An Impromptu Ascent of Mont Blanc Part 1

An Impromptu Ascent of Mont Blanc.

by W. H. Le Mesurier.

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 ill.u.s.trations (which, for the most part, are taken from photographs) free from exaggeration.

_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'hote 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 Goute 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 Cote. 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 s.h.i.+ning brightly on the summit which was entirely free from clouds--a somewhat unusual circ.u.mstance, 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 Brevent, 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 Francois 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 Brevent, 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 Goute 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'Argentiere, 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.

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 circ.u.mstances, 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."

[Ill.u.s.tration: VIEW OF MONT BLANC FROM THE BReVENT.

1 Forest des Pelerins.

2 Pierre Pontue.

3 Glacier des Bossons.

4 Grands Mulets.

5 Pet.i.t 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 Dome du Goute.

E Aiguille du Goute.

F Montagne de la Cote.

G Glacier de Taconnaz.

H Montagne de la Cote.

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 a Pichner. Lower yet are the Glaciers des Bossons and Taconnaz, on either side of the Montagne de la Cote, 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 Dome and Aiguille du Goute 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 Francois undertook to find a suitable man for that purpose. A mule was to be hired, Francois remarking "you shall have the same mule and the same boy you had to-day; you know them both."

_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 Francois 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 Pelerins, 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 una.s.suming little buildings, and the Aiguille du Goute 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 pa.s.sing over the same ground thirty years ago.

Three quarters of an hour after leaving Pierre Pointue, we reached Pierre a l'Ech.e.l.le, against whose side was reared a strong ladder which is kept for use when the creva.s.ses are too wide to be crossed without its a.s.sistance. 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 creva.s.ses 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 creva.s.se, may bear one's weight or not according to a variety of circ.u.mstances, 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.

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 creva.s.ses 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. Francois 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 pa.s.sed 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 creva.s.ses 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 creva.s.ses on every side.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GLACIER DES BOSSONS.]

A halt was called, and Francois 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.

Francois 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 creva.s.ses on either side, the azure blue of which was more beautiful than ever. We crossed without a slip, and Francois 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 pa.s.sed 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 creva.s.ses 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, Francois 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 s.h.i.+ning 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 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 coa.r.s.e 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 pa.s.sing 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.