AN EXCITING PASSAGE OF THE COL DE PILATTE
Even now the valleys and mountains of Dauphiné are neglected in
comparison with the ranges of Mont Blanc, Monte Rosa, and other famous
mountain chains of the Alps. In 1864, when Mr Whymper with his friends
Messrs Moore and Walker undertook a summer campaign there, it was
practically unexplored from the climbers' point of view. The party was
a skilful and experienced one, the guides, Almer and Croz, of the
highest class, and the _esprit de corps_ in the little army of
invasion most admirable. Thus it is no wonder that peak after peak
fell before them, passes were accomplished at the first assault, and
no accident or annoyance spoilt the splendid series of expeditions
which were so successfully accomplished. Of these I have taken the
account of the crossing of the Col de Pilatte, a high glacier pass,
for, though it was excelled in difficulty by other climbs, yet it is
so wittily described by Mr Whymper in his _Scrambles in the Alps_,
and gives so excellent an idea of the sort of work met with on
glaciers, and the ease with which a thoroughly competent party tackles
it, that it cannot fail to be read with interest.
The three Englishmen had been joined by a French friend of theirs,
Monsieur Reynaud, and had left their night quarters at Entraigues at
3.30 A.M. on the morning of 27th June. Their course was prodigiously
steep. _In less than two miles difference of latitude they rose one
mile of absolute height._ The route, however, was not really
difficult, and they made good progress. They had reached the foot of
the steep part when I take up the narrative in Mr Whymper's own words:
"At 9.30 A.M. we commenced the ascent of the couloir leading from the
nameless glacier to a point in the ridge, just to the east of Mont
Bans.[7] So far the route had been nothing more than a steep grind in
an angle where little could be seen, but now views opened out in
several directions, and the way began to be interesting. It was more
so, perhaps, to us than to our companion M. Reynaud, who had no rest
in the last night. He was, moreover, heavily laden. Science was to be
regarded--his pockets were stuffed with books; heights and angles were
to be observed--his knapsack was filled with instruments; hunger was
to be guarded against--his shoulders were ornamented with a huge
nimbus of bread, and a leg of mutton swung behind from his knapsack,
looking like an overgrown tail. Like a good-hearted fellow he had
brought this food thinking we might be in need of it. As it happened,
we were well provided for, and, having our own packs to carry, could
not relieve him of his superfluous burdens, which, naturally, he did
not like to throw away. As the angles steepened, the strain on his
strength became more and more apparent. At last he began to groan. At
first a most gentle and mellow groan; and as we rose so did his
groans, till at last the cliffs were groaning in echo, and we were
moved to laughter.
[Illustration: START OF A CLIMBING PARTY BY MOONLIGHT.]
[Illustration: SHADOWS AT SUNRISE.]
[Illustration: A STANDING GLISSADE.]
[Illustration: AN EASY DESCENT.]
"Croz cut the way with unflagging energy throughout the whole of the
ascent, and at 10.45 we stood on the summit of our pass, intending to
refresh ourselves with a good halt; but just at that moment a mist,
which had been playing about the ridge, swooped down and blotted out
the whole of the view on the northern side. Croz was the only one who
caught a glimpse of the descent, and it was deemed advisable to
push on immediately, while its recollection was fresh in his memory.
We are consequently unable to tell anything about the summit of the
pass, except that it lies immediately to the east of Mont Bans, and is
elevated about 11,300 feet above the level of the sea. It is one of
the highest passes in Dauphiné. We called it the Col de Pilatte.
"We commenced to descend towards the Glacier de Pilatte by a slope of
smooth ice, the face of which, according to the measurement of Mr
Moore, had an inclination of 54°! Croz still led, and the others
followed at intervals of about 15 feet, all being tied together, and
Almer occupying the responsible position of last man: the two guides
were therefore about 70 feet apart. They were quite invisible to each
other from the mist, and looked spectral even to us. But the strong
man could be heard by all hewing out the steps below, while every now
and then the voice of the steady man pierced the cloud: 'Slip not,
dear sirs; place well your feet; stir not until you are certain.'
"For three-quarters of an hour we progressed in this fashion. The axe
of Croz all at once stopped. 'What is the matter, Croz?' 'Bergschrund,
gentlemen.' 'Can we get over?' 'Upon my word, I don't know; I think we
must jump.' The clouds rolled away right and left as he spoke. The
effect was dramatic! It was a _coup de théâtre_, preparatory to the
'great sensation leap' which was about to be executed by the entire
company.
"Some unseen cause, some cliff or obstruction in the rocks underneath,
had caused our wall of ice to split into two portions, and the huge
fissure which had thus been formed extended, on each hand, as far as
could be seen. We, on the slope above, were separated from the slope
below by a mighty crevasse. No running up and down to look for an
easier place to cross could be done on an ice-slope of 54°; the chasm
had to be passed then and there.
"A downward jump of 15 or 16 feet, and a forward leap of 7 or 8 feet
had to be made at the same time. That is not much, you will say. It
was not much. It was not the quantity, but it was the quality of the
jump which gave to it its particular flavour. You had to hit a narrow
ridge of ice. If that was passed, it seemed as if you might roll down
for ever and ever. If it was not attained, you dropped into the
crevasse below, which, although partly choked by icicles and snow that
had fallen from above, was still gaping in many places, ready to
receive an erratic body.
"Croz untied Walker in order to get rope enough, and warning us to
hold fast, sprang over the chasm. He alighted cleverly on his feet;
untied himself and sent up the rope to Walker, who followed his
example. It was then my turn, and I advanced to the edge of the ice.
The second which followed was what is called a supreme moment. That is
to say, I felt supremely ridiculous. The world seemed to revolve at a
frightful pace, and my stomach to fly away. The next moment I found
myself sprawling in the snow, and then, of course, vowed that it was
nothing, and prepared to encourage my friend Reynaud.
"He came to the edge and made declarations. I do not believe that he
was a whit more reluctant to pass the place than we others, but he was
infinitely more demonstrative--in a word, he was French. He wrung his
hands, 'Oh! what a _diable_ of a place!' 'It is nothing, Reynaud,' I
said, 'it is nothing.' 'Jump,' cried the others, 'jump.' But he turned
round, as far as one can do such a thing in an ice-step, and covered
his face with his hands, ejaculating, 'Upon my word, it is not
possible. No! no! no! it is not possible.'
"How he came over I scarcely know. We saw a toe--it seemed to belong
to Moore; we saw Reynaud a flying body, coming down as if taking a
header into water; with arms and legs all abroad, his leg of mutton
flying in the air, his bâton escaped from his grasp; and then we heard
a thud as if a bundle of carpets had been pitched out of a window.
When set upon his feet he was a sorry spectacle; his head was a great
snowball; brandy was trickling out of one side of the knapsack,
chartreuse out of the other--we bemoaned its loss, but we roared with
laughter.
"I cannot close this chapter without paying tribute to the ability
with which Croz led us, through a dense mist, down the remainder of
the Glacier de Pilatte. As an exhibition of strength and skill, it has
seldom been surpassed in the Alps or elsewhere. On this almost unknown
and very steep glacier, he was perfectly at home, even in the mists.
Never able to see 50 feet ahead, he still went on with the utmost
certainty, and without having to retrace a single step; and displayed
from first to last consummate knowledge of the materials with which he
was dealing. Now he cut steps down one side of a _sérac_, went with a
dash at the other side, and hauled us up after him; then cut away
along a ridge until a point was gained from which we could jump on to
another ridge; then, doubling back, found a snow-bridge, over which he
crawled on hands and knees, towed us across by the legs, ridiculing
our apprehensions, mimicking our awkwardness, declining all help,
bidding us only to follow him.
"About 1 P.M. we emerged from the mist and found ourselves just
arrived upon the level portion of the glacier, having, as Reynaud
properly remarked, come down as quickly as if there had not been any
mist at all. Then we attacked the leg of mutton which my friend had so
thoughtfully brought with him, and afterwards raced down, with renewed
energy, to La Bérarde."
FOOTNOTE:
[7] The upper part of the southern side of the Col de Pilatte, and the
small glaciers spoken of on p. 211, can be seen from the high road
leading from Briançon to Mont Dauphin, between the 12th and 13th
kilomètre stones (from Briançon).