An Impromptu Ascent of Mont Blanc Part 2

"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 Pet.i.te Bosse, we approached a pure white ridge, sharp as a knife, and apparently vertical. Wondering how Francois 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 Arete; and a more wicked _back-bone_ could scarcely be conceived.

This was the spot which was visited by Pierre Balmat, Marie Couttet, Francois 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 Dome du Goute, but it was so steep and narrow that its pa.s.sage was impossible;" and having concluded that the summit was inaccessible by this route, they returned to Chamonix. The Corridor and Mur de la Cote 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 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. Francois 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 a.s.sault 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 Francois:

"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 Arete 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, pa.s.sed 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 Brevent 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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."

_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 Arete, 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. Francois 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 Francois 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.

Nearing the Pet.i.t Plateau we were enabled to examine the much-feared avalanches, which were almost invisible during the ascent. In appearance they were not unlike chalk cliffs, cracked here and there as though the foundation had yielded. On the whole, these huge blocks looked safe enough, with the exception of one some thirty feet in height which was hanging over, ripe for a fall at any moment. Under the very shadow of this threatening ma.s.s of consolidated snow we were bound to pa.s.s, and, eyeing it with suspicion, we increased our pace to the utmost possible speed, when, as luck would have it, S---- sank into a mixture of ice and snow just as we were immediately underneath. Francois turned back, and tugged away; Jules went forward to a.s.sist, but their united efforts proving of no avail they resorted to their ice-axes, and finally succeeded in quarrying out the imprisoned limb. This was probably the most hair-breadth escape during the whole expedition. With feelings of relief we walked on in silence, and crossed the same uninviting ridges, high walls of ice, with creva.s.ses on the right hand and on the left; as it was softer than on our way up, there was a feeling of suspicion that the material might give way at any moment. However, it held good, and once again we exclaimed, "All right."

Moving cautiously along, we reached the brink of the nearly vertical slope referred to in the ascent, and now that it was visible we wondered how we had climbed it. Looking down it appeared quite perpendicular, and its condition was so changed by the influence of the sun that going down in the same free and easy way that we had climbed up was quite out of the question. "Francois, cannot we get round that way?" "It is impossible, sir." "Well, what is to be done?" "Oh! we shall manage very well!" We were now untied, then each one in turn was fastened round the chest with an end of the rope, the other being held by those above.

S---- went first and disappeared over the brink; my turn came next, and holding the rope firmly, and kicking my feet into the soft neve, I joined him below; then Francois followed, and lastly Jules, and a very trying time it must have been for him, for he was obliged to descend by his own unaided exertions. The rope being fastened round his waist, we held the other end, carefully taking in the slack as he came down, so that in the event of a fall we might prevent him from slipping into eternity down the slope on which we stood. As he worked his way down by kicking his feet into the partially-melted neve, and retaining his vertical position by means of the ice-axe, he seemed like a fly on a wall, and was more to be admired than envied; but to his credit he descended the forty-five feet without a slip.

Pausing for a few minutes, we commenced the descent of les Montees in a very matter-of-fact way, glissading being quite out of the question on account of the soft condition of the snow, for the weather was now excessively hot. Although we were going downhill, the work was trying enough, and to make matters worse the flask was empty! However, the Grands Mulets were in sight, and the thought of the "Cabane," and the refreshment contained therein, encouraged us as we alternately buried and extricated our legs in and out of the yielding snow. The much-desired haven seemed so very near, that I remarked in a diffident way, "Another quarter of an hour, Jules?" "Three quarters, sir."

Deceived again! How provokingly distinct it appeared through the pure atmosphere, unpolluted with smoke, gas, and the many other impurities to which we are subject in England. The remaining thousand feet or thereabouts having been descended without any incident worth recording, we entered the "Cabane" at two o'clock, tired, parched, and our lower extremities wet through. S---- forthwith threw himself on a bed, and was sound asleep in a moment. Our trusty fellows disappeared, and having taken off my boots I had some luncheon, with a bottle of beer, which was perfect nectar. I lay down on one of the beds, and smoked the pipe of peace. We had allowed ourselves a rest of an hour and a half; at 3-30 p.m., time being up, we once more and for the last time got into harness, and ten minutes afterwards quitted the "Cabane." We worked our way down the rugged rocks at a quick pace, for the weather had changed and a thunderstorm was rapidly approaching. Heavy clouds were rolling up the valley, and ever and anon a clap of thunder pealed forth, reverberating amongst the mountains. "I am very anxious to cross the glacier before the rain comes down." "Very well, Francois, go ahead as fast as you like, and we won't stop you." So down the slopes of snow we went at a rapid pace, soon arriving on the ice. Our route was not the same as on going up, in consequence of a change in the creva.s.ses; they are always changing, for the glacier, as I have before explained, never remains still, moving forward at the rate of some three feet or even more per day.

[Ill.u.s.tration: COMING DOWN THE GLACIER DES BOSSONS.]

On the whole we found the work less trying than on the previous day.

Whether it was really so, or only by comparison, I cannot tell; however, there were one or two awkward bits to dispose of, one, especially, which was a perpendicular face of ice forming the side of a deep creva.s.se, along which we worked our way by stepping into holes cut into it at every two or three feet, and by gripping the ice in notches which were hewn out for this purpose. Then the ropes were untied, and we felt like colts unloosed. The remaining portion of the glacier was speedily crossed; the rocky base of the Aiguille du Midi was traversed at a run; the little torrents were bounded over; the rude zig-zag paths, covered with rolling stones, were scampered down, and Pierre Pointue was safely reached. Here we paid our bill for board and lodging at the Grands Mulets, and whilst refres.h.i.+ng ourselves, we were rather amused at hearing an altercation between the "foreigners"--who, by the way, had made the ascent--and the landlord respecting the price of a bottle of wine! This was the last we saw of them.

We now commenced the final stages of our journey, and a wet one it proved, for the storm was overhead, the lightning flashed, and the rain began to fall; and by the time we entered the Forest des Pelerins, it came down in torrents. Being without top-coats or umbrellas, it was not long in penetrating our thin clothing. But what did it signify? The journey was nearly over, and the thought that our impromptu expedition had been so successful cheered us as we strode down the zig-zags, which seemed never ending. The bottom, however, was reached at last, and, gaining the level, we soon found ourselves on the outskirts of the village. The populace did not turn out, neither did we attempt to form a procession, _a la_ Albert Smith, but quietly, and in the same unostentatious manner that we had left on the previous day, we directed our way to the Hotel; on approaching which we were rather astonished at being again saluted by cannon, and much more so at finding the entrance hall of the Hotel filled with guests, who had hurriedly left the table d'hote to welcome our safe arrival. It was very good of them to give, and very pleasant for us to receive, their kind and unexpected congratulations. Our wet clothes having been changed, we spent a pleasant evening sitting under the verandah, and talking over our adventures.

_CHAPTER VI._

"Here are the Alpine landscapes which create A fund for contemplation; to admire Is a brief feeling of a trivial date; But something worthier do such scenes inspire."

On getting up next morning I felt rather stiff, and there was a burning sensation all over my face and ears, as though they had undergone a mild scorching. The effect of the sun's rays and radiation from the snow is very remarkable, and in a few hours the complexion is dyed the colour of mahogany. Much to our surprise, Francois and Jules, weather-beaten and sun-burnt as they were before going up, were several shades darker on their return. As for S---- his condition was simply deplorable, and he suffered great inconvenience for more than a week afterwards. For several days he presented an indescribably unwholesome appearance, and it was not until the whole of his skin had fallen off--which it did piecemeal and in huge flakes--that his good looks were restored. After breakfast our trusty fellows were paid for their services, Francois receiving one hundred and Jules fifty francs, which with one hundred and fifty-two francs for board and lodging at the Grands Mulets, brought up our expenses to three hundred and two francs, or about 6 each, exclusive of a few extras that are not worth noting; I may say, however, that the ascent is rarely made for so moderate a sum. The regulation number of guides is as follows, viz., two guides and one porter for a traveller, and one extra guide for each additional person, by which we ought to have had three guides and one porter, but not having intended to go further than the Grands Mulets we went with half the usual number, and although we were perfect novices at the work, we got on admirably, and do not quite see what advantage would have been gained by having a larger number of attendants.

The next thing to be done was to pay a visit to the guides' office, and on our way there Francois said, "Sir, will you explain to the chief that when we started we had not intended going further than the Grands Mulets, otherwise we shall be fined, because we were not on turn for the ascent?" The chief listened attentively to my explanation, and then remarked, "In that case they shall not be punished." We then signed our names in the record book, and afterwards obtained certificates surmounted by comical-looking sketches, supposed to represent the summit with a party of tourists and guides in a variety of absurd att.i.tudes.

These doc.u.ments were numbered 768, which means that this was the seven hundred and sixty-eighth ascent from Chamonix since Balmat successfully reached the top on the 8th August, 1786. They were dated 20th July, 1881, and were signed by Francois, Jules, and Frederic Payot, the chief guide.

Whilst lolling about during the remainder of the day, we were "interviewed" pretty frequently, and the interest taken in our adventures appeared to be as deep as though the ascent was a matter of very rare occurrence. The first question invariably asked was, "Did you suffer from the rarified air?" The answer to which was, "Not at all as regards breathing, but we none of us had any appet.i.te at a higher elevation than the Grands Mulets." They did not, however, put the second question, which one is always asked in England, "Did it repay you?"

How many are there, of the thousands who visit Chamonix every year, who would not go to the top of Mont Blanc if the journey could be as easily performed as on the Rigi? But risk to life and limb, mountain sickness, wet feet, and rather more walking than they have a fancy for, keeps them in the lower regions, from which they content themselves with viewing the mountain.

Amongst those who took a special interest in our late achievement were two ladies, who, accompanied by a gentleman, were to make an attempt the following morning. The route had been carefully studied, experienced guides and porters had been engaged, wrappers, veils, and better fare than can be procured at the Grands Mulets, had been provided. The weather, too, was magnificent, the thunderstorm having completely pa.s.sed away at sunset, so as far as one could foresee they were likely to be favoured by the weather, which is half the battle.

At six next morning, having hurried down to wish them success, I found the party all ready for a start. Two mules, which had been hired to carry their fair burdens to Pierre Pointue, were flapping their long ears and looking as if they thought getting up early a horrid bore. The guides and porters were fully equipped, and amongst other things they were provided with coils of brand new rope, which was indicative of precaution. On coming up to them, one of the ladies, with something very like tears in her eyes, said, "Couttet won't go; the weather has changed; there are clouds on the mountain; so our excursion must be put off." Turning to the guide who was responsible for this decision, he remarked in a most disconsolate tone, "Ah, monsieur, c'est impossible;"

and no doubt he was right, for the summit down to the Glacier des Bossons was completely obscured; and what made it all the more vexatious was that in other respects the weather was everything that could be desired. Having expressed my warmest sympathy, I hastened to my room to prepare for our departure by the diligence, which was to leave at seven o'clock.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DIAGRAM SHEWING THE RELATIVE HEIGHTS OF MONT BLANC AND SNOWDON]

In bringing my narrative to a conclusion, I may say that although the ascent of Mont Blanc is no longer considered difficult or dangerous, I submit that in all probability the route is practically the same as when Balmat made the first ascent. The zig-zags to Pierre Pointue may have been slightly improved, and possibly the path which Albert Smith describes as so trying to the nerves on the way to Pierre a l'Ech.e.l.le may be a few inches wider, but I doubt whether the Glacier des Bossons, the Montees, the Plateaux, and the Bosses du Dromadaire, have undergone any appreciable change; and I would point out that, although nearly eight hundred ascents have been made in a hundred years, the failures are not recorded. These, I am informed, far exceed the successes; therefore let those whose ambition it is to stand upon the highest point in Europe be prepared to meet with disappointments; for not only may they be unequal to the physical exertion that is necessary, but their expedition may be brought to an untimely end by various causes, and above all by the weather; but, on the other hand, should they be favoured as we were, and succeed in reaching the "diadem of snow," I promise them ample repayment. The fatigue undergone, the discomforts endured, and the dangers encountered, will soon be forgotten. But the deep impressions made when viewing the sublimest works of nature from those regions of eternal snow will last as long as life.

APPENDIX.

In 1760, De Saussure paid his first visit to Chamonix, and, feeling convinced that the summit was accessible, he promised a handsome reward to anyone who discovered a practicable route, and even offered to pay the wages of all those who attempted the ascent. His guide, Pierre Simon, tried twice--once by the Tacul and once by the Bossons--but returned without success.

1775.--Four peasants managed to reach a valley of snow which appeared to lead directly to the summit, but they suffered so acutely from the rarified air that they were compelled to return.