Project Gutenberg's An Impromptu Ascent of Mont Blanc, by W. H. Le Mesurier This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: An Impromptu Ascent of Mont Blanc Author: W. H. Le Mesurier Release Date: July 9, 2010 [EBook #33122] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN IMPROMPTU ASCENT OF MONT BLANC *** Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) VILLAGE OF CHAMONIX. VILLAGE OF CHAMONIX. 1 Summit of Mont Blanc. 2 Bosses du Dromadaire. 3 Dôme du Goûté. 4 Aiguille du Goûté. 5 Grands Mulets. 6 Glacier des Bossons. 7 Montagne de la Côte. 8 Glacier de Taconnaz. AN IMPROMPTU ASCENT OF MONT BLANC: BY W. H. LE MESURIER. LONDON: ELLIOT STOCK, PUBLISHER, 62 PATERNOSTER ROW. BIRKENHEAD: E. GRIFFITH & SON, HAMILTON STREET. 1882. BIRKENHEAD: E. Griffith & Son, Printers, "Caxton" Works, Hamilton Street PREFACE The interest which still follows individual ascents of Mont Blanc, notwithstanding the attraction of other mountain peaks, must be my apology for once again repeating an oft-told tale; but with this endeavour, to make the narrative a true and unvarnished account of what we did and how we did it, and to present the accompanying illustrations (which, for the most part, are taken from photographs) free from exaggeration. T [Pg v] CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Evening at Chamonix—Excursion to the Brévent—View of the Mont Blanc chain. CHAPTER II. Commencement of the ascent—Pierre Pointue—Crossing the Glacier des Bossons—An awkward bit—"Cabane" on the Grands Mulets. CHAPTER III. View from the Grands Mulets—A foreign invasion—Trying to sleep—Preparation for a night march. CHAPTER IV. The start at midnight—Ascending the Montées—Arrival at the Petit Plateau—An attempt at breakfast on the Grand Plateau—The expedition jeopardised through mountain sickness—Churlish "foreigners"—The ascent resumed— Repose on the Rochers des Bosses—Climbing the Mauvaise Arête—The final assault—The goal reached. CHAPTER V. Descending the "back bone"—Approach of clouds—An unfortunate slip—Floundering in the snow—In danger—An awkward descent—In and out of the snow—The "Cabane" at last—Delicious repose—The journey resumed—Re- crossing the Glacier—A thunderstorm in the Forest des Pélerins—Welcome back. CHAPTER VI. A few words on our complexions—Certificates procured—Ladies' preparation for an attempt—Nipped in the bud— Concluding remarks. APPENDIX. A brief account of some of the most noted ascents—Routes to Chamonix from the Lake of Geneva. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. The Valley of Chamonix Mont Blanc from the Brévent, shewing the Route The Glacier des Bossons The "Cabane" on the Grands Mulets Mont Blanc from the Col de Balme Coming down the Glacier des Bossons Diagram shewing the relative heights of Mont Blanc and Snowdon [Pg vi] [Pg vii] Page Frontispiece. 13 18 26 42 50 56 Map of Routes to Chamonix CHAPTER I. "And thou, fresh breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains, Why are ye beautiful?" On a delightful evening in the month of July, 1881, table d'hôte being over, my friend S—— and myself were seated under the verandah of the hotel d'Angleterre at Chamonix; there were many others besides ourselves, chiefly English and Americans, grouped in parties, some taking their coffee, others smoking, and all devoting their attention to the summit of Mont Blanc whose diadem of snow was being warmed in colour if not in reality by the last rays of the setting sun. Though seven miles off as the crow flies it seemed much nearer, and it was hard to realize that some twelve or fourteen hours of incessant toil must be undergone before the foot could be planted on that rounded crest of eternal snow, that guide and porter must be employed, and that ropes and ice-axes must be brought into requisition before those apparently gently-sloping hills of pure white down could be traversed. They looked so smooth, so inviting, and so incapable of doing any one harm. The summit changed from gold to grey, the dome and Aiguille du Goûté faded from view, the Grands Mulets were no longer to be seen, and the form of the Glacier des Bossons could scarcely be distinguished from the Montagne de la Côte. Gradually and imperceptibly they vanished into night, the stars came out, the guests retired, and following their example I climbed up to my room on the sixth floor. We had left Martigny at four in the morning, and had walked most of the way to Forclaz, and the whole of it from thence over the Col de Balme, so I was not sorry to get to bed. Not having the remotest intention of making the ascent my slumbers were undisturbed by the excitement which they say invariably precedes the undertaking, from which even professionals are said not to be exempt. On getting up next morning I was very agreeably surprised to find that the sun was shining brightly on the summit which was entirely free from clouds—a somewhat unusual circumstance, as lofty mountain peaks more often than otherwise are enveloped in them, especially in the morning. Feeling lazy and somewhat stiff after our long walk of the previous day, we loitered about till nearly twelve o'clock, and then decided upon taking advantage of the splendid weather by making an excursion to the Brévent, a mountain on the north side of the valley, from which the view of the Mont Blanc chain is one of the finest in the neighbourhood. A mule was hired with a boy to attend it, and a stout muscular young guide named François Ravanel was employed—not that there was any need of his good services, but the rules and regulations of the "Bureau des Guides" must be complied with, and one of these stipulates that a guide must in all cases accompany a mule. After crawling upwards for a couple of hours, we arrived at a newly erected hut, where refreshment was provided, and here the remainder of the afternoon was devoted to the inspection of the magnificent scenery which surrounded us on every side. The Valley of Chamonix lies nearly east and west, and is so narrow that it might almost be termed a ravine. It is rather more than ten miles long and less than half a mile in width. The mountains of the Mont Blanc range on the south, and those of the Brévent, on the north, rise abruptly on either side, their bases being covered with thick forests of pine for some two thousand feet above the valley. On the south side countless "aiguilles" pierce the sky, from le Tour on the east to the Aiguille du Goûté on the west. These graceful spires are of warm tinted rock, and here and there streaks of snow are to be seen in the crevices and gullies which are shaded from the sun. Several large glaciers descend from the northern slopes of the Mont Blanc chain, the first at the east or upper end being the Glacier du Tour; the next is the Glacier d'Argentière, which is the largest of them all, being no less than seven miles long between its upper and lower extremities and about a mile wide for two- thirds of its length, at which point it tapers off—as all glaciers do on approaching the valley. Three miles further to the west is the Glacier des Bois, the termination of the famous Mer de Glace. Between it and the village of Chamonix there are two or three unimportant glaciers which do not quite reach the forest. The Glaciers des Bossons and Taconnaz complete the list, the latter being ten miles from the Glacier du Tour. 72 [Pg 9] O [Pg 10] [Pg 11] [Pg 12] These gigantic streams of ice, hundreds of feet thick, are formed in the upper regions of the mountains, and slowly and with irresistible force slide down towards the valley, moving at a rate which varies according to the season and other circumstances, but which seldom exceeds three feet per day. They do not, however, quite reach the foot of the mountain, for, as the temperature is excessively hot during the summer months, the ice thaws rapidly, and the water thus formed rushes out in a roaring torrent through a tunnel-like hole at the extremity or "Snout." VIEW OF MONT BLANC FROM THE BRÉVENT. VIEW OF MONT BLANC FROM THE BRÉVENT. 1 Forest des Pélerins. 2 Pierre Pontue. 3 Glacier des Bossons. 4 Grands Mulets. 5 Petit Plateau. 6 Grand Plateau. 7 Bosses du Dromadaire. 8 Summit of Mont Blanc. A Aiguille du Midi. B Mont Blanc du Tacul. C Mont Maudit. D Dôme du Goûté. E Aiguille du Goûté. F Montagne de la Côte. G Glacier de Taconnaz. H Montagne de la Côte. Note.—The route to the Summit is indicated by the dotted line. These torrents flow into the Arve, which in summer time roars along the valley, leaping wildly over a bed of rocks and boulders in its headlong course to mingle with the waters of the Rhone at Geneva. The view of Mont Blanc from this spot was magnificent. His snow-capped head, glistening against a cloudless sky, formed the centre of the picture. Slightly on his left, and a little lower, was the Mont Maudit, separated by a thin line from the Mont Blanc du Tacul, and below the rocky base of the former several dark-looking pointed specks could be seen on the snow, the lower being the Grands-Mulets rocks, the upper the Aiguilles à Pichner. Lower yet are the Glaciers des Bossons and Taconnaz, on either side of the Montagne de la Côte, their delicately green tinted surfaces becoming more rugged and sparkling as they neared the valley. Apparently within rifle range the Aiguille du Midi raised its mitred summit 12,600 feet above the sea, the precipitous naked rock contrasting with the snow which here and there found lodgment, or lay in detached fields some 5,000 feet above the valley. On the right of the "Monarch of the Mountains" the Dôme and Aiguille du Goûté with their silver robes completed the scene. On our way down the following arrangements were made for the next day's excursion:—We were to visit the Grands Mulets, and in order to be back for dinner were to start at six in the morning. A porter was to be engaged, not to carry us or our belongings, but to act as the rear-guard when the rope was used in dangerous places, and François undertook to find a suitable man for that purpose. A mule was to be hired, François remarking "you shall have the same mule and the same boy you had to-day; you know them both." [Pg 13] [Pg 14] CHAPTER II. "Around his waist are forests braced, The Avalanche in his hand." "Friend! have a care, Your next step may be fatal!—for the love Of Him who made you, stand not on that brink!" The day broke bright and clear, and at six we were introduced by François to his friend, Jules Tairraz, who looked very business-like with a knapsack on his back and carrying an ice-axe and a coil of rope. The mule having overslept himself, we went on without him, and awaited his arrival under the trees at the foot of the mountain. At last the lazy brute hove in sight, walking in his usual style; then our coats, the knapsack, rope, etc., were strapped on, and by way of adding to his comfort I got into the saddle, and thus the ascent was begun. The route lay through the forest des Pélerins, and for some distance ran parallel with the Arve, crossing the torrents which flow into that river, over picturesque wooden bridges. Then, on approaching the lower extremity of the Glacier des Bossons, it wound to the left and zig-zagged up the base of the mountain. As we ascended the steep and narrow track an occasional gap in the trees afforded a sight of the glacier and enabled us to perceive that substantial progress was being made. The first stage of mountain climbing in these parts is decidedly tiresome; the forest is so thick one can see little else besides, and there is a monotony in the operation that would be unendurable were it not for the end in view. The trees at length became more scarce and stunted, and after two hours of this unexciting work they disappeared altogether; Pierre Pointue was reached, and the first stage of our journey was thus accomplished. Here we breakfasted. I spent some time in sketching this spot with its unassuming little buildings, and the Aiguille du Goûté in the back ground. We then moved on without the mule and boy, and worked our way round the face of the mountain, the rock being perpendicular to the left, and on our right a precipice, but the track was sufficiently wide to enable us to walk in comfort and without experiencing any of those feelings of nervousness which Albert Smith felt when passing over the same ground thirty years ago. Three quarters of an hour after leaving Pierre Pointue, we reached Pierre à l'Echelle, against whose side was reared a strong ladder which is kept for use when the crevasses are too wide to be crossed without its assistance. Its services were not, however, required on this occasion. Before introducing my readers to the Glacier des Bossons, which we were about to traverse, I may remark that opinions differ widely as to the difficulties and dangers of the undertaking. Some make very light of them, while others lead one to suppose that nothing short of cat-like agility, combined with heroic courage, could surmount the obstacles. The fact is, that leaving out of consideration experience, nerve, and surefootedness, the crossing of the Glacier may be comparatively easy one day, and beset with dangers another, the difficulties varying with the state of the ice, which is constantly changing. New crevasses are being formed, and those already in existence alter from day to day, so that great skill is required on the part of the guides to select a feasible route. Then, again, a snow bridge, consisting of a mere lump of snow jammed into the upper part of a wide crevasse, may bear one's weight or not according to a variety of circumstances, so after making due allowance for the disparagement of difficulties on the one hand, and the exaggeration of them on the other, it may fairly be said that walking over the Bossons is not exactly child's play. [Pg 15] T [Pg 16] [Pg 17] [Pg 18] At about eleven o'clock we stepped on the ice and were agreeably surprised to find that there was no tendency to slip, our boots having been well studded with nails before starting, and as yet the points had not become rounded through wear. For the first half hour walking was fairly easy, the surface, though irregular, being in no way difficult. After this we reached a queer-looking place, where the ice was split up with yawning crevasses whose edges twisted and turned in the most extraordinary way. Here there was a bit of climbing in which both hands and feet had to take their part. François helped S——, Jules helped me, and we each helped the other until all were safely across; and then turning to look at the gulf we had just passed we noticed that the face of the ice (not the surface) was exquisitely tinted with the most delicate green and blue, deepening into azure until it was lost in the abyss. Between this spot and the junction of the Glaciers des Bossons and Taconnaz, the ice was tolerably regular, and being free from snow there were no unseen crevasses to be guarded against; until we reached the "junction," where these mighty Glaciers part company. They seem to part in anger, for here the ice is in a frightful state of confusion, with the "seracs" (ice-bergs) heaped about in all directions, and with fathomless crevasses on every side. GLACIER DES BOSSONS. GLACIER DES BOSSONS. A halt was called, and François uncoiled the rope which he measured out, forming a loop at every twelve feet or thereabouts; we were tied round the chest, and having been cautioned to keep our distances, and on no account to let the cord be slack, we proceeded on our way very slowly, and with the greatest care. This was by far the most trying part of the Glacier, and just before quitting this chaos our nerves were put to a severe test, for the only method of advance was over a ridge of ice about a foot wide, twisting about, and having a very irregular surface. François went first and cut some rude steps with his ice-axe, then we walked after him at a snail's pace, at one moment seeking for a good foot-hold, and the next looking into the crevasses on either side, the azure blue of which was more beautiful than ever. We crossed without a slip, and François remarked, "the most difficult part of the ascent to the summit has now been accomplished." This observation, however, was not borne out by the facts which shall be narrated in due course; but small blame to him, poor fellow! He was a young guide, having only just passed his examination and obtained his certificate, consequently he was naturally anxious to lead a party to the top; besides this there was another motive, his fee would be increased five-fold, twenty francs being the regulation charge to the Grands Mulets, a hundred to the summit. For the next half hour or so numerous crevasses barred the way; when they did not exceed four feet or a little more we jumped across, and although we soon became accustomed to the work it was not always an easy operation, for putting aside the ugly look of the chasm, the foot-hold not being secure, it was a somewhat difficult matter to spring from the slippery brink of ice on which we stood. Sometimes we crossed over a snow-bridge but a few feet wide, François first prodding it with the handle of his axe; then, being satisfied that it would bear, he stepped forward, while we stood on the alert to save him from an untimely death should the snow give way. The difficulties lessened as we advanced, and, our attention not being constantly directed to our footsteps, we were enabled to look about us a little more. The dark-coloured Grands Mulets, no longer insignificant but rising some hundreds of feet above the snow, their wedge-like forms leaning well forward, seemed to defy the mighty downward pressure of avalanche and ice. The colour of the sky was of the deepest blue, almost indigo, the intensity of which far exceeded anything we had ever seen, or could have imagined possible, and it was not until we had been in the "Cabane" on the Grands Mulets for some time that we discovered that the sky is the same here as in any ordinary atmosphere at a lower level. The cause of the deception is easily explained; our eyes had been rivetted on ice and shining snow for several hours, consequently the colour appeared deeper by contrast. At length we quitted the Glacier, and the remainder of the journey was on slopes of snow. In some respects it was pleasanter than before; there was a nice soft feeling about it, there was no fear of slipping, and no particular care had to be exercised. On the other hand the work was more fatiguing, and worst of all [Pg 19] [Pg 20] [Pg 21] our boots were getting wet through. The base of the Grands Mulets was nearly reached when our arrival was announced by Jules, who gave a genuine Alpine shout which was answered from the "Cabane," and, having clambered up the rocks, at 1.30 we entered the little hut. Prior to Albert Smith's ascent there was no refuge of any kind in this wild and exposed situation. But as the number of excursionists spending a night on the rocks to see the glories of sunset and sunrise was on the increase, a rude hut fourteen feet long by seven wide was erected by the guides in 1854. The walls were formed of flat blocks and splinters of the rock, and the roof was of boards. The existing "Cabane" is somewhat larger. It is divided into three compartments, two of which are furnished with a couple of beds covered with coarse rugs, a deal table and two stools. The other room is fitted with a small cooking- stove, and is used by the man and woman in charge, and by passing guides and porters. On the north side there is a narrow walk about a yard in width protected by a hand-rail, and on the west a short sloping path leading to the snow. Hence it is plain that the life of those who dwell on this barren rock during the season is not unlike that of lighthouse keepers. True it is that they may stretch their legs on the snow, but the only out of door exercise they can take in comfort is the narrow walk, some forty or fifty feet in length, referred to. Supplies are as a matter of course brought to this isolated place with difficulty and at considerable expense, consequently the prices charged, though high, are not exorbitant, more especially as the proprietor pays a large sum to the Commune for his license. Luncheon was just over when a foreigner, accompanied by two guides and a porter, joined us in the hut. He was on his way back to Chamonix, having successfully made the ascent. There was an air of joy in his countenance, and satisfaction in his every movement, and we fondly hoped to be in the same happy frame of mind at the expiration of twenty-four hours or so. Having rested for a while, he with his party quitted the "Cabane," and, roped together, crept down the rocks. Just as they reached the snow I shouted to the guide, "Will you have the kindness to tell them at the hotel d'Angleterre that we mean to go to the top?" "Very well, sir, I shall not forget." Then leaning over the post and rail-fence, we watched them going down the slopes till they disappeared from view among the "seracs." CHAPTER III. "The world is all before me; I but ask Of Nature that with which she will comply— It is but with her summer's sun to bask, To mingle in the quiet of her sky, To see her gentle face without a mask, And never gaze on it with apathy." Then we were left alone. "All heaven and earth are still, though not in sleep." The sun shone brightly on the pure white snow by which we were surrounded; the air was motionless, and not a sound disturbed the stillness of that memorable afternoon. At our feet lay the Glacier des Bossons. "Heaven-descended in its origin, it yet takes its mould and conformation from the hidden womb of the mountain which brought it forth. At first soft and ductile, it acquires a character and firmness of its own, as an inevitable destiny urges it on its onward career. Jostled and constrained by the crosses and irregularities of its prescribed path, hedged in by impassable barriers which fix limits to its movements, it yields groaning to its fate, and still travels forward seamed with the scars of many a conflict of opposing obstacles. All this while, though wasting, it is renewed by an unseen power,—it evaporates, but is not consumed. "On its surface it bears the spoils which, during the progress of its existence, it has made its own; often weighty burdens [Pg 22] [Pg 23] [Pg 24] T [Pg 25] devoid of beauty or value, at times precious masses, sparkling with gems or ore. Having at length attained its greatest width and extension, commanding admiration by its beauty and power, waste predominates over supply, the vital springs begin to fail; it stoops into an attitude of decrepitude—it drops the burdens one by one it had borne so proudly aloft—its dissolution is inevitable. But as it is resolved into its elements, it takes all at once a new, and livelier, and disembarrassed form; from the wreck of its members it arises 'another, yet the same'—a noble, full-bodied, arrowy stream, which leaps rejoicing over the obstacles which had stayed its progress, and hastens through fertile valleys towards a freer existence, and a final union in the ocean with the boundless and the infinite." Northward on the opposite side of the valley rose the Brévent. The buttress up which we had ridden the day before seemed quite vertical and inaccessible from this point of view. The pine forest clothing its base resembled turf, while the zig-zag paths above appeared as fine yellow threads. Turning towards the west, vast fields of sloping snow formed the foreground, and towering above them rose the imposing Dôme du Goûté, relieved here and there by dark-coloured patches of rock; further to the left the base of the Aiguille à Pichner, the upper of the two little specks we had noticed at Chamonix and from the Brévent. Time passed rapidly; what with sketching, discussing the prospects of a successful ascent (concerning which our fellows had not the slightest misgiving, although we had two guides less than the regulation number), perusing the traveller's book, looking at the scenery, and basking in the sun, we had a most delightful time of it. At five we sat down to a plain dinner, although it consisted of several courses; and having indulged in our usual smoke, we lay down to rest during the few hours which remained before our re-commencing the ascent. Although it was rather early for sleep we might have done something in that direction had not our attempts been rudely interfered with. When we lay down all was still as death, and remained so for a time; then there was a terrific noise of stones rattling against the wooden walls of the hut. The cause of all this was that an addition to the building is about to be made, and the levelling of the rock for its reception is done by the men who bring up the materials from Pierre Pointue, and the only time they give to it is before retiring at night. What muscles these fellows must have! They had crossed the Glacier twice that day with heavy loads of wood on their backs, and not contented they must needs set to work at sunset to the discomfort of those who, like good children, had gone to bed at an early hour. At length this diabolical noise ceased, and we again courted sleep, and were on the verge of attaining it when voices were heard outside followed by a thundering kick at the door, which was opened by the inconsiderate fellow who had bestowed it, and who, on perceiving that the beds were occupied, uttered a "Pardon, Messieurs," and slamming it disappeared. But this was not the last of him and his friend, who, occupying the next room to ours, made as much noise as if they were doing it by contract. The partition being thin I heard nearly every word they said, and was somewhat amused and very disgusted at the following dialogue which was carried on in French between one of the tourists and a guide. Aiguille à Pichner. Dôme du Goûté. Aiguille à Pichner. Dôme du Goûté. "CABANE" ON THE GRANDS MULETS. "What are the regulations as to the payment of your expenses here?" "There are no regulations, sir; you are not obliged to pay for us; but as a fact we have never paid; our employers have invariably done so." "Oh, very well, we don't object, only we think that if you let it be understood that you would have to pay, they would probably charge somewhat less!" Exit guide. To this interesting conversation succeeded the clattering of knives and forks; later on subdued talking, which ended finally in regular and prolonged snores. These interruptions effectually drove sleep away, coax it as we would. With closed eyes and in a half dreamy state I saw the "seracs" and crevasses, and passed over the ground we had traversed in the morning. Then regaining the full possession of my faculties, I asked myself if I was not bent on taking part in an [Pg 26] [Pg 27] [Pg 28] idiotic action by starting in the middle of the night to clamber up some thousands of feet of snow and ice. Should I be repaid for the trouble and discomfort? Most likely there would be clouds or mist to hide the scenery, and even if there were not, would the game be worth the candle? Would not my friends say, "Very wrong, and very foolish, too; you ought to have known better?" Inclination tried hard to make me change my resolve, but was beaten in the attempt; and I am glad of it, for I was repaid, and amply, too. Later on, in the perfect stillness of that calm night, I heard a loud rattling report caused by the falling of a mighty avalanche. It was now ten o'clock; rolling restlessly about, I waited for the knock which was to summon us at a quarter to twelve. At last it came; a shuffling of feet was heard which approached nearer and nearer, then the signal was given, and in a few minutes we were ready for François to put on our half dried and dreadfully stiff boots (despite the grease) and to tie on the gaiters. I ate some bread and cheese, and drank a glass of water, but S—— took nothing. My flask was filled with brandy; some provisions, two bottles of Bordeaux, and one of Champagne, were stowed away in Jules' knapsack, and we each took a packet of raisins, prunes, and chocolate, which we were assured would be very acceptable later on. As to our clothing, S—— had on an alpaca coat and knickerbockers, whilst I wore an ordinary light summer suit. We were unprovided with top coats, wrappers, and had no gloves. S—— had bought a pair of coloured spectacles some day previously, but, having nothing of the kind, I was fortunate in being able to procure a pair of goggles at the Grands Mulets, without which I could not have made the ascent, as the glare of the snow would in all probability have produced snow blindness. We were now at an elevation of 10,000 feet, the goal we hoped to reach at six or seven in the morning was 15,780 feet above the sea, consequently the portion yet to be ascended was no less than 5,780 feet, or nearly twice the height of Snowdon. Midway between the Grands Mulets and the summit is the Grand Plateau, and to reach it three gigantic snow-slopes or steps, each some 900 feet high, have to be surmounted, then the remaining portion of the journey is over the Bosses du Dromadaire, the Mauvaise Arête, and the final slope. CHAPTER IV. "The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains.—Beautiful!" Our modest preparations being now completed, the rope was stretched along the narrow path, loops were made, and we were tied in the following order—François, S——, myself, then Jules. All being ready, François moved forward with a lantern, and in a couple of minutes we were fairly on the snow. All thoughts of difficulties, dangers, and what our friends would say, were left in the "Cabane," and our sole attention was devoted to the breasting of the gigantic slopes which are called Les Montées. The night was fine but dark, the moon not having risen yet. Onwards and upwards we went in silence, and with slow and measured tread, keeping at distances of about twelve feet apart. We had not proceeded very far before we came to a dead stop, and on enquiring of S—— what it meant, he replied that François' nose was bleeding. This is one of the many inconveniences to which one is liable at these altitudes. On looking back we saw a light advancing, and as it came nearer and nearer we made out the figures of a party of six men crawling slowly in our direction. They were the noisy foreigners who had not added to our comfort in the "Cabane." On drawing near a great deal of talk went on between [Pg 29] [Pg 30] [Pg 31] O [Pg 32] their guides and ours in patois. Then they went ahead, and, François having recovered, we followed them closely, as soon as the route—concerning which there appeared to be some doubt—had been agreed upon. The work was tiresome, with nothing to look at besides the snow under our feet, and no excitement of any description, not even the jumping of a crevasse. To add to the monotony, talking was prohibited, for, having made some remarks to Jules as we went along, I was advised by him not to speak; and no doubt he was right, as a certain amount of exertion was necessary to carry on a conversation, separated as we were by an interval of several yards. This portion of the journey was decidedly uphill work, figuratively as well as literally. At about two o'clock the moon appeared above the tops of the mountains, and although it had just entered the last quarter, it afforded sufficient light to enable François to dispense with the lantern, which he left on the snow; on several occasions we stopped a considerable time while mounting the steep slopes, without any apparent reason. At last, becoming quite impatient, I asked S—— to pass the word to François to get ahead of the "foreigners." He preferred, however, to follow in their path, thinking that the track must be rather more easy by being beaten down. Although so thinly clad I did not suffer in the least from cold, except in my feet, which was not to be wondered at, considering that my socks were cotton, and that my boots, damp at starting, were now wet through. On nearing the Petit Plateau we went up a slope which was nearly perpendicular. It was not snow, for that substance could not have stood at so steep an angle; and it was not hard ice, but névé—its consistence was much the same as that of an ice pudding; by giving a smart kick the foot entered sufficiently to afford a good hold. It was really very steep, and at the same time a particularly easy bit of climbing; but, had we been photographed, the uninitiated would have marvelled at our daring. After this we walked on the level for a short distance, and arrived in full sight of the Petit Plateau before reaching which we we went along some very narrow ridges of ice with deep crevasses on either side, then up some snow slopes, at the top of which we stood on the Plateau. This we crossed at as rapid a pace as circumstances permitted on account of the danger of falling avalanches that beset this spot. The guides will have it that the slightest disturbance of the atmosphere, such as can be created by the human voice, is sufficient to cause a disaster; and as it is always as well to practice obedience, we proceeded on our way without uttering a word. So far I had not experienced any difficulty of breathing, nor had I suffered from thirst; but soon after quitting the Grands Mulets I felt a dryness in the mouth and throat, and then I tried the effects of a raisin; but not being satisfied with the result, took a prune, and, discarding the fruit, rolled the stone in my mouth, from which process I derived great benefit. Plodding steadily upwards, we asked from time to time whether we were not yet half way? "No, sir; not till we arrive at the Grand Plateau, and it is some distance off yet." How we longed for day-light, that the monotony of this night excursion might be broken by the sight of the grand scenery which, though surrounding, was almost invisible to us! Before the Grand Plateau was reached we stopped for refreshment. We had been tramping for nearly four hours, and it was needed. The knapsack was opened, and a bottle of wine produced, but what about the corkscrew? Left behind of course! So François volunteered to operate with his ice-axe, but as he was far less expert in decapitating a bottle than in hewing steps, a considerable portion of the contents was lost. It was not long before we resumed our march, and having nearly traversed the Grand Plateau another halt was made, and this time we meant to eat as well as drink. Not feeling hungry I was told by our fellows that no one had much appetite up here. Then the remaining bottle of claret was uncorked with care, and after we had partaken of its contents sparingly, it was deposited in the snow for our return. Much as we should have liked to sit down and rest we could not do so, for reposing on a bed of snow was not to be thought of. Resuming our journey we soon came up with and passed the other party who were grouped together apparently engaged in our late occupation. Dawn now began to break, and stopping for a few minutes at the foot of a long and regular incline I said to S—— "Well, have have you had enough of it?" To my inexpressible surprise, he answered "Yes, I feel so ill that I do not think I shall be able to go on, and the summit seems as far off as ever." It was now broad day-light, and we were little more than half-way. "Oh! come on, women have done it, and why should not we?" "I am ill, and your talking in that way only makes me worse." Then I called François, who made light of it, remarking that feelings of sickness are often experienced in this locality; the flask was produced, and we took a little nip all round, and went on. After going a short distance, S—— said, "I feel dreadfully ill, I never felt so bad in my life, it is impossible for me to go on. I could not reach the Plateau for £10,000. Go on, and I will find my way back to the Grands Mulets, somehow." "That's out of the question; you can't get there alone, and as there is no help for it, we must all go back." Then I told François, and the poor fellow's countenance at once fell below zero. This was his first ascent as guide, although he had accompanied other parties as porter on eleven previous occasions. Matters certainly looked gloomy at this moment. S—— not only appeared the picture of misery, but was undoubtedly very ill—suffering, in fact, from mountain sickness; he complained of internal cold and shivered all over, besides experiencing other sensations which are best described in his own words,—"It seemed as though all power had departed from my limbs, my eyes were dim and incapable of vision, and I more than once put my hand to them and my ears and mouth to make sure that blood was not spurting forth." [Pg 33] [Pg 34] [Pg 35] [Pg 36] Feeling averse to beat a hasty retreat after all the toil that had been undergone, and when the end was so comparatively near, and hoping against hope that S—— might yet be able to reach the summit, we tried to make him as comfortable as possible. A seat was made on the snow with alpenstocks and ice-axe handles, and Jules goodnaturedly took off his jacket, in which he wrapped the invalid. It was near this very spot that Sir Thomas Talfourd's expedition was forced to return through the same cause in 1843. At this time the other party came in sight, crawling slowly up the slope of snow, walking in single file, and roped together. On moving past us and noticing that there was something amiss, one of the guides observed to me: "You are all right, or you would not be able to smoke." They then discovered that we were going back, and the same fellow who had just spoken to me said, "Do you wish to make the ascent, sir?" "Of course I do; that is why I am here." "Then untie yourself and fasten on to our line, and come on." "Yes, with pleasure, if your employers are willing." Whispering was carried on, and, after some conversation in patois, François announced that they were not willing. Then S—— rose up, quietly remarking: "We had better get on." "You can't do it, man; you are far too ill." "I will, if I die for it!" Without further talk we made a fresh start up this interminable slope. The indignation S—— felt at the churlish behaviour of the "foreigners" completely restored him, the effect produced being the same as intense excitement on those who are suffering from mal-de-mer. I pictured to myself the fun we should have on our way back, and the railway speed with which we should come down, but I quite left out of the calculation what the condition of the snow might be a few hours hence. It was broad day-light when we reached the top of the incline, and the sun's welcome rays were beginning to brighten up the aiguilles and peaks on our left. Looking back the spectacle was not only grand and beautiful but weird-like, and the perfect stillness that reigned made it all the more impressive. The valley of Chamonix was filled with clouds, not mere fog or mist, but real clouds rolling beneath us, and slowly rising up the mountains whose rugged peaks and sharp-pointed aiguilles reared their graceful heads against a back ground of unclouded sky. The scene was one to be remembered, and we felt that we were beginning to reap the fruits of our five hours toil. Travelling was fairly easy, the snow being in splendid condition, and as there was no danger to be guarded against we were able to devote the whole of our attention to the scenery. The summit shining white certainly appeared nearer than it did from the Hotel d'Angleterre, but not so close as we should have expected after the hours we had spent in journeying towards it. Arriving at the Rochers des Bosses, some low, flat rocks, scarcely rising above the surrounding snow, their surfaces rent by the severity of the climate into thousands of sharp jagged pieces of stone, we sat down to rest for the first time since quitting the Grands Mulets. Lying down on this hard but welcome couch, and warmed by the sun now shining brightly upon us, we surveyed the remaining portion of the task before us—the 1,500 feet and more—yet to be mounted, immense fields of snow to be traversed, les Bosses du Dromadaire to be climbed—and then the final slope. Having "lighted up" I felt in a very contented mood, then an involuntary nod reminded me that we had not slept since the night before last,—puff—nod—puff—then a longer doze. "François, I should like to have a snooze." "You must not, sir!" "It can't do any harm." "You must not!" "Then the sooner we are off the better, for there is a lot of work to be done yet." Getting up lazily, we buckled to once more, and surmounting first the Grande and then the Petite Bosse, we approached a pure white ridge, sharp as a knife, and apparently vertical. Wondering how François would steer, whether to the right or left, so as to scale one of the sides, I was surprised to see him direct his steps to the centre. "Surely he does not intend to go up that frightful ridge! He does, though!" and on reaching it he informed us that it was the Mauvaise Arête; and a more wicked back-bone could scarcely be conceived. This was the spot which was visited by Pierre Balmat, Marie Couttet, François Paccard, and several others, when exploring the mountain on the 8th of June, 1786. They described it as a "huge ridge which connected the top of Mont Blanc with the Dôme du Goûté, but it was so steep and narrow that its passage was impossible;" and having concluded that the summit was inaccessible by this route, they returned to Chamonix. The Corridor and Mur de la Côte is the route generally followed, but this one is somewhat shorter and less fatiguing, though more difficult. It cannot, however, be made use of unless the weather is calm. Speaking for myself, I did not relish the prospect of climbing that knife edge, which was frightfully steep, scarcely a foot in width, apparently several hundred feet high, and its sides not very far removed from the perpendicular. Acting on the principle that when a disagreeable thing has to be done the sooner the [Pg 37] [Pg 38] [Pg 39] [Pg 40] better, we did not linger at the base, but went straight at it, slowly and with the greatest care, for we were now on ice. Before taking a step our alpenstocks were firmly driven in, which was a most laborious operation, although the surface was sufficiently soft to enable us to do so by stabbing it several times on each occasion. François had by far the heaviest task to perform, for he had constantly to use his axe in cutting steps. How long this went on I am unable to say, perhaps half an hour, most likely more; all I know is that ultimately we found ourselves standing in a happy frame of mind on the snow, which was almost level, and here we rested, panting, after our exertions, and then walking forward almost on a level the foot of the last slope was soon reached, and now the final assault was begun. The work was very stiff, though by no means difficult or dangerous, and we stopped more than once. Feeling very tired I remarked to François: "Well, I confess that I am fatigued." "And so are we, sir," was his laconic reply. During the whole of the ascent I had not experienced so much difficulty in walking as now. I felt as though I had a greater weight to support, and compare the work to carrying a heavy load up a long flight of stairs. And this was not to be wondered at, considering that the density of the air at this elevation is as nearly as possible half that at the level of the sea. Going up the Arête the pause between each step, whilst the alpenstock was being driven in, was sufficiently long to afford a rest. Then again, the mind was so occupied that fatigue, though doubtless present, passed unnoticed. But neither at this nor at any other time did I experience any difficulty of breathing or feelings of suffocation. At last the goal was reached!—we stood on the summit of Mont Blanc! The customary salute of three guns was fired from Chamonix; the bottle of champagne was drunk with the usual toasts; and, having shaken hands all round, we turned our attention to the world below—on which we did not seem to stand, but rather on some huge white cloud. Above the sky was a clear, unbroken atmosphere of blue; far beneath the spot on which we stood detached fields of clouds covered the landscape, and, uniting with the horizon, had the appearance of a vast sea; some of them, rising above the rest, resembled island rocks, while others towered up like gigantic cliffs. Monte Rosa, the rival of Mont Blanc, though rearing its proud head far above the ocean of clouds, seemed but a mere rock. The Jura was scarcely visible; the Brévent was indistinct; the Mont Maudit, Tacul, and the other peaks of the Mont Blanc range, though near and unclouded, were dwarfed into insignificance as we looked down upon them. There was no inclination to identify mountain, lake, or city, but rather to gaze in silence on that vast and weird-like scene. MONT BLANC FROM THE COL DE BALME. MONT BLANC FROM THE COL DE BALME. "There is a calm upon me— Inexplicable stillness! which till now Did not belong to what I knew of life. ... It will not last, But it is as well to have known it, though but once; It hath enlarged my thoughts with a new sense, And I within my tablets would note down ... That there is such a feeling." [Pg 41] [Pg 42] [Pg 43] CHAPTER V. "The mists boil up around the glaciers; clouds Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphury." Would that our stay could have been prolonged! but frail human nature cannot perform impossibilities. We had been on foot nine hours, and had a long day's work before us; furthermore we were thinly clad, and were exposed to a chilly breeze, from which no shelter could be found; so, casting a look on this indescribable scene, and with feelings of grim satisfaction that its awful stillness would never be profaned by crowds of noisy tourists and vendors of cheap articles, we commenced to retrace our steps. The Mauvaise Arête, bad as we had found it going up, was infinitely worse coming down; the ridge seemed narrower, and the slopes on either side much steeper. Several times our fellows called out "you must not look down, gentlemen;" but fortunately neither S—— nor myself were troubled with nervousness, and we did look down the steep inclines, whose end to all appearance was eternity. Slowly and cautiously the descent was made, each one minding his neighbour as well as himself, and taking special care that the rope should not be slack. We did not walk in step like soldiers on the march, but advanced in a succession of jerks as it were. François having made a step, stood still; S—— having followed his example, I did the same, and when Jules had completed his part of the performance, the opera was repeated. Some idea of the steepness of the ridge may be formed, when I say that at one exceptionally steep place I leaned back, and rested my shoulders against it. Jules at once called out, "Don't do that, sir, you are more likely to slip; trust to your heels." So following his advice I dug them well in and by dint of care the foot was safely reached, and we all looked forward to an easy and enjoyable return. But the end had not come yet! At the Rochers des Bosses we felt very much inclined to lie down, and to take it easy, but François urged us on, not liking the appearance of a cloud which was drifting in our direction. Clouds are one of the sources of danger on the mountain, through which cause eleven lives were lost a few years since. The poor fellows being unable to find their way perished of cold and exposure. We were marching down the rocks in a leisurely manner, and I, forgetful that we were roped, was paying no attention whatever to those who preceded me, the foot-hold being secure, when suddenly I felt a terrific jerk, and before there was time to plant myself firmly on my feet I had lost my balance, and was on the point of falling headlong, when to my great satisfaction a violent backward pull arrested a very ugly fall, which would probably have resulted in a broken limb if not something worse. The cause of this was an unseen piece of ice upon which S—— had placed his foot—slipped—and, falling suddenly, had communicated his misfortune to me through the agency of the rope. The alpenstock was jerked violently out of his hand, and went glissading down the snow for a distance of a hundred yards at least. It stopped, however, in a place that fortunately was accessible. The snow was now no longer in the same condition as in the early morning, the heat, though temperate, being sufficient to soften the crust, and render walking very laborious; and as we reached the top of the incline, where the expedition nearly came to an abrupt termination, and down which we had expected to glissade, we found the snow so soft that we sank in it to the knee and occasionally to the waist. Floundering along, and with an occasional grumble at a style of work for which we had not bargained, we slowly and gradually descended this unlucky slope, till its foot was reached. Parched and weary we went on, keeping a sharp look out for the wine we had left in the snow. "There it is!" "No! that belongs to the foreigners." "Then ours can't be far off;" and sure enough it was found in the same place where we had left it. Our stock of drinkables was now exhausted. [Pg 44] W [Pg 45] [Pg...