Geneva.
We began pretty early in the morning to ascend Montanvert, from the top
of which, there is easy access to the Glacier of that name, and to the
valley of ice.
Our mules carried us from the inn across the valley, and even for a
considerable way up the mountain; which at length became so exceedingly
steep, that we were obliged to dismount and send them back, Mr. U——
only, who had been here before, and was accustomed to such expeditions,
continued without compunction on his mule till he got to the top, riding
fearless over rocks, which a goat or a chamois would have passed with
caution.
In this last animal, which is to be found on these mountains only, are
blended the different qualities of the goat and the deer.—It is said to
have more agility than any other quadruped possessed of the same degree
of strength.
After ascending four hours, we gained the summit of Montanvert. The day
was remarkably fine, the objects around noble and majestic, but in some
respects different from what I had expected.
The valley of Chamouni had disappeared:—Mount Breven seemed to have crept
wonderfully near; and if I had not just crossed the plain which separates
the two mountains, and is a mile in breadth, I should have concluded that
their bases were in contact, and that their distance above was solely
owing to the diminution in the size of all mountains towards the summit.
Judging from the eye alone, I should have thought it possible to have
thrown a stone from the place where I stood to Mount Breven.
There is a chain of mountains behind Montanvert, all covered with snow,
which terminate in four distinct rocks, of a great height, having the
appearance of narrow pyramids or spires. They are called the Needles; and
each has a distinct name.—Mont Blanc, surrounded by Montanvert, Mount
Breven, the Needles, and other snowy mountains, appears like a giant
among pygmies.
The height which we had now attained, was so far on our way up this
mountain. I was therefore equally surprised and mortified to find, after
an ascent of three thousand feet, that Mont Blanc seemed as high here as
when we were in the valley.
Having ascended Montanvert from Chamouni, on descending a little on the
other side, we found ourselves on a plain, whose appearance has been
aptly compared to that which a stormy sea would have, if it were suddenly
arrested and fixed by a strong frost. This is called the Valley of Ice.
It stretches several leagues behind Montanvert, and is reckoned 2300 feet
higher than the valley of Chamouni.
From the highest part of Montanvert we had all the following objects
under our eye, some of which seemed to obstruct the view of others
equally interesting;—the Valley of Ice, the Needles, Mont Blanc, with the
snowy mountains below, finely contrasted with Breven, and the green hills
on the opposite side of Chamouni, and the sun in full splendor showing
all of them to the greatest advantage.—The whole forms a scene equally
sublime and beautiful, far above my power of description, and worthy
of the eloquence of that very ingenious gentleman, who has so finely
illustrated these subjects, in a particular treatise, and given so many
examples of both in his parliamentary speeches.
While we remained in contemplation of this scene, some of the company
observed, that from the top of one of the Needles the prospect would be
still more magnificent, as the eye could stretch over Breven, beyond
Geneva, all the way to Mount Jura, and comprehend the Pays de Vallais,
and many other mountains and vallies.
This excited the ambition of the D—— of H——. He sprung up, and made
towards the Aiguille du Dru, which is the highest of the four Needles.
Though he bounded over the ice with the elasticity of a young chamois,
it was a considerable time before he could arrive at the foot of the
Needle:—for people are greatly deceived as to distances, in those snowy
regions.
Should he get near the top, said Mr. G——, looking after him with
eagerness, he will swear we have seen nothing—But I will try to mount as
high as he can;—I am not fond of seeing people above me. So saying, he
sprung after him.
In a short time we saw them both scrambling up the rock:—The D—— had
gained a considerable height, when he was suddenly stopped by a part
of the rock which was perfectly impracticable (for his impetuosity had
prevented him from choosing the easiest way); so Mr. G—— overtook him.
Here they had time to breathe and cool a little. The one being determined
not to be surpassed, the other thought the exploit not worth his while,
since the honour must be divided. So like two rival powers, who have
exhausted their strength by a fruitless contest, they returned, fatigued
and disappointed, to the place from which they had set out.
After a very agreeable repast, on the provisions and wine which our
guides had brought from the Prieuré, we passed, by an easy descent,
from the green part of Montanvert to the Valley of Ice. A walk upon
this frozen sea is attended with inconveniencies. In some places, the
swellings, which have been compared to waves, are forty or fifty feet
high: yet, as they are rough, and the ice intermingled with snow, one may
walk over them. In other parts, those waves are of a very moderate size,
and in some places the surface is quite level.
What renders a passage over this valley still more difficult and
dangerous is, the rents in the ice, which are to be met with, whatever
direction you follow. These rents are from two to six feet wide, and of
an amazing depth; reaching from the surface of the valley, through a body
of ice many hundred fathoms thick. On throwing down a stone, or any other
solid substance, we could hear the hollow murmur of its descent for a
very long time, sounding like far distant waves breaking upon rocks.
Our guides, emboldened by habit, skipped over these rents without any
sign of fear, though they informed us, that they had often seen fresh
clefts formed, while they walked on the valley. They added, indeed, for
our encouragement, that this was always preceded by a loud continued
noise, which gave warning of what was to happen.
It is evident, however, that this warning, though it should always
precede the rent, could be of little use to those who had advanced to
the middle of the valley; for they neither could know certainly in what
direction to run, nor could they have time to get off: and in case
the ice should yawn directly under their feet, they must inevitably
perish.—But probably few accidents of that kind happen; and this has
greater influence, than any reasoning upon the subject.
It is supposed, that the snow and ice at the bottom melting by the
warmth of the earth, leave great vacancies, in the form of vaults. These
natural arches support for a long time an amazing weight of ice and
snow;—for there is a vast distance from the bottom to the surface of this
valley.—But the ice beneath continuing to dissolve, and the snow above to
increase, the arches must at last give way, which occasions the noise
and rents above mentioned. Water, also, which may have fallen from the
surface into the clefts, or is lodged by any means in this great mass of
snow, will, by its sudden expansion in the act of freezing, occasion new
rents at the surface.
We had heard a great deal of the havoc made by avalanches. These
are formed of snow driven by the winds against the highest and most
protuberant parts of rocks and mountains, where it hardens and adheres
sometimes till a prodigious mass is accumulated. But when these
supporters are able to sustain the increasing weight no longer, the
avalanche falls at once, hurrying large portions of the loosened rock or
mountain along with it;—and rolling from a vast height, with a thundering
noise, to the valley, involves in certain destruction all the trees,
houses, cattle, and men, which lie in its way[2].
The greater part of those who have made a journey to the Glaciers have
seen one or more of these avalanches in the very act of falling, and have
themselves always escaped by miracle.—Just as most people who have made a
single voyage by sea, if it were only between Dover and Calais, have met
with a storm, and very narrowly escaped shipwreck.
All that any of our party can boast is, that during the nights we lay at
Chamouni, we frequently heard a noise like distant thunder, which we were
told was occasioned by the falling of some of these same avalanches at
a few miles distance. And during our excursions, we saw trees destroyed,
and tracts of soil torn from the sides of the mountains, over which the
avalanches were said to have rolled, two or three years before we passed.
These were the narrowest escapes we made.—I heartily wish the same good
luck to all travellers, whatever account they themselves may choose to
give to their friends, when they return.
The Valley of Ice is several leagues in length, and not above a quarter
of a league in breadth. It divides into branches, which run behind the
chain of mountains formerly taken notice of. It appears like a frozen
amphitheatre, and is bounded by mountains, in whose clefts columns of
crystal, as we were informed, are to be found.—The hoary majesty of Mont
Blanc … I was in danger of rising into poetry, when recollecting the
story of Icarus, I thought it best not to trust to my own waxen wings.—I
beg leave rather to borrow the following lines, which will please you
better than any flight of mine, and prevent me from a fall:
So Zembla’s rocks (the beauteous work of frost)
Rise white in air, and glitter o’er the coast,
Pale suns, unfelt, at distance roll away,
And on th’ impassive ice the lightnings play;
Eternal snows the growing mass supply,
Fill the bright mountains, prop th’ incumbent sky;
As Atlas fix’d, each hoary pile appears,
The gather’d winter of a thousand years.
Having walked a considerable time on the valley, and being sufficiently
regaled with ice, we at length thought of returning to our cottage at
Prieuré. Our guides led us down by a shorter and deeper way than that
by which we had ascended; and in about two hours after we had begun our
descent, we found ourselves at the bottom of the mountain. This rapid
manner of descending, most people find more severe upon the muscles
of the legs and thighs, than even the ascent. For my own part, I was
very near exhausted; and as we were still a couple of miles distant
from our lodgings, it was with the greatest satisfaction that I saw our
obsequious mules in waiting to carry us to our cottage; where having at
last arrived, and being assembled in a small room, excluded from the
view of icy valleys, crystal hills, and snowy mountains, with nothing
before us but humble objects, as cold meat, coarse bread, and poor
wine, we contrived to pass an hour before going to bed, in talking over
the exploits of the day, and the wonders we had seen.—Whether there is
greater pleasure in this, or in viewing the scenes themselves, is a
question not yet decided by the casuists.
[2]
Ac veluti montis Saxum de vertice præceps
Cum ruit avulsum vento, seu turbidus imber
Proluit, aut annis solvit sublapsa vetustas:
Fertur in abruptum magno mons improbus actu,
Exultatque solo, silvas, armenta, virosque
Involvens secum.