—to endeavour
to make one. They went towards the glacier which descends from the
Dent d’Erin 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 “_rognon_”
(isolated patch of rocks) that is nearly in the centre of the
glacier. They passed above this, and between it and the great
_séracs_. Afterwards their route led them towards the Dent d’Erin,
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 Zardesan, arrived at Prerayen at 6.30
P.M.
As their route joins that taken by Messrs. Hall, Grove, and
Macdonald, on their ascent of the Dent d’Erin in 1863, it is evident
that that mountain can be ascended from Breil. 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’Erin
can be made from Breil in less time than from Prerayen. Breil is
very much to be preferred as a starting-point.
80 See p. 8. The height of this pass, according to the late Canon
Carrel, is 10,335 feet. A portrait of this enthusiastic and worthy
mountaineer is given upon p. 109.
81 A brief account of this excursion was published in the _Athenæum_,
August 29, 1863.
82 This incident occurred close to the place represented in the
engraving facing p. 78. 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. A 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 rope alone, but were also tied in
the usual manner. The second rope was employed as an additional
security against slips.
83 “There is, therefore, little hope of thus arriving at anything
decisive as to the exact part which echoes take in the production of
the rolling sound of thunder.” P. 165, English ed., translated by
Col. Sabine: Longmans, 1855.
84 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 the first explosion and the rolling sounds
and secondary explosions which I have _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 Chur, who was in the Solferino storm, between the Tschiertscher
and Urden Alp, in the electric clouds, says that the peals 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. 133.
85 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_.
86 See Appendix B for the experiences of Mr. R. B. Heathcote during a
thunderstorm on the Matterhorn in 1869.
87 Since then (on at least one occasion), several persons have found
themselves in this predicament for five or six consecutive days!
88 I am speaking exclusively of the disturbances which occur in the
day-time during fine weather.
89 The rocks are sometimes so hot that they are almost painful to
touch.
90 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.
91 Croz was born at the Village du Tour, in the valley of Chamounix, on
April 22, 1830; Almer was a year or two older.
92 The Pointe des Ecrins is also seen from the top of the Col de
Valloires, rising above the Col du Galibier. This is the lowest
elevation from which I have seen the actual summit of the Ecrins.
93 It should be observed that these mountains were included in the
territory recently ceded to France. The Sardinian map above referred
to was the old official map. The French survey alluded to afterwards
is the survey in continuation of the great French official map.
Sheet No. 179 includes the Aiguilles d’Arve.
94 Whilst stopping in the hospice on the Col de Lautaret, in 1869, I
was accosted by a middle-aged peasant, who asked if I would ride
(for a consideration) in his cart towards Briançon. He was
inquisitive as to my knowledge of his district, and at last asked,
“Have you been at La Sausse?” “Yes.” “Well, then, I tell you, _you
saw there some of the first people in the world_.” “Yes,” I said,
“they were primitive, certainly.” But he was serious, and went
on—“Yes, real brave people;” and, slapping his knee to give
emphasis, “_but that they are first-rate for minding the cows!_”
After this he became communicative. “You thought, probably,” said
he, “when I offered to take you down, that I was some poor ——, not
worth a _sou_; but 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.” “Passably rich. I have
another mountain on the Col du Galibier, and another at Villeneuve.”
He (although a common peasant in outward appearance) confessed to
being worth four thousand pounds.
95 We had seen a tracing from the unpublished sheets of the French
Government Survey.
96 The bracketed paragraphs in Chaps. VII. VIII. and IX. are extracted
from the Journal of Mr. A. W. Moore.
It would be uninteresting and 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 we were able to consult, and also by
the natives on the spot.
97 A great part of this morning’s route led over shales, which were
loose and troublesome, and were probably a continuation of the
well-known beds of the Col du Galibier and the Col de Lautaret.
98 The ridge called La Meije runs from E.S.E. to W.N.W., and is crowned
by numerous aiguilles of tolerably equal elevation. The two 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 our
opinion the western aiguille can hardly be more than 200 feet higher
than the eastern one. It is possible that its height may have
diminished since it was measured.
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 can
be ascended by following a long glacier which descends from it
towards the N.E. into the Valley of Arsine. The highest summit
presents considerable difficulties.
Sheet 189 of the French map is extremely inaccurate in the
neighbourhood of the Meije, and particularly so on its northern
side. The ridges and glaciers which are laid down upon it can
scarcely be identified on the spot.
99 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 passing from Grenoble to Briançon, and _vice versa_, were
lodged immediately underneath the salle-à-manger and bedrooms, and a
pungent, steamy odour rose from them through the cracks in the
floor, and constantly pervaded the whole house. I am told that the
inn has been considerably improved since 1864.
100 Our route from La Grave to La Bérarde will be seen on the
accompanying map.
101 Taking one kind of work with another, a thousand feet of height per
hour is about as much as is usually accomplished on great Alpine
ascents.
102 Fig. 2 represents in a similar manner the distance and elevation of
the Matterhorn from and above Zermatt. See p. 45.
103 The drawing was inadvertently made the right way on the wood, and
the view is now _reversed_ in consequence.
104 This wall may be described as an exaggerated Gemmi, as seen from
Leukerbad. From the highest summit of La Meije right down to the
Glacier des Etançons (a depth of about 3200 feet), the cliff is all
but perpendicular, and appears to be completely unassailable. It is
the most imposing thing of its kind that I have seen.
105 Since this chapter was first printed, the whole of the Aiguilles
d’Arve have been ascended, and also the highest point of the Meije.
For information upon these ascents the reader is referred to the
pages of the _Alpine Journal_.
_ 106 Alpine Journal_, December 1863.
107 There are more than twenty peaks exceeding 12,000 feet, and thirty
others exceeding 11,000 feet, within the district bounded by the
rivers Romanche, Drac, and Durance.
_ 108 Alpine Journal_, Dec. 1863.
_ 109 Alpine Journal_, June 1863.
110 The above view of the Ecrins was taken from the summit of the Col du
Galibier.
111 The most striking example which has come under my notice is referred
to in Chapter XIX.
112 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 200 feet more.
113 The Glacier Blanc is in the direction indicated by the arrow below
the letter *E* on the outline on p. 156.
114 The ascent of the Pointe des Ecrins has been made several times
since 1864. The second ascent was made by a French gentleman, named
Vincent, with the Chamounix guides Jean Carrier and Alexandre
Tournier. They followed our route, but reversed it; that is to say,
ascended by the western and descended by the eastern arête.
The best course to adopt in future attacks on the mountain, would be
to bring a ladder, or some other means of passing the bergschrund,
in its centre, immediately under the summit. One could then proceed
directly upwards, and so avoid the labour and difficulties which are
inevitable upon any ascent by way of the arêtes.
115 For route, see Map in Chap. VIII.
116 For route, see Map in Chap. VIII.
117 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 than it is. The highest
point (the Pic de Bonvoisin) is 11,500 feet. Potatoes, peas, and
other vegetables, are grown at Entraigues (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
Entraigues, and one can pass from the former by the little-known Col
de Loup (immediately to the south of the Pic de Bonvoisin) into the
Val Godemar. Two other passes, both of considerable height, lead
from the head of the Vallon de la Selle into the valleys of
Champoléon and Argentière.
118 This, like many other names given to mountains and glaciers on sheet
189, is not a local name, or, at least, is not one that is in common
use.
119 The height of the Col de Sellar (or de Celar) is 10,073 feet
(Forbes). I was told by peasants at Entraigues that sheep and goats
can be easily taken across it.
120 See map on p. 146. It is perhaps just possible, although improbable,
that these little glaciers were united together at the time that the
survey was made. Since then the glaciers of Dauphiné (as throughout
the Alps generally) have shrunk very considerably. A notable
diminution took place in their size in 1869, which was attributed by
the natives to the very heavy rains of that year.
121 This drawing was made to illustrate the remarks which follow. It
does not represent any particular couloir, though it would serve,
tolerably well, as a portrait of the one which we ascended when
crossing the Col de Pilatte.
122 The upper part of the southern side of the Col de Pilatte, and the
small glaciers spoken of on p. 168, can be seen from the high road
leading from Briançon to Mont Dauphin, between the 12th and 13th
kilomètre stones (from Briançon).
123 Since the above paragraphs were first printed, there has been some
improvement in Dauphiné in respect to the inns; and there is now at
La Ville de Val Louise a very decent little auberge called the Hôtel
Pelvoux, kept by M. Gauthier.
124 Under the title of _Massif du Mont Blanc, extrait des minutes de la
Carte de France, leré par M. Mieulet, Capitaine d’Etat Major_.
125 The heights (in mètres) are after Captain Mieulet.
126 Some of these heights have no business to figure in a list of the
principal peaks of the chain, being nothing more than teeth or
pinnacles in ridges, or portions of higher mountains. Such, for
example, are the Aiguilles du Géant, du Dru, and de Bionnassay.
127 Besides Mont Blanc itself.
128 Previous to this we made an attempt to ascend the Aiguille
d’Argentière, and were defeated by a violent wind when within a
hundred feet of the summit.
129 Great crevasses. A bergschrund is a schrund, and something more.
130 The passage of the Col de Triolet from the Couvercle to Prè du Bar
occupied 8½ hours of actual walking. If the pass had been taken in
the contrary direction it would have consumed a much longer time. It
gave a route shorter than any known at the time between Chamounix
and the St. Bernard. As a pass I cannot conscientiously recommend it
to any one (see Chap. XVII.), nor am I desirous to go again over the
moraine on the left bank of the Glacier de Triolet, or the rocks of
Mont Rouge.
131 The ascent of Mont Dolent and return to Prè du Bar (halts included)
occupied less than 11 hours.
132 The bracketed paragraphs in this chapter are extracted from the
notes of Mr. Reilly.
133 From a sketch by Mr. Adams-Reilly.
134 This glacier is named Glacier du Mont Blanc.
135 The Calotte is the name given to the dome of snow at the summit of
Mont Blanc.
136 Glacier du Dôme.
137 This is without a name.
138 I do not know the origin of the term _moraine_. De Saussure says
(vol. i. p. 380, § 536), “the peasants of Chamounix call these heaps
of débris _the moraine_ of the glacier.” It may be inferred from
this that the term was a local one, peculiar to Chamounix.
139 An example is referred to on p. 106. Much more remarkable cases
might be instanced.
140 It is not usual to find small moraines to large glaciers fed by many
branches draining many different basins. That is, if the branches
are draining basins which are separated by mountain ridges, or
which, at least, have islands of rock protruding through the ice.
The small moraines contributed by one affluent are balanced,
probably, by great ones brought by another feeder.
_ 141 Atlas of Physical Geography_, by Augustus Petermann and the Rev. T.
Milner. The italics are not in the original.
142 “The stones that are found upon the upper extremities of glaciers
are of the same nature as the mountains which rise above; but, as
the ice carries them down into the valleys, they arrive between
rocks of a totally different nature from their own.”—De Saussure, §
536.
143 One cannot do worse than follow that path.
144 The lower chalet de Lognan is 2½ hours’ walking from Chamounix. From
thence to the summit of the Aiguille d’Argentière, and down to the
village of the same name, occupied 12½ hours.
145 The Col de Zinal or Triftjoch, between the Trifthorn and the Ober
Gabelhorn; and the Col Durand between the last-mentioned mountain
and the Dent Blanche.
For our route from Zinal to Zermatt, see the Map of the Valley of
Zermatt.
146 High above the Glacier de Moming at the foot of the Crête de Milton.
147 Moore’s Journal.
148 Through what is technically called an “ice-fall.”
149 The responsibility, however, did not rest with Croz. His part was to
advise, but not to direct.
150 The summit of the pass has been marked on Dufour’s map 3793 mètres,
or 12,444 feet.
151 These snow-cornices are common on the crests of high mountain
ridges, and it is always prudent (just before arriving upon the
summit of a mountain or ridge) to _sound_ with the alpenstock, that
is to say, drive it in, to discover whether there is one or not. Men
have often narrowly escaped losing their lives from neglecting this
precaution. Several instances have been known of cornices having
given way without a moment’s notice, and of life only having been
saved through men being tied together.
These cornices are frequently rolled round in a volute, and
sometimes take most extravagant forms. See page 32.
152 This opportunity has been taken to introduce to the reader some of
the most expert amateur mountaineers of the time; and a few of the
guides who have been, or will be, mentioned in the course of the
book.
The late Peter Perrn is on the extreme right. Then come young Peter
Taugwalder (upon the bench); and J. J. Maquignaz (leaning against
the door-post). Franz Andermatten occupies the steps, and Ulrich
Lauener towers in the background.
153 See pp. 115 and 190.
154 See p. 141.
155 See pp. 169-171.
156 See pp. 236 and 266.
157 I engaged Croz for 1865 before I parted from him in 1864; but upon
writing to him in the month of April to fix the dates of his
engagement, I found that he had supposed he was free (in consequence
of not having heard from me earlier), and had engaged himself to a
Mr. B—— from the 27th of June. I endeavoured to hold him to his
promise, but he considered himself unable to withdraw from his later
obligation. His letters were honourable to him. The following
extract from the last one he wrote to me is given as an interesting
souvenir of a brave and upright man:—
[Illustration: Facsimile of a letter from Croz]
158 It was an entry describing an ascent of the Grand Cornier (which we
supposed had never been ascended) from the very direction which we
had just pronounced to be hopeless! It was especially startling,
because Franz Biener was spoken of in the account as having been
concerned in the ascent. On examining Biener it was found that he
had made the excursion, and had supposed at the time he was upon his
summit that it was the Grand Cornier. He saw afterwards that they
had only ascended one of the several points upon the ridge running
northwards from the Grand Cornier—I believe, the Pigne de l’Allée
(11,168 feet)!
159 For route, see the map of the Valley of Zermatt.
160 I wrote in the _Athenæum_, August 29, 1863, to the same effect.
“This action of the frost does not cease in winter, inasmuch as it
is impossible for the Matterhorn to be entirely covered by snow.
Less precipitous mountains may be entirely covered up during winter,
and if they do not then actually gain height, the wear and tear is,
at least, suspended.... We arrive, therefore, at the conclusion
that, although such snow-peaks as Mont Blanc _may_ in the course of
ages grow higher, the Matterhorn must decrease in height.” These
remarks have received confirmation.
The men who were left by M. Dollfus-Ausset in his observatory upon
the summit of the Col Théodule, during the winter of 1865, remarked
that the snow was partially melted upon the rocks in their vicinity
upon 19th, 20th, 21st, 22d, 23d, 26th, 27th December of that year,
and upon the 22d of December they entered in their Journal, “_Nous
avons vu au Matterhorn que la neige se fondait sur roches et qu’il
s’en écoulait de l’eau._”—_Matériaux pour l’étude des Glaciers_,
vol. viii. part i. p. 246, 1868; and vol. viii. part ii. p. 77,
1869.
161 In each of the seven nights I passed upon the south-west ridge of
the Matterhorn in 1861-3 (at heights varying from 11,844 to 12,992
feet above the level of the sea), the rocks fell incessantly in
showers and avalanches. See p. 120.
162 Tonson’s Ed. of 1758. Bacon may have had this passage in mind when
he wrote, “It must not be thought that heat generates motion, or
motion heat (though in some respects this be true), but that the
very essence of heat, or the substantial self of heat, is motion and
nothing else.”—_Novum Organum_, book ii. Devey’s Translation.
163 Doubtless, _at the sides_ of glacier beds, the range of temperature
is greater. But there is evidence that the winter cold does not
penetrate to the innermost recesses of glacier-beds in the fact that
streams continue to flow underneath the ice all the year round,
winter as well as summer, in the Alps and (I was informed in
Greenland) in Greenland. Experimental proof can be readily obtained
that even in midsummer the bottom temperature is close to 32° Faht.
164 Professor Tyndall “On the Conformation of the Alps,” _Phil. Mag._,
Sept. 1862.
165 This had been crossed, for the first time, a few months before.
166 The following details may interest mountain-climbers. Left Zinal
(5505 feet) 2.5 A.M. Thence to plateau S.E. of summit of Grand
Cornier, 5 h. 25 min. From the plateau to the summit of the
mountain, 2½ hours. The last 300 feet of the ridge followed were
exceedingly sharp and narrow, with a great cornice, from which huge
icicles depended. We were obliged to go _underneath_ the cornice,
and to cut a way through the icicles. Descent from summit to
plateau, 1 h. 40 min. Sharp snow-storm, with thunder. Plateau to
summit of Col du Grand Cornier (rocks easy), 45 min. From the summit
of the Col to the end of glacier leading to the west, 55 min. Thence
to Abricolla (7959), 15 min.
167 The brother of my guide Michel Croz.
168 See note to p. 70.
169 See map of the Valley of Zermatt.
170 Couloirs are invariably protected at their bases by bergschrunds. An
example of a couloir with a double bergschrund is given on p. 169.
171 The summit of the Dent Blanche is a ridge, perhaps one hundred yards
in length. The highest point is usually at its north-eastern end.
Several ascents besides those made by Mr. Kennedy and the author
have been made in late years; but, as yet, no one seems to have
discovered an easy route up the mountain.
172 The ascent of the Dent Blanche is the hardest that I have made.
There was nothing upon it so difficult as the last 500 feet of the
Pointe des Ecrins; but, on the other hand, there was hardly a step
upon it which was positively easy. The whole of the face required
actual climbing. There was, probably, very little difference in
difficulty between the route we took in 1865, and that followed by
Mr. Kennedy in 1862.
173 See Map of the Valley of Zermatt. The route taken upon June 19 is
alone marked.
174 See Chap. III. pp. 44-5.
175 Subsequent experiences of others have strengthened this opinion.
176 I prefer to be on the safe side. My impression is that snow cannot
accumulate in large masses _at_ 45°.
177 Upon this subject I beg to refer the reader to the valuable note
furnished by Signor F. Giordano in the Appendix.
178 See pp. 56 and 73.
179 Weathered granite is an admirable rock to climb; its gritty texture
giving excellent hold to the nails in one’s boots. But upon such
metamorphic schists as compose the mass of the great peak of the
Matterhorn, the texture of the rock itself is of little or no value.
180 I refer here only to that portion of the ridge which is between the
Col du Lion and the Great Tower. The remarks would not apply to the
rocks higher up (see p. 75); higher still the rocks are firm again;
yet higher (upon the “Shoulder”) they are much disintegrated; and
then, upon the final peak, they are again firm.
_ 181 Travels through the Alps_, 2nd ed. p. 317.
182 Its position is shown by the letter F, on the right of the outline,
on p. 85. See also Map of the Matterhorn and its Glaciers.
183 See p. 94.
184 See Frontispiece.
185 See note to p. 95.
186 The ascent of the Grandes Jorasses was made to obtain a view of the
upper part of the Aig. Verte, and upon that account the westernmost
summit was selected in preference to the highest one. Both summits
are shown upon the accompanying engraving. That on the right is (as
it appears to be) the highest. That upon its left is the one which
we ascended, and is about 100 feet lower than the other. A couple of
days after our ascent, Henri Grati, Julien Grange, Jos. Mar. Perrod,
Alexis Clusaz, and Daniel Gex (all of Courmayeur), followed our
traces to the summit in order to learn the way. As far as my
observation extends, such things are seldom done by money-grasping
or spiritless guides, and I have much pleasure in being able to
mention their names. The highest point (13,799) was ascended on June
29-30, 1868, by Mr. Horace Walker, with the guides Melchior
Anderegg, J. Jaun, and Julien Grange.
187 The view of Mont Blanc from a gorge on the south of the Italian Val
Ferret, mid-way between the villages of La Vachey and Praz Sec, and
about 3000 feet above them, is, in my opinion, the finest which can
be obtained of that mountain range anywhere upon the Italian side.
188 The next generation may witness its extinction. The portion of it
seen from the village of Argentière was in 1869 at least one quarter
less in width than it was ten years earlier.
189 This observation is not made without reason. I have seen the head of
one tumble off at a slight tap, in consequence of its handle having
been perforated by an ingenious but useless arrangement of nails.
190 I estimate its height at 1200 feet. The triangulation of Capt.
Mieulet places the summit of the pass 11,624 feet above the sea.
This, I think, is rather too high.
_ 191 Wanderings among the High Alps_, 1858.
192 Most of his principal exploits are recorded in the publications of
the Alpine Club.
193 Engraved, by permission, from a photograph by Mr. E. Edwards.
194 Admirably rendered in the accompanying drawing by Mr. Cyrus Johnson.
195 I heard lately of two well-known mountaineers who, under the
influence of sudden alarm, _swallowed their crystals_. I am happy to
say that they were able to cough them up again.
196 Hand specimens of the highest rocks of the Aiguille Verte cannot be
distinguished from granite. The rock is almost identical in quality
with that at the summit of Mont Dolent, and is probably a granitöid
gneiss.
197 The summit of the Aiguille Verte was a snowy dome, large enough for
a quadrille. I was surprised to see the great height of Les Droites.
Captain Mieulet places its summit at 13,222 feet, but I think it
must be very slightly lower than the Verte itself.
198 The Chamounix tariff price for the ascent of the Aiguille is now
placed at £4 _per guide_.
199 It should be said that we received the most polite apologies for
this affair from the chief of the gensdarmes, and an invitation to
lodge a complaint against the ring-leaders. We accepted his
apologies, and declined his invitation. Needless to add, Michel Croz
took no part in the demonstration.
200 Below the second ice-fall the glacier is completely covered up with
moraine matter, and if the _left_ bank is followed, one is compelled
either to traverse this howling waste or to lose much time upon the
tedious and somewhat difficult rocks of Mont Rouge.
201 In glissading an erect position should be maintained, and the point
of the alpenstock allowed to trail over the snow. If it is necessary
to stop, or to slacken speed, the point is pressed against the
slope, as shown in the illustration.
202 Comparison of the Col de Triolet with the Col de Talèfre will show
what a great difference in ease there may be between tracks which
are nearly identical. For a distance of several miles these routes
are scarcely more than half-a-mile apart. Nearly every step of the
former is difficult, whilst the latter has no difficulty whatever.
The route we adopted over the Col de Talèfre may perhaps be
improved. It may be possible to go directly from the head of the
Glacier de Triolet to its right bank, and, if so, at least thirty
minutes might be saved.
The following is a list of the principal of the passes across the
main ridge of the range of Mont Blanc, with the years in which the
first passages were effected, as far as I know them:—1. Col de
Trélatête (1864), between Aig. du Glacier and Aig. de Trélatête. 2.
Col de Miage, between Aig. de Miage and Aig. de Bionnassay. 3. Col
du Dôme (1865), over the Dôme du Goûter. 4. Col du Mont Blanc
(1868), over Mont Blanc. 5. Col de la Brenva (1865), between Mont
Blanc and Mont Maudit. 6. Col de la Tour Ronde (1867), over la Tour
Ronde. 7. Col du Géant, between la Tour Ronde and Aigs. Marbrées. 8.
Col des Grandes Jorasses (1873), between the Grandes and Petites
Jorasses. 9. Col de Leschaux (1877), between the Aig. de
l’Eboulement and the Aig. de Leschaux. 10. Col Pierre Joseph (1866),
over Aig. de l’Eboulement. 11. Col de Talèfre (1865), between Aigs.
Talèfre and Triolet. 12. Col de Triolet (1864), between Aigs.
Talèfre and Triolet. 13. Col Dolent (1865), between Aig. de Triolet
and Mont Dolent. 14. Col d’Argentière (1861), between Mont Dolent
and la Tour Noire. 15. Col de la Tour Noire (1863), between the Tour
Noire and the Aig. d’Argentière. 16. Col du Chardonnet (1863),
between Aigs. d’Argentière and Chardonnet. 17. Col du Tour, between
Aigs. du Chardonnet and Tour.
203 After crossing the glacier de Breney, we ascended by some débris,
and then by some cliffy ground, to the glacier which surrounds the
peak upon the south; bore to the left (that is to the west) and went
up the edge of the glacier; and lastly took to the arête of the
ridge which descends towards the south-west, and followed it to the
summit (12,727).
204 Manufactured and sold by Messrs. Buckingham, Broad Street,
Bloomsbury.
205 For example, when the leader suspects crevasses, and _sounds_ for
them, in the manner shown in the engraving, he usually loses half a
step or more. The second man should take a turn of the rope around
his hand to draw it back in case the leader goes through.
206 When several persons are descending such places, it is evident that
the _last man_ cannot derive any assistance from the rope, and so
might as well be untied. Partly upon this account, it is usual to
place one of the strongest and steadiest men last. Now, although
this cannot be termed a senseless precaution, it is obvious that it
is a perfectly useless one, if it is true that a single slip would
upset the entire party. The best plan I know is that which we
adopted on the descent of the Col Dolent, namely, to let one man go
in advance until he reaches some secure point. This one then
detaches himself, the rope is drawn up, and another man is sent down
to join him, and so on until the last. The last man still occupies
the most difficult post, and should be the steadiest man; but he is
not exposed to any risk from his comrades slipping, and they, of
course, draw in the rope as he descends, so that his position is
less hazardous than if he were to come down quite by himself.
207 If you are out upon an excursion, and find the work becoming so
arduous that you have great difficulty in maintaining your balance,
you should at once retire, and not imperil the lives of others. I am
well aware that the withdrawal of one person for such reasons would
usually necessitate the retreat of a second, and that expeditions
would be often cut short if this were to happen. With the fear of
this before their eyes, I believe that many amateurs continue to go
on, albeit well convinced that they ought not. They do not wish to
stop the sport of their comrades; but they frequently suffer mental
tortures in consequence, which most emphatically do not assist their
stability, and are likely to lead to something even more
disagreeable than the abandonment of the excursion. The moral is,
take an adequate number of guides.
208 During the preceding eighteen days (I exclude Sundays and other
non-working days) we ascended more than 100,000 feet, and descended
98,000 feet.
209 See p. 79.
210 Tourists usually congregate at Zermatt upon Sundays, and large gangs
and droves cross the Théodule pass on Mondays.
211 The Italian Minister. Signor Giordano had undertaken the business
arrangements for Signor Sella.
212 Peter Taugwalder, the father, is called _old_ Peter, to distinguish
him from his eldest son, _young_ Peter. In 1865 the father’s age was
about 45.
213 Brother of the present Marquis of Queensberry.
214 For route, and the others mentioned in the subsequent chapters, see
map of Matterhorn and its glaciers.
215 The two young Taugwalders were taken as porters, by desire of their
father, and carried provisions amply sufficient for three days, in
case the ascent should prove more troublesome than we anticipated.
216 I remember speaking about pedestrianism to a well-known mountaineer
some years ago, and venturing to remark that a man who averaged
thirty miles a-day might be considered a good walker. “A fair
walker,” he said, “a _fair_ walker.” “What then would you consider
_good_ walking?” “Well,” he replied, “I will tell you. Some time
back a friend and I agreed to go to Switzerland, but a short time
afterwards he wrote to say he ought to let me know that a young and
delicate lad was going with him who would not be equal to great
things, in fact, he would not be able to do more than fifty miles
a-day!” “What became of the young and delicate lad?” “He lives.”
“And who was your extraordinary friend?” “Charles Hudson.” I have
every reason to believe that the gentlemen referred to _were_ equal
to walking more than fifty miles a-day, but they were exceptional,
not _good_ pedestrians.
Charles Hudson, Vicar of Skillington in Lincolnshire, was considered
by the mountaineering fraternity to be the best amateur of his time.
He was the organiser and leader of the party of Englishmen who
ascended Mont Blanc by the Aig. du Goûter, and descended by the
Grands Mulets route, without guides, in 1855. His long practice made
him surefooted, and in that respect he was not greatly inferior to a
born mountaineer. I remember him as a well-made man of middle height
and age, neither stout nor thin, with face pleasant—though grave,
and with quiet unassuming manners. Although an athletic man, he
would have been overlooked in a crowd; and although he had done the
greatest mountaineering feats which have been done, he was the last
man to speak of his own doings. His friend Mr. Hadow was a young man
of nineteen, who had the looks and manners of a greater age. He was
a rapid walker, but 1865 was his first season in the Alps. Lord
Francis Douglas was about the same age as Mr. Hadow. He had had the
advantage of several seasons in the Alps. He was nimble as a deer,
and was becoming an expert mountaineer. Just before our meeting he
had ascended the Ober Gabelhorn (with old Peter Taugwalder and Jos.
Viennin), and this gave me a high opinion of his powers; for I had
examined that mountain all round, a few weeks before, and had
declined its ascent on account of its apparent difficulty.
My personal acquaintance with Mr. Hudson was very slight—still I
should have been content to have placed myself under his orders if
he had chosen to claim the position to which he was entitled. Those
who knew him will not be surprised to learn that, so far from doing
this, he lost no opportunity of consulting the wishes and opinions
of those around him. We deliberated together whenever there was
occasion, and our authority was recognised by the others. Whatever
responsibility there was devolved upon _us_. I recollect with
satisfaction that there was no difference of opinion between us as
to what should be done, and that the most perfect harmony existed
between all of us so long as we were together.
217 Arrived at the chapel 7.30 A.M.; left it, 8.20; halted to examine
route 9.30; started again 10.25, and arrived at 11.20 at the cairn
made by Mr. Kennedy in 1862 (see p. 59), marked 10,820 feet upon the
map. Stopped 10 min. here. From the Hörnli to this point we kept,
when possible, to the crest of the ridge. The greater part of the
way was excessively easy, though there were a few places where the
axe had to be used.
218 Thus far the guides did not once go to the front. Hudson or I led,
and when any cutting was required we did it ourselves. This was done
to spare the guides, and to show them that we were thoroughly in
earnest. The spot at which we camped was four hours’ walking from
Zermatt, and is marked upon the map—CAMP (1865). It was just upon a
level with the Furggengrat, and its position is indicated upon the
engraving facing p. 227 by a little circular white spot, in a line
with the word CAMP.
219 It was originally intended to leave both of the young men behind. We
found it difficult to divide the food, and so the new arrangement
was made.
220 See pp. 227-231.
221 For track, see the lower of the outlines facing p. 230.
222 See remarks on arêtes and faces on p. 206. There is very little to
choose between in the arêtes leading from the summit towards the
Hörnli (N.E. ridge) and towards the Col du Lion (S.W. ridge). Both
are jagged, serrated ridges, which any experienced climber would
willingly avoid if he could find another route. On the northern
(Zermatt) side the eastern face affords another route, or any number
of routes, since there is hardly a part of it which cannot be
traversed! On the southern (Breil) side the ridge alone, generally
speaking, can be followed; and when it becomes impracticable, and
the climber is forced to bear down to the right or to the left, the
work is of the most difficult character.
223 Very few stones fell during the two days I was on the mountain, and
none came near us. Others who have followed the same route have not
been so fortunate; they may not, perhaps, have taken the same
precautions. It is a noteworthy fact, that the lateral moraine of
the left bank of the Furggengletscher is scarcely larger than that
of the right bank, although the former receives all the débris that
falls from the 4000 feet of cliffs which form the eastern side of
the Matterhorn, whilst the latter is fed by perfectly insignificant
slopes. Neither of these moraines is large. This is strong evidence
that stones do _not_ fall to any great extent from the eastern face.
The inward dip of the beds retains the detritus in place. Hence the
eastern face appears, when one is upon it, to be undergoing more
rapid disintegration than the other sides: in reality, the mantle of
ruin spares the mountain from farther waste. Upon the southern side,
rocks fall as they are rent off; “each day’s work is cleared away”
every day; and hence the faces and ridges are left naked, and are
exposed to fresh attacks.
224 The snow seen in the engraving facing p. 227, half-an-inch below the
summit, and a little to its right.
225 This part was less steeply inclined than the whole of the eastern
face.
226 I have no memorandum of the time that it occupied. It must have
taken about an hour and a half.
227 The highest points are towards the two ends. In 1865 the northern
end was slightly higher than the southern one. In bygone years
Carrel and I often suggested to each other that we might one day
arrive upon the top, and find ourselves cut off from the very
highest point by a notch in the summit-ridge which is seen from the
Theodule and from Breil (marked *D* on the outline on p. 85). This
notch is very conspicuous from below, but when we were upon the
summit it was hardly noticed, and it could be passed without the
least difficulty.
228 I have learnt since from J.-A. Carrel that they heard our first
cries. They were then upon the south-west ridge, close to the
“Cravate,” and _twelve hundred and fifty_ feet below us; or, as the
crow flies, at a distance of about one-third of a mile.
229 At our departure the men were confident that the ascent would be
made, and took one of the poles out of the tent. I protested that it
was tempting Providence; they took the pole, nevertheless.
230 Signor Giordano was naturally disappointed at the result, and wished
the men to start again. _They all refused to do so, with the
exception of Jean-Antoine._ Upon the 16th of July he set out again
with three others, and upon the 17th gained the summit by passing
(at first) up the south-west ridge, and (afterwards) by turning over
to the Z’Mutt, or north-western side. On the 18th he returned to
Breil.
Whilst we were upon the southern end of the summit-ridge, we paid
some attention to the portion of the mountain which intervened
between ourselves and the Italian guides. It seemed as if there
would not be the least chance for them if they should attempt to
storm the final peak directly from the end of the “shoulder.” In
that direction cliffs fell sheer down from the summit, and we were
unable to see beyond a certain distance. There remained the route
about which Carrel and I had often talked, namely to ascend directly
at first from the end of the “shoulder,” and afterwards to swerve to
the left—that is, to the Z’Mutt side—and to complete the ascent from
the north-west. When we were upon the summit we laughed at this
idea. The part of the mountain that I have described upon p. 278,
was not easy, although its inclination was moderate. If that slope
were made only ten degrees steeper, its difficulty would be
enormously increased. To double its inclination would be to make it
impracticable. The slope at the southern end of the summit-ridge,
falling towards the north-west, was _much_ steeper than that over
which we passed, and we ridiculed the idea that any person should
attempt to ascend in that direction, when the northern route was so
easy. Nevertheless, the summit was reached by that route by the
undaunted Carrel. From knowing the final slope over which he passed,
and from the account of Mr. F. C. Grove—who is the only traveller by
whom it has been traversed—I do not hesitate to term the ascent of
Carrel and Bich in 1865 the most desperate piece of
mountain-scrambling upon record. In 1869 I asked Carrel if he had
ever done anything more difficult. His reply was, “Man cannot do
anything much more difficult than that!” See Appendix *D*.
231 The summit-ridge was much shattered, although not so extensively as
the south-west and north-east ridges. The highest rock, in 1865, was
a block of micaschist, and the fragment I broke off it not only
possesses, in a remarkable degree, the character of the peak, but
mimics, in an astonishing manner, the details of its form. (See
illustration on page 284.)
232 It is most unusual to see the southern half of the panorama
unclouded. A hundred ascents may be made before this will be the
case again.
233 The substance of Chapter XX. appeared in a letter in the _Times_,
August 8, 1865. A few paragraphs have now been added, and a few
corrections have been made. The former will help to make clear that
which was obscure in the original account, and the latter are,
mostly, unimportant.
234 If the members of the party had been more equally efficient, Croz
would have been placed _last_.
235 Described upon pp. 277-8.
236 Not at all an unusual proceeding, even between born mountaineers. I
wish to convey the impression that Croz was using all pains, rather
than to indicate extreme inability on the part of Mr. Hadow. The
insertion of the word “absolutely” makes the passage, perhaps,
rather ambiguous. I retain it now, in order to offer the above
explanation.
237 At the moment of the accident, Croz, Hadow, and Hudson, were all
close together. Between Hudson and Lord F. Douglas the rope was all
but taut, and the same between all the others, who were _above_.
Croz was standing by the side of a rock which afforded good hold,
and if he had been aware, or had suspected, that anything was about
to occur, he might and would have gripped it, and would have
prevented any mischief. He was taken totally by surprise. Mr. Hadow
slipped off his feet on to his back, his feet struck Croz in the
small of the back, and knocked him right over, head first. Croz’s
axe was out of his reach, yet without it he managed to get his head
uppermost before he disappeared from our sight. If it had been in
his hand I have no doubt that he would have stopped himself and Mr.
Hadow.
Mr. Hadow, at the moment of his slip, was not occupying a bad
position. He could have moved either up or down, and could touch
with his hand the rock of which I have spoken. Hudson was not so
well placed, but he had liberty of motion. The rope was not taut
from him to Hadow, and the two men fell ten or twelve feet before
the jerk came upon him. Lord F. Douglas was not favourably placed,
and could neither move up nor down. Old Peter was firmly planted,
and stood just beneath a large rock which he hugged with both arms.
I enter into these details to make it more apparent that the
position occupied by the party at the moment of the accident was not
by any means excessively trying. We were compelled to pass over the
exact spot where the slip occurred, and we found—even with shaken
nerves—that _it_ was not a difficult place to pass. I have described
the _slope generally_ as difficult, and it is so undoubtedly to most
persons; but it must be distinctly understood that Mr. Hadow slipped
at an easy part.
238 Or, more correctly, we held on as tightly as possible. There was no
time to change our position.
239 These ends, I believe, are still attached to the rocks, and mark our
line of ascent and descent. I saw one of them in 1873.
240 I paid very little attention to this remarkable phenomenon, and was
glad when it disappeared, as it distracted our attention. Under
ordinary circumstances I should have felt vexed afterwards at not
having observed with greater precision an occurrence so rare and so
wonderful. I can add very little about it to that which is said
above. The sun was directly at our backs; that is to say, the
fog-bow was opposite to the sun. The time was 6.30 P.M. The forms
were at once tender and sharp; neutral in tone; were developed
gradually, and disappeared suddenly. The mists were light (that is,
not dense), and were dissipated in the course of the evening.
It has been suggested that the crosses are incorrectly figured in
the accompanying view, and that they were probably formed by the
intersection of other circles or ellipses, as shown in the annexed
diagram. I think this suggestion is very likely correct; but I have
preferred to follow my original memorandum.
[Illustration: Diagram of fog-bow]
In Parry’s _Narrative of an Attempt to reach the North Pole_, 4to,
1828, there is, at pp. 99-100, an account of the occurrence of a
phenomenon analogous to the above-mentioned one. “At half-past five
P.M. we witnessed a very beautiful natural phenomenon. A broad white
fog-bow first appeared opposite to the sun, as was very commonly the
case,” etc. I follow Parry in using the term fog-bow.
It may be observed that, upon the descent of the Italian guides
(whose expedition is noticed upon p. 282, and again in the
Appendix), upon July 17, 1865, the phenomenon commonly termed the
Brocken was observed. The following is the account given by the Abbé
Amé Gorret in the _Feuille d’Aoste_, October 31, 1865:—“Nous étions
sur l’épaule (the ‘shoulder’) quand nous remarquâmes un phénomène
qui nous fit plaisir; le nuage était très-dense du côté de
Valtornanche, c’était serein en Suisse; nous nous vîmes au milieu
d’un cercle aux couleurs de l’arc-en-ciel; ce mirage nous formait à
tous une couronne au milieu de laquelle nous voyions notre ombre.”
This occurred at about 6.30 to 7 P.M., and the Italians in question
were at about the same height as ourselves—namely, 14,000 feet.
241 They had been travelling with, and had been engaged by, Lord F.
Douglas, and so considered him their employer, and responsible to
them.
242 Transcribed from the original memorandum.
243 Nor did I speak to them afterwards, unless it was absolutely
necessary, so long as we were together.
244 A portrait of Franz Andermatten is given in the engraving facing p.
202.
245 To the point marked *Z* on the map.
246 Marked with a cross on the map.
247 A pair of gloves, a belt, and boot that had belonged to him, were
found. This, somehow, became publicly known, and gave rise to wild
notions, which would not have been entertained had it been also
known that the _whole_ of the boots of those who had fallen _were
off_, and were lying upon the snow near the bodies.
248 The three ropes have been reduced by photography to the same scale.
249 I was one hundred feet or more from the others whilst they were
being tied up, and am unable to throw any light on the matter. Croz
and old Peter no doubt tied up the others.
250 This is not the only occasion upon which M. Clemenz (who presided
over the inquiry) has failed to give up answers that he has
promised. It is greatly to be regretted that he does not feel that
the suppression of the truth is equally against the interests of
travellers and of the guides. If the men are untrustworthy, the
public should be warned of the fact; but if they are blameless, why
allow them to remain under unmerited suspicion?
Old Peter Taugwalder is a man who is labouring under an unjust
accusation. Notwithstanding repeated denials, even his comrades and
neighbours at Zermatt persist in asserting or insinuating that he
_cut_ the rope which led from him to Lord F. Douglas. In regard to
this infamous charge, I say that he _could_ not do so at the moment
of the slip, and that the end of the rope in my possession shows
that he did not do so beforehand. There remains, however, the
suspicious fact that the rope which broke was the thinnest and
weakest one that we had. It is suspicious, because it is unlikely
that any of the four men in front would have selected an old and
weak rope when there was abundance of new, and much stronger, rope
to spare; and, on the other hand, because if Taugwalder thought that
an accident was likely to happen, it was to his interest to have the
weaker rope where it was placed.
I should rejoice to learn that his answers to the questions which
were put to him were satisfactory. Not only was his act at the
critical moment wonderful as a feat of strength, but it was
admirable in its performance at the right time. I am told that he is
now nearly incapable for work—not absolutely mad, but with intellect
gone and almost crazy; which is not to be wondered at, whether we
regard him as a man who contemplated a scoundrelly meanness, or as
an injured man suffering under an unjust accusation.
In respect to young Peter, it is not possible to speak in the same
manner. The odious idea that he propounded (which I believe emanated
from _him_) he has endeavoured to trade upon, in spite of the fact
that his father was paid (for both) in the presence of witnesses.
Whatever may be his abilities as a guide, he is not one to whom I
would ever trust my life, or afford any countenance.
251 They followed the route laid down upon the map, and on their descent
were in great peril from the fall of a _sérac_. The character of the
work they undertook may be gathered from a reference to p. 100.
252 This, or a subsequent party, discovered a sleeve. No other traces
have been found.
253 See p. 48.
254 See p. 120.
255 Malte-Brun’s _Annales des Voyages_, April 1869.
256 Peter Perrn, the well-known guide, died at Zermatt in the winter of
1873-4.
257 A place on the final peak, about half-way between the “Shoulder” and
the summit.
258 We resume here the account of the proceedings of the Italians who
started from Breil on the 11th of July 1865. See p. 269.
259 The foregoing particulars were related to me by J.-A. Carrel.
260 The following details are taken from the account of the Abbé Amé
Gorret (published in the _Feuille d’Aoste_, Oct. 1865), who was at
Breil when the men returned.
261 See Appendix *E*, attempt No. 1.
262 These terms, as well as the others, Great Staircase, Col du Lion,
Tête du Lion, Chimney, and so forth, were applied by Carrel and
myself to the various points, in consequence of real or supposed
resemblances in the rocks to other things. A few of the terms
originated with the Author, but they are chiefly due to the
inventive genius of J.-A. Carrel.
263 This point is marked by the red letter *E* upon the lower of the two
outlines facing p. 44.
264 I have seen icicles more than a hundred feet long hanging from the
rocks near the summit of the Matterhorn.
265 The words of the Abbé. I imagine that he meant _comparatively easy_.
266 The pace of a party is ruled by that of its least efficient member.
267 See pp. 83-4 and pp. 90-1.
268 A ridge descending towards the Z’Muttgletscher.
269 Joseph and J.-Pierre Maquignaz alone ascended; the others had had
enough and returned. It should be observed that ropes had been
fixed, by J.-A. Carrel and others, over _all_ the difficult parts of
the mountain as high as the shoulder, _before_ the advent of these
persons. This explains the facility with which they moved over
ground which had been found very trying in earlier times. The young
woman declared that the ascent (as far as she went) was a trifle, or
used words to that effect; if she had tried to get to the same
height before 1862, she would probably have been of a different
opinion.
270 Cette roche granitoïde paraît surtout à la base ouest du pic sous le
col du Lion, tandis qu’elle ne paraît pas du tout sur le flanc est,
où elle paraît passer au gneiss talqueux.
271 En plusieurs localités des environs, cette zone calcarifère présente
des bancs et des lentilles de dolomie, de cargueule, de gypse et de
quartzite.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Italic type is marked by underscore (_), boldface by asterisk (*).
The following changes have been made to the text:
page 24, “fire” changed to “fir”
page 178, “Cormayeur” changed to “Courmayeur”
page 203, “regele” changed to “regale”, “Pernn” changed to “Perrn”
page 243, “naturrally” changed to “naturally”
page 269, opening quote added before “That”
page 294, “crritical” changed to “critical”
page 315, period added after “47-9”
page 319, period added after “Andermatten”
page 321, period added after “Taugwalder”
Variations in accentuation (“chalet”/“châlet”), hyphenation (e.g.
“commonplace”/“common-place”, “midday”/“mid-day”) and spelling
(“Ortler”/“Orteler”) have not been changed.