Part 3 (2/2)
The first efforts to ascend the Matterhorn of which I have heard, were made by the guides, or rather by the cha.s.seurs, of Val Tournanche.(33) These attempts were made in the years 1858-9, from the direction of Breil, and the highest point that was attained was perhaps as far as the place which is now called the ”Chimney” (cheminee), a height of about 12,650 feet. Those who were concerned in these expeditions were Jean-Antoine Carrel, Jean Jacques Carrel, Victor Carrel, the Abbe Gorret, and Gabrielle Maquignaz. I have been unable to obtain any further details respecting them.
The next attempt was a remarkable one; and of it, too, there is no published account. It was made by the Messrs. Alfred, Charles, and Sandbach Parker, of Liverpool, in July 1860. These gentlemen, _without guides_, endeavoured to storm the citadel by attacking its eastern face(34)-that to which reference was just now made as a smooth, impracticable cliff. Mr. Sandbach Parker informs me that he and his brothers went along the ridge between the Hornli and the peak until they came to the point where the ascending angle is considerably increased.
This place is marked on Dufour's map of Switzerland 3298 metres (10,820 feet). They were then obliged to bear a little to the left to get on to the face of the mountain, and, afterwards, they turned to the right, and ascended about 700 feet farther, keeping as nearly as was practicable to the crest of the ridge, but, occasionally, bearing a little to the left-that is, more on to the face of the mountain. The brothers started from Zermatt, and did not sleep out. Clouds, a high wind, and want of time, were the causes which prevented these daring gentlemen from going farther. Thus, their highest point was under 12,000 feet.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MATTERHORN FROM NEAR THE SUMMIT OF THE THEODULE Pa.s.s.]
The third attempt upon the mountain was made towards the end of August 1860, by Mr. Vaughan Hawkins,(35) from the side of the Val Tournanche. A vivid account of his expedition has been published by him in _Vacation Tourists_;(36) and it has been referred to several times by Professor Tyndall in the numerous papers he has contributed to Alpine literature. I will dismiss it, therefore, as briefly as possible.
Mr. Hawkins had inspected the mountain in 1859, with the guide J. J.
Bennen, and he had formed the opinion that the south-west ridge(37) would lead to the summit. He engaged J. Jacques Carrel, who was concerned in the first attempts, and, accompanied by Bennen (and by Professor Tyndall, whom he had invited to take part in the expedition), he started for the gap between the little and the great peak.(38)
[Ill.u.s.tration: J. J. BENNEN (1862).]
Bennen was a guide who was beginning to be talked about. During the chief part of his brief career he was in the service of Wellig, the landlord of the inn on the aeggischhorn, and was hired out by him to tourists. Although his experience was limited, he had acquired a good reputation; and his book of certificates, which is lying before me,(39) shows that he was highly esteemed by his employers. A good-looking man, with courteous, gentlemanly manners, skilful and bold, he might, by this time, have taken a front place amongst guides if he had only been endowed with more prudence. He perished miserably, in the spring of 1864, not far from his home, on a mountain called the Haut de Cry, in the Valais.(40)
Mr. Hawkins' party, led by Bennen, climbed the rocks ab.u.t.ting against the Couloir du Lion, on its south side, and attained the Col du Lion, although not without difficulty. They then followed the south-west ridge, pa.s.sed the place at which the earliest explorers had turned back (the Chimney),(41) and ascended about 300 feet more. Mr. Hawkins and J. J.
Carrel then stopped, but Bennen and Professor Tyndall mounted a few feet higher. They retreated, however, in less than half-an-hour, finding that there was too little time; and, descending to the Col by the same route as they had followed on the ascent, proceeded thence to Breil, down the Couloir instead of by the rocks. The point at which Mr. Hawkins stopped is easily identified from his description. Its height is 12,992 feet above the sea. I think that Bennen and Tyndall could not have ascended more than 50 or 60 feet beyond this in the few minutes they were absent from the others, as they were upon one of the most difficult parts of the mountain.
This party therefore accomplished an advance of about 350 or 400 feet.
Mr. Hawkins did not, as far as I know, make another attempt; and the next was made by the Messrs. Parker, in July 1861. They again started from Zermatt; followed the route they had struck out on the previous year, and got a little higher than before; but they were defeated by want of time, shortly afterwards left Zermatt on account of bad weather, and did not again renew their attempts. Mr. Parker says-”In neither case did we go as high as we could. At the point where we turned we saw our way for a few hundred feet farther; but, beyond that, the difficulties seemed to increase.” I am informed that both attempts should be considered as excursions undertaken with the view of ascertaining whether there was any encouragement to make a more deliberate attack on the north-east side.
My guide and I arrived at Breil on the 28th of August 1861, and we found that Professor Tyndall _had_ been there a day or two before, but had done nothing. I had seen the mountain from nearly every direction, and it seemed, even to a novice like myself, far too much for a single day. I intended to sleep out upon it, as high as possible, and to attempt to reach the summit on the following day. We endeavoured to induce another man to accompany us, but without success. Matthias zum Taugwald and other well-known guides were there at the time, but they declined to go on any account. A st.u.r.dy old fellow-Peter Taugwalder by name-said he would go!
His price? ”Two hundred francs.” ”What, whether we ascend or not?”
”Yes-nothing less.” The end of the matter was, that all the men who were more or less capable showed a strong disinclination, or positively refused, to go (their disinclination being very much in proportion to their capacity), or else asked a prohibitive price. This, it may be said once for all, was the reason why so many futile attempts were made upon the Matterhorn. One first-rate guide after another was brought up to the mountain, and patted on the back, but all declined the business. The men who went had no heart in the matter, and took the first opportunity to turn back.(42) For they were, with the exception of one man, to whom reference will be made presently, universally impressed with the belief that the summit was entirely inaccessible.
We resolved to go alone, and antic.i.p.ating a cold bivouac, begged the loan of a couple of blankets from the innkeeper. He refused them; giving the curious reason, that we had bought a bottle of brandy at Val Tournanche, and had not bought any from him! No brandy, no blankets, appeared to be his rule. We did not require them that night, as it was pa.s.sed in the highest cow-shed in the valley, which is about an hour nearer to the mountain than is the hotel. The cowherds, worthy fellows, seldom troubled by tourists, hailed our company with delight, and did their best to make us comfortable; brought out their little stores of simple food, and, as we sat with them round the great copper pot which hung over the fire, bade us in husky voice, but with honest intent, to beware of the perils of the haunted cliffs. When night was coming on, we saw, stealing up the hill-side, the forms of Jean-Antoine Carrel and the comrade. ”Oh ho!” I said, ”you have repented?” ”Not at all; you deceive yourself.” ”Why then have you come here?” ”Because we ourselves are going on the mountain to-morrow.” ”Oh, then it is _not_ necessary to have more than three.” ”Not for _us_.” I admired their pluck, and had a strong inclination to engage the pair; but, finally, decided against it. The comrade turned out to be the J. J. Carrel who had been with Mr. Hawkins, and was nearly related to the other man.
[Ill.u.s.tration: JEAN-ANTOINE CARREL (1869).]
Both were bold mountaineers; but Jean-Antoine was incomparably the better man of the two, and he is the finest rock-climber I have ever seen. He was the only man who persistently refused to accept defeat, and who continued to believe, in spite of all discouragements, that the great mountain was not inaccessible, and that it could be ascended from the side of his native valley.
The night wore away without any excitement, except from the fleas, a party of whom executed a spirited fandango on my cheek, to the sound of music produced on the drum of my ear, by one of their fellows beating with a wisp of hay. The two Carrels crept noiselessly out before daybreak, and went off. We did not start until nearly seven o'clock, and followed them leisurely, leaving all our properties in the cow-shed; sauntered over the gentian-studded slopes which intervene between the shed and the Glacier du Lion, left cows and their pastures behind, traversed the stony wastes, and arrived at the ice. Old, hard beds of snow lay on its right bank (our left hand), and we mounted over them on to the lower portion of the glacier with ease. But, as we ascended, creva.s.ses became numerous, and we were at last brought to a halt by some which were of very large dimensions; and, as our cutting powers were limited, we sought an easier route, and turned, naturally, to the lower rocks of the Tete du Lion, which overlook the glacier on its west. Some good scrambling took us in a short time on to the crest of the ridge which descends towards the south; and thence, up to the level of the Col du Lion, there was a long natural staircase, on which it was seldom necessary to use the hands. We dubbed the place ”The Great Staircase.” Then the cliffs of the Tete du Lion, which rise above the Couloir, had to be skirted. This part varies considerably in different seasons, and in 1861 we found it difficult; for the fine steady weather of that year had reduced the snow-beds ab.u.t.ting against it to a lower level than usual, and the rocks which were left exposed at the junction of the snow with the cliffs, had few ledges or cracks to which we could hold. But by half-past ten o'clock we stood on the Col, and looked down upon the magnificent basin out of which the Z'Mutt glacier flows. We decided to pa.s.s the night upon the Col, for we were charmed with the capabilities of the place, although it was one where liberties could not be taken. On one side a sheer wall overhung the Tiefenmatten glacier. On the other, steep, gla.s.sy slopes of hard snow descended to the Glacier du Lion, furrowed by water and by falling stones. On the north there was the great peak of the Matterhorn,(43) and on the south the cliffs of the Tete du Lion. Throw a bottle down to the Tiefenmatten-no sound returns for more than a dozen seconds.
* * * ”how fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low!”
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE COL DU LION: LOOKING TOWARDS THE TeTE DU LION.]
But no harm could come from that side. Neither could it from the other.
Nor was it likely that it would from the Tete du Lion, for some jutting ledges conveniently overhung our proposed resting-place. We waited for a while, basked in the suns.h.i.+ne, and watched or listened to the Carrels, who were sometimes seen or heard, high above us, upon the ridge leading towards the summit; and, leaving at mid-day, we descended to the cow-shed, packed up the tent and other properties, and returned to the Col, although heavily laden, before six o'clock. This tent was constructed on a pattern suggested by Mr. Francis Galton, and it was not a success. It looked very pretty when set up in London, but it proved thoroughly useless in the Alps. It was made of light canvas, and opened like a book; had one end closed permanently and the other with flaps; it was supported by two alpenstocks, and had the canvas sides prolonged so as to turn in underneath. Numerous cords were sewn to the lower edges, to which stones were to be attached; but the main fastenings were by a cord which pa.s.sed underneath the ridge and through iron rings screwed into the tops of the alpenstocks, and were secured by pegs. The wind, which playfully careered about the surrounding cliffs, was driven through our gap with the force of a blow-pipe; the flaps of the tent would not keep down, the pegs would not stay in, and it exhibited so marked a desire to go to the top of the Dent Blanche, that we thought it prudent to take it down and to sit upon it.
When night came on we wrapped ourselves in it, and made our camp as comfortable as the circ.u.mstances would allow. The silence was impressive.
No living thing was near our solitary bivouac; the Carrels had turned back and were out of hearing; the stones had ceased to fall, and the trickling water to murmur-
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