Part 3 (1/2)
The next morning, after walking up the valley to examine the Viso, I returned to Abries, and engaged a man from a neighbouring hamlet, an inveterate smoker, and thirsty in proportion, whose pipe never left his mouth except to allow him to drink. We returned up the valley together, and slept in a hut of a shepherd, whose yearly wage was almost as small as that of the herdsman spoken of in Hyperion by Longfellow; and the next morning, in his company, proceeded to the summit of the pa.s.s which I had crossed in 1860. We were baffled in our attempt to get closer to the mountain. A deep notch(29) with precipitous cliffs cut us off from it. The snow-slope, too, which existed in the preceding year on the Piedmontese side of the pa.s.s, was now wanting, and we were unable to descend the rocks which lay beneath. A fortnight afterwards the mountain was ascended for the first time by Messrs. Mathews and Jacomb, with the two Croz's of Chamounix. Their attempt was made from the _southern_ side, and the ascent, which was formerly considered a thing totally impossible, has become one of the most common and favourite excursions of the district.
The night of the 14th of August found me at St. Veran, a village made famous by Neff, but in no other respect remarkable, saving that it is one of the highest in Europe. The poor inn gave the impression of great poverty. There was no meat, no bread, no b.u.t.ter or cheese; almost the only things that could be obtained were eggs. The manners of the natives were primitive. The woman of the inn, without the least sense of impropriety, stayed in the room until I was fairly in bed, and her bill for supper, bed, and breakfast, amounted to one and sevenpence.
[Ill.u.s.tration: NATURAL PILLAR NEAR MOLINES.]
In this neighbourhood, and indeed all round about the Viso, the chamois still remain in considerable numbers. They said at St. Veran that six had been seen from the village on the day I was there, and the innkeeper declared that he had seen fifty together in the previous week! I myself saw in this and in the previous season several small companies round about the Viso. It is perhaps as favourable a district as any in the Alps for a sportsman who wishes to hunt the chamois, as the ground over which they wander is by no means of excessive difficulty.
The next day I descended the valley to Ville Vieille, and pa.s.sed near the village of Molines, but on the opposite side of the valley, a remarkable natural pillar, in form not unlike a champagne bottle, about sixty feet high, which had been produced by the action of the weather, and, in all probability, chiefly by rain. These natural pillars are among the most remarkable examples of the potent effects produced by the long-continued action of quiet-working forces. They are found in several other places in the Alps, as well as elsewhere.
The village of Ville Vieille boasts of an inn with the sign of the Elephant; which, in the opinion of local amateurs, is a proof that Hannibal pa.s.sed through the gorge of the Guil. I remember the place, because its bread, being only a month old, was unusually soft, and, for the first time during ten days, it was possible to eat some, without first of all chopping it into small pieces and soaking it in hot water, which produced a slimy paste on the outside, but left a hard untouched kernel.
The same day I crossed the Col Isoard to Briancon. It was the 15th of August, and all the world was _en fete_; sounds of revelry proceeded from the houses of Servieres as I pa.s.sed over the bridge upon which the pyrrhic dance is annually performed,(30) and natives in all degrees of inebriation staggered about the paths. It was late before the lights of the great fortress came into sight; but unchallenged I pa.s.sed through the gates, and once more sought shelter under the roof of the Hotel de l'Ours.
CHAPTER III.
MY FIRST SCRAMBLE ON THE MATTERHORN.
”What power must have been required to shatter and to sweep away the missing parts of this pyramid; for we do not see it surrounded by heaps of fragments; one only sees other peaks-themselves rooted to the ground-whose sides, equally rent, indicate an immense ma.s.s of debris, of which we do not see any trace in the neighbourhood. Doubtless this is that debris which, in the form of pebbles, boulders, and sand, covers our valleys and our plains.”
DE SAUSSURE.
Two summits amongst those in the Alps which yet remained virgin had especially excited my admiration. One of these had been attacked numberless times by the best mountaineers without success; the other, surrounded by traditional inaccessibility, was almost untouched. These mountains were the Weisshorn and the Matterhorn.
After visiting the great tunnel of the Alps in 1861, I wandered for ten days in the neighbouring valleys, intending, presently, to attempt the ascent of these two peaks. Rumours were floating about that the former had been conquered, and that the latter was shortly to be attacked, and they were confirmed on arrival at Chatillon, at the entrance of the Val Tournanche. My interest in the Weisshorn consequently abated, but it was raised to the highest pitch on hearing that Professor Tyndall was at Breil, and intending to try to crown his first victory by another and still greater one.
Up to this time my experience with guides had not been fortunate, and I was inclined, improperly, to rate them at a low value. They represented to me pointers out of paths, and large consumers of meat and drink, but little more; and, with the recollection of Mont Pelvoux, I should have greatly preferred the company of a couple of my countrymen to any number of guides. In answer to inquiries at Chatillon, a series of men came forward, whose faces expressed malice, pride, envy, hatred, and roguery of every description, but who seemed to be dest.i.tute of all good qualities.
The arrival of two gentlemen with a guide, who they represented was the embodiment of every virtue, and exactly the man for the Matterhorn, rendered it unnecessary to engage any of the others. My new guide in _physique_ was a combination of Chang and Anak; and although in acquiring him I did not obtain exactly what was wanted, his late employers did exactly what _they_ wanted, for I obtained the responsibility, without knowledge, of paying his back fare, which must have been a relief at once to their minds and to their purses.
When walking up towards Breil,(31) we inquired for another man of all the knowing ones, and they, with one voice, proclaimed that Jean-Antoine Carrel, of the village of Val Tournanche, was the c.o.c.k of his valley. We sought, of course, for Carrel; and found him a well-made, resolute-looking fellow, with a certain defiant air which was rather taking. Yes, he would go. Twenty francs a day, whatever was the result, was his price. I a.s.sented. But I must take his comrade. ”Why so?” Oh, it was absolutely impossible to get along without another man. As he said this, an evil countenance came forth out of the darkness and proclaimed itself the comrade. I demurred, the negotiations broke off, and we went up to Breil.
This place will be frequently mentioned in subsequent chapters, and was in full view of the extraordinary peak, the ascent of which we were about to attempt.
It is unnecessary to enter into a minute description of the Matterhorn, after all that has been written about that famous mountain. Those by whom this book is likely to be read will know that that peak is nearly 15,000 feet high, and that it rises abruptly, by a series of cliffs which may properly be termed precipices, a clear 5000 feet above the glaciers which surround its base. They will know too that it was the last great Alpine peak which remained unscaled,-less on account of the difficulty of doing so, than from the terror inspired by its invincible appearance. There seemed to be a _cordon_ drawn around it, up to which one might go, but no farther. Within that invisible line gins and effreets were supposed to exist-the Wandering Jew and the spirits of the d.a.m.ned. The superst.i.tious natives in the surrounding valleys (many of whom still firmly believe it to be not only the highest mountain in the Alps, but in the world) spoke of a ruined city on its summit wherein the spirits dwelt; and if you laughed, they gravely shook their heads; told you to look yourself to see the castles and the walls, and warned one against a rash approach, lest the infuriate demons from their impregnable heights might hurl down vengeance for one's derision. Such were the traditions of the natives.
Stronger minds felt the influence of the wonderful form, and men who ordinarily spoke or wrote like rational beings, when they came under its power seemed to quit their senses, and ranted, and rhapsodised, losing for a time all common forms of speech. Even the sober De Saussure was moved to enthusiasm when he saw the mountain, and-inspired by the spectacle-he antic.i.p.ated the speculations of modern geologists, in the striking sentences which are placed at the head of this chapter.
The Matterhorn looks equally imposing from whatever side it is seen; it never seems commonplace; and in this respect, and in regard to the impression it makes upon spectators, it stands almost alone amongst mountains. It has no rivals in the Alps, and but few in the world.
The seven or eight thousand feet which compose the actual peak have several well-marked ridges and numerous others.(32) The most continuous is that which leads towards the north-east; the summit is at its higher, and the little peak, called the Hornli, is at its lower end. Another one that is well-p.r.o.nounced descends from the summit to the ridge called the Furgen Grat. The slope of the mountain that is between these two ridges will be referred to as the eastern face. A third, somewhat less continuous than the others, descends in a south-westerly direction, and the portion of the mountain that is seen from Breil is confined to that which is comprised between this and the second ridge. This section is not composed, like that between the first and second ridge, of one grand face; but it is broken up into a series of huge precipices, spotted with snow-slopes, and streaked with snow-gullies. The other half of the mountain, facing the Z'Mutt glacier, is not capable of equally simple definition. There are precipices, apparent, but not actual; there are precipices absolutely perpendicular; there are precipices overhanging: there are glaciers, and there are hanging glaciers; there are glaciers which tumble great _seracs_ over greater cliffs, whose debris, subsequently consolidated, becomes glacier again; there are ridges split by the frost, and washed by the rain and melted snow into towers and spires: while, everywhere, there are ceaseless sounds of action, telling that the causes are still in operation which have been at work since the world began; reducing the mighty ma.s.s to atoms, and effecting its degradation.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MATTERHORN FROM THE NORTH-EAST.]
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MATTERHORN FROM THE SUMMIT OF THE THEODULE Pa.s.s.
(10,899 FEET)]
Most tourists obtain their first view of the mountain either from the valley of Zermatt or from that of Tournanche. From the former direction the base of the mountain is seen at its narrowest, and its ridges and faces seem to be of prodigious steepness. The tourist toils up the valley, looking frequently for the great sight which is to reward his pains, without seeing it (for the mountain is first perceived in that direction about a mile to the north of Zermatt), when, all at once, as he turns a rocky corner of the path, it comes into view; not, however, where it is expected; the face has to be raised up to look at it; it seems overhead.
Although this is the impression, the fact is that the summit of the Matterhorn from this point makes an angle with the eye of less than 16, while the Dom, from the same place, makes a larger angle, but is pa.s.sed by un.o.bserved. So little can dependence be placed on unaided vision. The view of the mountain from Breil, in the Val Tournanche, is not less striking than that on the other side; but, usually, it makes less impression, because the spectator grows accustomed to the sight while coming up or down the valley. From this direction the mountain is seen to be broken up into a series of pyramidal wedge-shaped ma.s.ses; on the other side it is remarkable for the large, unbroken extent of cliffs that it presents, and for the simplicity of its outline. It was natural to suppose that a way would more readily be found to the summit on a side thus broken up than in any other direction. The eastern face, fronting Zermatt, seemed one smooth, inaccessible cliff, from summit to base. The ghastly precipices which face the Z'Mutt glacier forbade any attempt in _that_ direction.
There remained only the side of Val Tournanche; and it will be found that nearly all the earliest attempts to ascend the mountain were made upon the southern side.