Part 15 (1/2)
Almer went to the front. He commenced by returning in the track for a hundred yards or so, and then started off at a tangent from Croz's curve.
We kept this course for half-an-hour, and then were certain that we were not on the right route, because the snow became decidedly steep. We bore away more and more to the right, to avoid this steep bank, but at last I rebelled, as we had for some time been going almost south-west, which was altogether the wrong direction. After a long discussion we returned some distance in our track, and then steered a little east of south, but we continually met steep snow-slopes, and to avoid them went right or left as the case might require.
We were greatly puzzled, and could not in the least tell whether we were too near the Dent Blanche or too close to the Tete Blanche. The mists had thickened, and were now as dense as a moderate London fog. There were no rocks or echoes to direct us, and the guidance of the compa.s.s brought us invariably against these steep snow-banks. The men were fairly beaten; they had all had a try, or more than one, and at last gave it up as a bad job, and asked what was to be done. It was 7.30 P.M. and only an hour of daylight was left. We were beginning to feel used up, for we had wandered about at tip-top speed for the last three hours and a half, so I said, ”This is my advice; let us turn in our track, and go back as hard as ever we can, not quitting the track for an instant.” They were well content, but just as we were starting off, the clouds lifted a little, and we thought we saw the Col. It was then to our right, and we went at it with a dash. Before we had gone a hundred paces down came the mist again. We kept on nevertheless for twenty minutes, and then, as darkness was perceptibly coming on, and the snow was yet rising in front, we turned back, and by running down the entire distance managed to get clear of the Ferpecle glacier just as it became pitch dark. We arrived at our cheerless chalet in due course, and went to bed supperless, for our food was gone; all very sulky-not to say savage-agreeing in nothing except in bullying Biener.
At 7 A.M. on the 19th, we set out, for the third time, for the Col d'Herens. It was a fine day, and we gradually recovered our tempers as we saw the follies which had been committed on the previous evening. Biener's wavering track was not so bad; but Croz had swerved from the right route from the first, and had traced a complete semicircle, so that when we stopped him we were facing Abricolla-whence we had started. Almer had commenced with great discretion; but he kept on too long, and crossed the proper route. When I stopped them (because we were going south-west), we were a long way up the Tete Blanche! Our last attempt was in the right direction; we were actually upon the summit of the pa.s.s, and in another ten yards we should have commenced to go down hill! It is needless to point out that if the compa.s.s had been looked to at the proper moment-that is, immediately the mist came down-we should have avoided all our troubles. It was little use afterwards, except to tell us when we were going _wrong_. We arrived at Zermatt in six and a half hours' walking from Abricolla, and Seller's hospitable reception set us all right again.
On the 20th we crossed the Theodule pa.s.s, and diverged from its summit up the Theodulhorn (11,391) to examine a route which I suggested for the ascent of the Matterhorn. Before continuing an account of our proceedings, I must stop for a minute to explain why this new route was proposed, in place of that up the south-western ridge.
The main peak of the Matterhorn may be divided into three sections.(174) The first, facing the Z'Muttgletscher, looks completely una.s.sailable; the second, facing the east, seems inaccessibility itself; whilst the third, facing Breil, does not look entirely hopeless. It was from this last direction that all my previous attempts were made. It was by the south-western ridge, it will be remembered, that not only I, but Mr.
Hawkins, Professor Tyndall, and the cha.s.seurs of Val Tournanche, essayed to climb the mountain. Why then abandon a route which had been shown to be feasible up to a certain point?
I gave it up for four reasons. 1. On account of my growing disinclination for aretes, and preference for snow and rock-faces (see Chap. XII.). 2.
Because I was persuaded that meteorological disturbances (by which we had been baffled several times) might be expected to occur again and again(175) (see Chaps. IV. and VI.). 3. Because I found that the east face was a gross imposition-it looked not far from perpendicular; while its angle was, in fact, scarcely more than 40. 4. Because I observed for myself that the strata of the mountain dipped to the west-south-west. It is not necessary to say anything more than has been already said upon the first two of these four points, but upon the latter two a few words are indispensable. Let us consider, first, why most persons receive such an exaggerated impression of the steepness of the eastern face.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MATTERHORN FROM THE RIFFELBERG.]
When one looks at the Matterhorn from Zermatt, the mountain is regarded (nearly) from the north-east. The face that fronts the east is consequently neither seen in profile nor in full front, but almost half-way between the two; it looks, therefore, more steep than it really is. The majority of those who visit Zermatt go up to the Riffelberg, or to the Gornergrat, and from these places, the mountain naturally looks still more precipitous, because its eastern face (which is almost all that is seen of it) is viewed more directly in front. From the Riffel hotel the slope seems to be set at an angle of 70. If the tourist continues to go southwards, and crosses the Theodule pa.s.s, he gets, at one point, immediately in front of the eastern face, which then seems to be absolutely perpendicular. Comparatively few persons correct the erroneous impressions they receive in these quarters by studying the face in profile, and most go away with a very incorrect and exaggerated idea of the precipitousness of this side of the mountain, because they have considered the question from one point of view alone.
Several years pa.s.sed away before I shook myself clear of my early and false impressions regarding the steepness of this side of the Matterhorn.
First of all, I noticed that there were places on this eastern face where snow remained permanently all the year round. I do not speak of snow in gullies, but of the considerable slopes which are seen upon the accompanying engraving, about half-way up the face. Such beds as these could not continue to remain throughout the summer, unless the snow had been able to acc.u.mulate in the winter in large ma.s.ses; and snow cannot acc.u.mulate and remain in large ma.s.ses, in a situation such as this, at angles much exceeding 45.(176) Hence I was bound to conclude that the eastern face was many degrees removed from perpendicularity; and, to be sure on this point, I went to the slopes between the Z'Muttgletscher and the Matterhorngletscher, above the chalets of Staffel, whence the face could be seen in profile. Its appearance from this direction would be amazing to one who had seen it only from the east. It looks so totally different from the apparently sheer and perfectly unclimbable cliff one sees from the Riffelberg, that it is hard to believe the two slopes are one and the same thing. Its angle scarcely exceeds 40.
A great step was made when this was learnt. This knowledge alone would not, however, have caused me to try an ascent by the eastern face instead of by the south-west ridge. Forty degrees may not seem a formidable inclination to the reader, nor is it for only a small cliff. But it is very unusual to find so steep a gradient maintained continuously as the general angle of a great mountain-slope, and very few instances can be quoted from the High Alps of such an angle being preserved over a rise of 3000 feet.
I do not think that the steepness or the height of this cliff would have deterred climbers from attempting to ascend it, if it had not, in addition, looked so repulsively smooth. Men despaired of finding anything to grasp. Now, some of the difficulties of the south-west ridge came from the smoothness of the rocks, although that ridge, even from a distance, seemed to be well broken up. How much greater, then, might not have been the difficulty of climbing a face which looked smooth and unbroken close at hand?
A more serious hindrance to mounting the south-west ridge is found in the dip of its rocks to the west-south-west. The great ma.s.s of the Matterhorn, it is now well ascertained, is composed of regularly stratified rocks,(177) which rise towards the east. It has been mentioned in the text, more than once, that the rocks on some portions of the ridge leading from the Col du Lion to the summit dip outwards, and that fractured edges overhang.(178) This is shown in the ill.u.s.trations facing pp. 76 and 84; and the annexed diagram, Fig. 1, exhibits the same thing still more clearly. It will be readily understood that such an arrangement is not favourable for climbers, and that the degree of facility with which rocks can be ascended that are so disposed, must depend very much upon the frequency or paucity of fissures and joints. The rocks of the south-west ridge are sufficiently provided with cracks, but if it were otherwise, their texture and arrangement would render them una.s.sailable.(179)
[Ill.u.s.tration: Diagrams to show dip of strata on the Matterhorn]
It is not possible to go a single time upon the rocks of the south-west ridge, from the Col du Lion to the foot of the Great Tower, without observing the prevalence of their outward dip, and that their fractured edges have a tendency to overhang; nor can one fail to notice that it is upon this account the debris, which is rent off by frost, does not remain _in situ_, but pours down in showers over the surrounding cliffs. Each day's work, so to speak, is cleared away; the ridge is swept clean; there is scarcely anything seen but firm rock.(180)
The fact that the mountain is composed of a series of stratified beds was pointed out long ago. De Saussure remarked it, and recorded explicitly, in his _Travels_ (-- 2243), that they ”rose to the north-east at an angle of about 45.” Forbes noticed it also; and gave it as his opinion that the beds were ”less inclined, or nearly horizontal.” He added, ”De Saussure is no doubt correct.”(181) The truth, I think, lies between the two.
I was acquainted with both of the above-quoted pa.s.sages, but did not turn the knowledge to any practical account until I re-observed the same fact for myself. It was not until after my repulse in 1863, that I referred the peculiar difficulties of the south-west ridge to the dip of the strata; but when once persuaded that structure and not texture was the real impediment, it was reasonable to infer that the opposite side, that is to say the eastern face, might be comparatively easy. In brief, that an arrangement should be found like Fig. 2, instead of like Fig. 1. This trivial deduction was the key to the ascent of the Matterhorn.
The point was, Did the strata continue with a similar dip throughout the mountain? If they did, then this great eastern face, instead of being hopelessly impracticable, should be quite the reverse.-In fact, it should be a great natural staircase, with steps inclining inwards; and, if it were so, its smooth aspect might be of no account, for the smallest steps, inclined in this fas.h.i.+on, would afford good footing.
They did so, as far as one could judge from a distance. When snow fell in the summer time, it brought out long, terraced lines upon the mountain; rudely parallel to each other; inclined in the direction shown (approximately) upon the figures in the accompanying plate; and the eastern face, on those occasions, was often whitened almost completely over; while the other sides, with the exception of the powdered terraces, remained black-for the snow could not rest upon them.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MATTERHORN FROM THE SUMMIT OF THE THEODULE Pa.s.s.]
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MATTERHORN FROM THE NORTH-EAST.]