A FINE PERFORMANCE WITHOUT GUIDES
The precipitous peak of the Meije, in Dauphiné, had long, like the
Matterhorn, been believed inaccessible, and it was only after repeated
attempts that at last the summit was reached. The direct route from La
Bérarde will always be an extremely difficult climb to anyone who
desires to do his fair share of the work; the descent of the great
wall of rock is one of the few places I have been down, which took
longer on the descent than on the ascent.
When the members of the Alpine Club heard that a party of Englishmen
had succeeded, _without guides_, in making the expedition, they were
much impressed by the feat, and on 17th December 1879, one of the
climbers, Mr Charles Pilkington, read a paper before the Club
describing his ascent. From it I quote the following. The party
included the brothers Pilkington and Mr Gardiner.
[Illustration: The Meije is to the left, the Glacier Carré is the
snow-patch on it, beneath this is the Great Wall.]
[Illustration: ASCENDING A SNOWY WALL (page 216).]
"On the 19th July 1878, we reached La Bérarde, where we found Mr
Coolidge with the two Almers. Coolidge knew that we had come to try
the Meije, and he had very kindly given us all the information he
could, not only about it, but about several other peaks and passes in
the district. Almer also, after finding out our plans, was good enough
not to laugh at us, and gave us one or two useful hints. He told us as
well that the difficulty did not so much consist in finding the way as
in getting up it.
"At two o'clock in the afternoon of 20th July, we left for our bivouac
in the Vallon des Etançons, taking another man with us besides our two
porters, and at four reached the large square rock called the Hôtel
Châteleret, after the ancient name of the valley. We determined to
sleep here instead of at Coolidge's refuge a little higher up. The
Meije was in full view, and we had our first good look at it since we
had read the account of its ascent.
"We went hopefully to bed, telling our porters to call us at eleven
the same evening, so as to start at midnight; but long before that it
was raining hard, and it required all the engineering skill of the
party and the india-rubber bag to keep the water out. It cleared up at
daybreak. Of course it was far too late to start then; besides that,
we had agreed not to make the attempt unless we had every sign of fine
weather.
"As we had nothing else to do, we started at 8 A.M. on an exploring
expedition, taking our spare ropes and some extra provisions, to
leave, if possible, at M. Duhamel's cairn, some distance up the
mountain, whilst our porters were to improve the refuge and lay in a
stock of firewood. The snow was very soft, and we were rather lazy, so
it was not until eleven that we reached the upper part of the Brêche
Glacier, and were opposite our work. The way lies up the great
southern buttress, which forms the eastern boundary of the Brêche
Glacier, merging into the general face of the mountain about one-third
of the total height from the Glacier des Etançons, and 700 feet below,
and a little to the west of the Glacier Carré, from whence the final
peak is climbed. The chief difficulty is the ascent from M. Duhamel's
cairn, on the top of the buttress to the Glacier Carré.
"After a few steps up the snow, we gained the crest of the buttress by
a short scramble. The crest is narrow, but very easy, and we went
rapidly along, until we came to where a great break in the arête
divides the buttress into an upper and a lower part; being no longer
able to keep along the crest, we were forced to cross the rocks to our
left to the couloir. Not quite liking the look of the snow, Gardiner
asked us to hold tight whilst he tried it. Finding it all right he
kicked steps up, and at five minutes past one we reached the cairn,
having taken one hour and thirty-five minutes from the glacier. The
great wall rose straight above us, but the way up, which we had had no
difficulty in making out with the telescope from below, was no longer
to be seen. Our spirits which had been rising during our ascent from
the glacier, sunk once more, and our former uncertainty came back upon
us; for it is difficult to imagine anything more hopeless-looking than
this face of the Meije. It has been said that, after finding all the
most promising ways impossible, this seeming impossibility was tried
as a last chance. We looked at it a long time, but at last gave up
trying to make out the way as a bad job, determined to climb where we
could, if we had luck enough to get so far another day; so, leaving
our spare ropes, a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, and a tin of
curried fowl carefully covered with stones, we made the best of our
way back, reaching the glacier in one hour and twenty minutes, and our
bivouac in an hour and a half more. There we spent the next night and
following day, but at last we had to give in to the bad weather, and
go sorrowfully down to La Bérarde. It was very disappointing. We had
been looking forward to the attempt for more than six months. I had
to leave in a few days for England. It was not a mountain for two men
to be on alone; what if we had spent all our time and trouble for
nothing, and only carried our bed and provisions to the cairn for
someone else to use?
"On the evening of the 24th we were again at our bivouac; this time
there was a cold north wind blowing, and the weather looked more
settled than it had yet done since we came into the district. We
watched the last glow of the setting sun fade on the crags of the
Meije, and then crawled into our now well-known holes. At midnight
exactly we were off, and, as we had much to carry, we took our porters
with us as far as the bottom of the buttress, where we waited for
daylight. At last the Tête du Replat opposite to us caught the
reflection of the light, so, leaving a bottle of champagne for our
return, as a reward of victory or consolation for defeat, we started
at 3.15, unfortunately with an omen, for in bidding good-bye to our
porters, we said 'adieu,' instead of 'au revoir, and though we altered
the word at once, they left us with grave faces, old Lagier mournfully
shaking his head. Gardiner took the lead again, and at 4.45 we once
more stood beside the stone-man, finding our _câche_ of provisions all
safe. Here we rearranged our luggage. Both the others took heavy
loads; Gardiner the knapsack, Lawrence the 200 feet of spare rope and
our wine tin, holding three quarts; the sleeping bag only was given to
me, as I was told off to lead.
"We got under weigh at 5.15, and soon clambered up the remaining part
of the buttress, and reached the bottom of the great wall, the Glacier
Carré being about 700 feet above us, and some distance to our right.
We knew that from here a level traverse had to be made until nearly
under the glacier before it was possible to turn upwards. We had seen
a ledge running in the right direction; crossing some steep rocks and
climbing over a projecting knob (which served us a nasty trick on our
descent), we let ourselves gently down on to the ledge, leaving a
small piece of red rag to guide us in coming back. The ledge, although
4 or 5 feet broad, was not all that could be wished, for it was more
than half-covered with snow, which, as the ledge sloped outwards, was
not to be trusted; the melting and refreezing of this had formed ice
below, nearly covering the available space, forcing us to walk on the
edge. We cut a step here and there. It improved as we went on, and
when half-way across the face we were able to turn slightly upwards,
and at 6.30 were near the spot where later in the day the icicles
from the extreme western end of the Glacier Carré fall. It is not
necessary to go right into the line of fire, and in coming back we
kept even farther away than on the ascent.
"So far the way had been fairly easy to find, but now came the great
question of the climb; how to get up the 600 feet of rock wall above
us. To our right it rose in one sheer face, the icicles from the
Glacier Carré, fringing the top; to our left the rocks, though not so
steep, were very smooth, and at the top, especially to the right, near
the glacier, they became precipitous. A little above us a bridge ledge
led away to the left, slanting upwards towards the lowest and most
practicable part of the wall, obviously the way up. Climbing to this
ledge, we followed it nearly half-way back across the face, then the
holding-places got fewer and more filled with ice, the outward slope
more and more until at last its insecure and slippery look warned us
off it, and we turned up the steeper but rougher rocks on our right.
In doing so I believe we forsook the route followed by all our
predecessors, but we were obliged to do so by the glazed state of the
rocks.
"As the direction in which we were now going was taking us towards the
glacier and the steep upper rocks, we soon turned again to our left
to avoid them, the only way being up some smooth slabs, with very
little hold, the sort of rocks where one's waistcoat gives a great
deal of holding power; worming oneself up these we reached a small
shelf where we were again in doubt. It was impossible to go straight
up; to the left the rocks, though easier, only led to the higher part
of the ledge we had forsaken; we spent some minutes examining this
way, but again did not like the look of the glazed rocks; so we took
the only alternative and went to the right. Keeping slightly upwards,
we gained about 50 feet in actual height by difficult climbing. We
were now getting on to the steep upper rocks near the glacier, which
we had wanted to avoid.
"This last piece of the wall will always remain in our minds as the
most desperate piece of work we have ever done; the rocks so far had
been firm, but now, although far too steep for loose stones to lodge
on, were so shattered that we dared not trust them; at the same time
we had to be very careful, lest in removing any we should bring others
down upon us.
"One place I shall never forget. Gardiner was below, on a small ledge,
with no hand-hold to speak of, trying to look as if he could stand any
pull; my brother on a knob a little higher up, to help me if
necessary. I was able to pull myself about 8 feet higher, but the next
rock was insecure, and the whole nearly perpendicular. A good many
loose stones had been already pulled out; this one would not come. It
is hard work tugging at a loose stone with one hand, the other in a
crack, and only one foot finding anything to rest on. I looked down,
told them how it was, and came down to rest.
"For about a minute nothing was said; all our faces turned towards the
Glacier Carré, now only about 60 feet above us. We all felt it would
have been hard indeed to turn back, yet it was not a pleasant place,
and we could not see what was again above. We were on what may be
fairly called a precipice. In removing the loose stones, the slightest
backhanded jerk, just enough to miss the heads of the men behind, sent
them clear into the air; they never touched anything for a long time
after leaving the hand, and disappeared with a disagreeable hum on to
the Glacier des Etançons, 1800 feet below. We looked and tried on both
sides, but it was useless, so we went at it again. After the fourth or
fifth attempt I managed to get up about 10 feet, to where there was
some sort of hold; then my brother followed, giving me rope enough to
get to a firm rock, where I remained till joined by the others. It
was almost as bad above, but we crawled carefully up; one place
actually overhung--fortunately there was plenty of hold, and we slung
ourselves up it! From this point the rocks became rather easier, and
at 9.30 we reached a small sloping shelf of rock, about 20 yards to
the west of the Glacier Carré and on the top of the great rock wall.
Stopping here for a short time to get cool, and to let one of the
party down to get the axes, which had been tied to a rope and had
caught in a crevice in the rock, we changed leaders, and crossing some
shelving rocks, climbed up a gully, or cleft, filled with icicles, and
reached the platform of rock at the south-west end of the Glacier
Carré at 10.15 A.M.
"The platform we had reached can only be called one by comparison; it
is rather smooth, and slopes too much to form a safe sleeping-place,
but we left our extra luggage there.
"At 11.10 we started up the glacier, Gardiner going ahead, kicking
steps into the soft, steep snow.
"We were much more cheerful now than we had been two hours before. My
companions had got rid of their heavy loads, the day was still very
fine, and Almer had told us that, could we but reach the glacier, we
should have a good chance of success.
"Shortly before 1 P.M. we were underneath the well-known overhanging
top, the rocks of which, cutting across the face, form a triangular
corner. It is the spot where Gaspard lost so much time looking for the
way on the first ascent. We knew that the arête had here to be
crossed, and the northern face on the other side taken to.
"Almost before I got my head over the crest came the anxious question
from below, 'Will it go on the other side?' I could not see, however;
so when the others came up, Gardiner fixed himself and let us down to
the full extent of the rope. The whole northern face, as far as we
could see, looked terribly icy; but as there was no other way of
regaining the arête higher up without going on to it, we told him to
come down after us.
"Turning to the right as soon as possible, we had to traverse the
steep, smooth face for a short distance. It took a long time, for the
rocks were even worse than they had appeared; we often had to clear
them of ice for a yard before we could find any hold at all and
sometimes only the left hand could be spared for cutting. After about
50 yards of this work we were able to turn upwards, and with great
difficulty wriggled up the slippery rocks leading to the arête; rather
disgusted to find the north face so difficult--owing, perhaps, to the
lateness of the season.
"It was our last difficulty, for the arête, though narrow, gives good
hand and foot-hold, and we pressed eagerly onwards. In a few minutes
it became more level, and there, sure enough, were the three
stone-men, only separated from us by some easy rocks and snow, which
we went at with a rush, and at 2.25 we stood on the highest point of
the Meije.
"Knowing that it would be useless for us to try and descend further
than the Glacier Carré that day, and as it was pleasanter on the top
than there, we went in for a long halt. Untying the rope--for the top
is broad enough to be safe--we examined the central cairn, where the
tokens are kept. We found a tin box, containing the names of our
predecessors; a bottle, hanging by a string, the property of Mr
Coolidge; a tri-coloured flag; and a scented pocket-handkerchief
belonging to M. Guillemin, still retaining its former fragrance, which
it had not 'wasted on the desert air.' We tore a corner off each,
leaving a red-and-yellow rag in exchange; put our names in the tin,
and an English penny with a hole bored through it.
"Then, after repairing the rather dilapidated southern cairn, we sat
down to smoke and enjoy the view, which the fact of the mountain
standing on the outside of the group, the tremendous depth to which
the eye plunges on each side, the expansive panorama of the Dauphiné
and neighbouring Alps, and the beautiful distant view of the Pennine
chain from Mont Blanc to Monte Rosa, combine to make one of the finest
in the Alps.
"At four o'clock, after an hour and a half on the top, we started
downwards, soon arriving at the spot where it was necessary to leave
the arête; however, before doing so, we went along it to where it was
cut off, to see if we could let ourselves straight down into the gap,
and so avoid the detour by the northern face, but it was
impracticable; so, putting the middle of the spare rope round a
projecting rock on the arête, we let ourselves down to where we had
gone along on the level, pulling the rope down after us; then
regaining the gap by the morning's route, we crossed it, and leisurely
descended the south-western face to the Glacier Carré, filling our now
empty wine tin with water on the way down. We reached the glacier at
6.30. In skirting the base of the Pic du Glacier we found a nice
hollow in the snow, which looked a good place to sleep in. Gardiner
wanted one of us to stop and build a stone-wall, whilst the others
fetched the bag and provisions from the bottom of the glacier.
Lawrence was neutral; I was rather against it, having slept on snow
before. At last we all went down to the rocky platform where our
luggage had been left. We cleared a place for the bag, but it all
sloped so much, and the edge of the precipice was so near, that we
dared not lie down. We looked for a good rock to tie ourselves to;
even that could not be found. Then some one thought we might scrape a
hole in the steep snow above us, and get into it. That, of course, was
quite out of the question. Nothing therefore remained for us but
Gardiner's hollow above--the only level place we had seen above M.
Duhamel's cairn large enough for us to lay our bag on. There was no
time to be lost; it was getting dark; a sharp frost had already set
in: so we at once shouldered our traps and trudged wearily up the
glacier once more, wishing now that we had left somebody to build a
wall.
"On reaching the hollow we put the ropes, axes, hats, and knapsack on
the snow as a sort of carpet, placed the bag on the top, then,
pulling off our boots for pillows, and putting on the comfortable
woollen helmets given to us by Mrs Hartley, got into the bag to have
our supper. Fortunately there was not much wind; but it was rather
difficult to open the meat tin. We did as well as we could, however,
and after supper tried to smoke; but the cold air got into the bag and
made that a failure; so we looked at the scene instead.
"The moon was half full, and shone upon us as we lay, making
everything look very beautiful. We could see the snow just in front of
us, and then, far away through the frosty air all the mountains on the
other side of the Vallon des Etançons, with the silver-grey peak of
the Ecrins behind, its icy ridges standing out sharply against the
clear sky; and deep down in the dark valley below was the signal fire
of our porters. As this could only be seen by sitting bolt upright, we
got tired of looking at it, and the last link connecting us with the
lower world being broken, we felt our utter loneliness.
"The moon soon going behind a rocky spur of the Pic du Glacier, we lay
down and tried to get warm by pulling the string round the neck of the
bag as tight as possible and breathing inside; but somehow the outside
air got in also. So closing it as well as we could, with only our
heads out, we went to sleep, but not for long. The side on which we
lay soon got chilled. Now, as the bag was narrow, we all had to face
one way on account of our knees; so the one who happened to be the
soonest chilled through would give the word, and we all turned
together. I suppose we must have changed sides every half-hour through
the long night. We got some sleep, however, and felt all right when
the first glimmering of dawn came over the mountains on our left. As
soon as we could see we had breakfast; but the curried fowl was
frozen, and the bread could only be cut with difficulty, as a
shivering seized one every minute. We had the greatest trouble in
getting our boots on. They were pressed out of shape, and, in spite of
having been under our heads, were hard frozen. At last, by burning
paper inside, and using them as lantern for our candle, we thawed them
enough to get them on, and then spent a quarter of an hour stamping
about to thaw ourselves. We rolled the bag up and tied it fast to a
projecting rock, hanging the meat tin near as a guide to anyone
looking for it.
"At 4.30 we set off, very thankful that we had a fine day before us.
We soon went down the glacier, and down and across to the shelf of
rock where the real descent of the wall was to begin. A few feet
below was a jagged tooth of rock which we could not move; so to it we
tied one end of the 100 feet of rope, taking care to protect the rope
where it pressed on the sharp edges, with pieces of an old
handkerchief; the other end we threw over the edge, and by leaning
over we could just see the tail of it on some rocks below the bad
part,[9] so we knew it was long enough.
"After a short discussion we arranged to go down one at a time, as
there were places where we expected to throw all our weight on the
rope. Gardiner was to go first as he was the heaviest; my brother
next, carrying all the traps and the three axes, as he had the
strongest pair of hands and arms in the party; whilst I as the
lightest, was to bring down the rear. So tying the climbing rope round
his waist as an extra help, Gardiner started, whilst we paid it out.
He soon disappeared, but we knew how he was getting on, and when he
was in the worst places, by the 'Lower,' 'A little lower,' 'Hold,'
'Hold hard,' which came up from below, getting fainter as he got
lower. Fifty feet of the rope passed through our hands before he
stopped going. 'Can you hold there?' we asked. 'No. Hold me while I
rest a little, and then give me 10 feet more if you can.' So after a
while we got notice to lower, and down he went again until nearly all
our rope was gone; then it slackened. He told us he was fast, and that
we could pull up the rope.
"Then Lawrence shouldered his burdens, the three axes being tied below
him with a short piece of rope. The same thing happened again, only it
was more exciting, for every now and then the axes caught and loosened
with a jerk, which I felt on the rope I was paying out, although it
was tied to him. At first I thought it was a slip, but soon got used
to it. Lawrence did not go so far as Gardiner, but stopped to help me
at the bottom of the worst piece.
"It was now my turn. Tying the other end of the loose rope round me, I
crawled cautiously down to where the tight rope was fixed. The others
told me afterwards they did not like it. I certainly did not. The
upper part was all right; but lower down the rocks were so steep that
if I put much weight on the rope it pulled me off them, and gave a
tendency to swing over towards the Glacier Carré, which, as only one
hand was left for climbing with, was rather difficult to resist. I
remember very well sitting on a projecting rock, with nothing below
it but air for at least 100 feet. Leaving this, Lawrence half pulled
me towards him with the loose rope. A few steps more and I was beside
him, and we descended together to Gardiner, cutting off the fixed rope
high up, so as to leave as little as possible, and in a few minutes
more we all three reached the small shelf of rocks above the smooth
slabs by which we had descended the day before. It was the place where
we had spent some time trying to avoid the steep bit we had just
descended, and which had taken us nearly two hours.
"This ledge is about 3 feet broad. We had got down the only place on
the mountain that had given us any anxiety. It was warm and pleasant;
all the day was before us; so we took more than an hour to lunch and
rest.
"On starting again we ought to have stuck to our old route and
descended by the slabs, as we could easily have done; but after a
brief discussion we arranged to take a short cut, by fixing a second
rope and letting ourselves straight down the drop on to the lower
slanting ledge, at a point a few feet higher than where we had left it
on the ascent.
"We descended one at a time, as before, and, what with tying and
untying, took much longer than we should have done had we gone the
other way. On gaining the ledge we turned to our left and soon came
across one of our marks; then striking down sooner than our old route
would have taken us, we gave a wider berth to the falling ice, and got
into the traverse leading to the top of the buttress. Along it we
went; but it looked different, had less snow, and when we came near
the end a steep rock, with a nasty drop below, blocked the way. It
appeared so bad that I said we were wrong. As the others were not
sure, we retraced our steps, and by a very difficult descent gained a
lower ledge. There was no snow on this, but the melting of the snow
above made the rocks we had to take hold of so wet that we often got a
stream of water down our arms and necks.
"At last, after nearly crossing, it became quite impossible, and we
turned back, having gained nothing but a wetting.
"Below it was far too steep. Immediately above was the place we had
tried just before. We could not make it out; we had been so positive
about the place above.
"We were just thinking of trying it again more carefully, when
Lawrence pointed up at something, and there, sure enough, was the bit
of red rag left the day before to show the commencement of the
traverse.
"We marked where it was, and then crawled back along the ledge on
which we were. Scrambling up the steep drop, we made quickly upwards,
and, turning towards our flag, found that the only way to it was along
the very ledge where we had first tried, and which proved to be the
traverse after all.
"We were very glad to get into it once more, as for the last three
hours we had been on the look-out for falling ice. Some had already
shot over our heads, sending showers of splinters on to us, and one
piece as big as one's fist had come rather closer than was pleasant.
On our left, the Glacier Carré kept up a regular fire of it, the ice
following with tremendous noise on to the rocks below. Every time it
gave us a start, as we could not always see at once where the fall had
taken place; and although the danger was more imaginary than real, it
is not pleasant to be constantly on the look-out, and flattening one's
self against the rocks to avoid being hit.
"We soon crossed the snowy part of the traverse, and were again in
front of the rock which had turned us back before. It looked no
better; but on going close up we found a small crack near the top,
just large enough to get our fingers into, giving excellent hold. By
this we swung ourselves up and across the worst part.
"We thought we had only two hours more easy descent, and our work
would be done. But we made a mistake.
"At first we went rapidly down, and were soon cheered by the sight of
M. Duhamel's cairn, looking about five minutes off. I was in front at
the time, and was just getting on to a short snow-slope by which we
had ascended the day before, when, doubting its safety, I asked the
others to hold fast whilst I tried it. The moment I put my foot on the
snow, all the top went away, slowly at first, then, taking to the
left, went down the couloir with a rush. We tried again where the
upper layer had gone away, but it was all unsafe; so we had to spend
half an hour getting down the rocks, where we had ascended in ten
minutes, and it was not until 2.30 that we reached the cairn.
"It was 3.30 before we continued the descent. The couloir was not in
good order and required care. Gardiner, who was in front, did not get
on as well as usual. At last, thinking we might get impatient, he
showed us his fingers, which were bleeding in several places, and
awfully raw and sore. He had pluckily kept it all to himself until
the real difficulties were over; but the snow of the couloir had
softened his hands, and these last rocks were weathered granite, and
very sharp and cutting; so he had to go very gingerly.
"At the bottom of the buttress a surprise awaited us, for as we
descended the last 20 feet, the weather-beaten face of old Lagier, our
porter, appeared above the rocks. The faithful old fellow said he had
traced our descent by the occasional flashing of the wine tin in the
sun, and had come alone to meet us, bringing us provisions as he
thought we might have run short. He had waited six hours for us, and
had iced the bottle of champagne which had been left on the ascent. We
opened it and then hurried down to the glacier, taking off the rope at
the moraine, and ran all the rest of the way on the snow to our
bivouac, like a lot of colts turned loose in a field, feeling it a
great relief to get on to something on which we could tumble about as
we liked without falling over a precipice."
That the Meije is a really difficult mountain may be assumed from the
fact that for some years after its first ascent, no party succeeded in
getting up and down it on the same day. When every step of the way
became well known, of course much quicker times were possible, and
when, on 16th September 1892, I went up it with the famous Dauphiné
guide, Maximin Gaspard, and Roman Imboden (the latter aged
twenty-three, and perhaps the finest rock climber in Switzerland), we
had all in our favour. There was neither ice nor snow on the rocks,
and no icicles hung from the Glacier Carré, while the weather was
still and cloudless. We slept at the bottom of the buttress--just at
the spot where Mr Pilkington met his porter--and from here were
exactly four hours (including a halt of one hour) reaching the top of
the Meije.
It is now the fashion to cross the Meije from La Bérarde to La Grave,
the descent on the other side being also extremely hard. For a couple
of hours after leaving the summit a narrow ridge is traversed with
several formidable gaps in it.
FOOTNOTE:
[9] The remains of this rope hung for years where Mr Pilkington had
placed it, and when I ascended the Meije I saw the bleached end of it
hanging over as sickening looking a place as I have ever desired to
avoid. The ordinary route passes more to the west.