The Ascent Of The Matterhorn Part 2

It was a scene in keeping with the diabolical deed perpetrated here about four hundred years ago-the murder of the Vaudois of Val Louise, in the cavern which was now in sight, though high above us. Their story is very sad. Peaceful and industrious, for more than three centuries they had inhabited these retired valleys in tranquil obscurity. The Archbishops of Embrun endeavoured, though with little success, to get them within the pale of their church. Their efforts were aided by others, who commenced by imprisonments and torture,(21) and at last adopted the method of burning them by hundreds at the stake.(22)

In the year 1488, Albert Cattanee, Archdeacon of Cremona and legate of Pope Innocent VIII., would have antic.i.p.ated the barbarities which at a later date roused the indignation of Milton and the fears of Cromwell;(23) but, driven everywhere back by the Waldenses of Piedmont, he left their valleys and crossed the Mont Genevre to attack the weaker and more thinly populated valleys of the Vaudois in Dauphine. At the head of an army which is said to have been composed of vagabonds, robbers, and a.s.sa.s.sins (who had been tempted to his banner by promises of absolution beforehand, of being set free from the obligation of vows which they might have made, and by the confirmation of property to them which they might have wrongfully acquired), as well as regular troops, Cattanee poured down the valley of the Durance. The inhabitants of the Val Louise fled before a host that was ten times their number, and took up their abode in this cavern, where they had collected provisions sufficient for two years. But intolerance is ever painstaking; their retreat was discovered. Cattanee had a captain who combined the resources of a Herod to the cruelty of a Pelissier, and, lowering his men by ropes, fired piles of brushwood at the entrance to the cavern, suffocated the majority, and slew the remainder. The Vaudois were relentlessly exterminated, without distinction of age or s.e.x. More than three thousand persons, it is said, perished in this frightful ma.s.sacre; the growth of three hundred and fifty years was destroyed at one blow, and the valley was completely depopulated. Louis XII. caused it to be re-peopled, and, after another three centuries and a half, behold the result-a race of monkeys.(24)

We rested a little at a small spring, and then hastened onwards till we nearly arrived at the foot of the Sapeniere glacier, when Semiond said we must turn to the right, up the slopes. This we did, and clambered for half-an-hour through scattered firs and fallen boulders. Then evening began to close in rapidly, and it was time to look for a resting-place.

There was no difficulty in getting one, for all around there was a chaotic a.s.semblage of rocks. We selected the under side of a boulder which was more than fifty feet long by twenty high, cleared out the rubbish, and then collected wood for a fire.

I have a pleasant recollection of that camp-fire. The wine-cask had got through all its troubles; it was tapped, and the Frenchmen seemed to derive some consolation from its execrable contents. Reynaud chanted sc.r.a.ps of French songs, and each contributed his share of joke, story, or verse. The weather was perfect, and our prospects for the morrow were good. My companions' joy culminated when a packet of red fir was thrown into the flames. It hissed and bubbled for a moment or two, and then broke out into a grand flare. The effect of the momentary light was magnificent; the mountains all around were illuminated for a second, and then relapsed into their solemn gloom. One by one our party dropped off to sleep, and at last I got into my blanket-bag. It was hardly necessary, for although we were at a height of at least 7000 feet, the minimum temperature was above 40 Fahrenheit.

We roused at three, and made a start at half-past four. Giraud had been engaged as far as this rock only, but as he wished to go on, we allowed him to accompany us. We mounted the slopes and quickly got above the trees, then had a couple of hours' clambering over bits of precipitous rock and banks of debris, and, at a quarter to seven, got to a narrow glacier-Clos de l'Homme-which streamed out of the plateau on the summit, and nearly reached the glacier de Sapeniere. We worked as much as possible to the right, in hopes that we should not have to cross it, but were continually driven back, and at last we found that over we must go. Old Semiond had a strong objection to the ice, and made explorations on his own account to endeavour to avoid it; but Reynaud and I preferred to cross it, and Giraud stuck to us. It was narrow-in fact, one could throw a stone across-and it was easily mounted on the side; but in the centre swelled into a steep dome, up which we were obliged to cut. Giraud stepped forward and said he should like to try his hand, and having got hold of the axe, would not give it up; and here, as well as afterwards when it was necessary to cross the gullies filled with hard snow, which abound on the higher part of the mountain, he did all the work, and did it admirably.

Old Semiond of course came after us when we got across. We then zigzagged up some snow-slopes, and shortly afterwards commenced to ascend the interminable array of b.u.t.tresses which are the great peculiarity of the Pelvoux.(25) They were very steep in many places, yet on the whole afforded good hold, and no climbing should be called difficult which does that. Gullies abounded among them, sometimes of great length and depth.

_They_ were frequently rotten, and would have been difficult for a single man to pa.s.s. The uppermost men were continually abused for dislodging rocks and for harpooning those below with their batons. However, without these incidents the climbing would have been dull-they helped to break the monotony.

We went up chimneys and gullies by the hour together, and always seemed to be coming to something, although we never got to it. The outline sketch will help to explain the situation. We stood at the foot of a great b.u.t.tress-perhaps about 200 feet high-and looked up. It did not go to a point as in the diagram, because we could not see the top; although we felt convinced that behind the fringe of pinnacles we did see there was a top, and that _it_ was the edge of the plateau we so much desired to attain. Up we mounted, and reached the pinnacles; but, lo! another set was seen,-and another,-and yet more-till at last we reached the top, and found it was only a b.u.t.tress, and that we must descend 40 or 50 feet before we could commence to mount again. When this operation had been performed a few dozen times, it began to be wearisome, especially as we were in the dark as to our whereabouts. Semiond, however, encouraged us, and said he knew we were on the right route,-so away we went once more.

[Ill.u.s.tration: b.u.t.tRESSES OF MONT PELVOUX.]

It was now nearly mid-day, and we seemed no nearer the summit of the Pelvoux than when we started. At last we all joined together and held a council. "Semiond, old friend, do you know where we are now?" "Oh yes, perfectly, to a yard and a half." "Well, then, how much are we below this plateau?" He affirmed we were not half-an-hour from the edge of the snow.

"Very good; let us proceed." Half-an-hour pa.s.sed, and then another, but we were still in the same state,-pinnacles, b.u.t.tresses, and gullies were in profusion, but the plateau was not in sight. So we called him again-for he had been staring about latterly, as if in doubt-and repeated the question.

"How far below are we now?" Well, he thought it might be half-an-hour more. "But you said that just now; are you sure we are going right?" Yes, he believed we were. Believed! that would not do. "Are you sure we are going right for the Pic des Arcines?" "Pic des Arcines!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed in astonishment, as if he had heard the words for the first time. "Pic des Arcines; no! but for the pyramid, the celebrated pyramid he had helped the great Capitaine Durand," &c.

Here was a fix;-we had been talking about it to him for a whole day, and now he confessed he knew nothing about it. I turned to Reynaud, who seemed thunderstruck. "What did he suggest?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Well,"

we said, after explaining our minds pretty freely to Semiond, "the sooner we turn back the better, for we have no wish to see your pyramid."

We halted for an hour, and then commenced the descent. It took us nearly seven hours to come down to our rock; but I paid no heed to the distance, and do not remember anything about it. When we got down we made a discovery which affected us as much as the footprint in the sand did Robinson Crusoe: a blue silk veil lay by our fireside. There was but one explanation,-Macdonald had arrived; but where was he? We soon packed our baggage, and tramped in the dusk, through the stony desert, to Alefred, where we arrived about half-past nine. "Where is the Englishman?" was the first question. He was gone to sleep at La Ville.

We pa.s.sed that night in a hay-loft, and in the morning, after settling with Semiond, posted down to catch Macdonald. We had already determined on the plan of operation, which was to get him to join us, return, and be independent of all guides, simply taking the best man we could get as a porter. I set my heart on Giraud,-a good fellow, with no pretence, although in every respect up to the work. We were disappointed; he was obliged to go to Briancon.

The walk soon became exciting. The natives inquired the result of our expedition, and common civility obliged us to stop. But I was afraid of losing my man, for it was said he would wait only till ten o'clock, and that time was near at hand. At last I dashed over the bridge,-time from Alefred an hour and a quarter. A cantonnier stopped me, saying that the Englishman had just started for La Bessee. I rushed after him, turned angle after angle of the road, but could not see him; at last, as I came round a corner, he was also just turning another, going very fast. I shouted, and luckily he heard me. We returned, reprovisioned ourselves at La Ville, and the same evening saw us pa.s.sing our first rock, _en route_ for another. I have said we determined to take no guide; but, on pa.s.sing La p.i.s.se, old Semiond turned out and offered his services. He went well, in spite of his years and disregard of truth. "Why not take him?" said my friend. So we offered him a fifth of his previous pay, and in a few seconds he closed with the offer. This time he came in an inferior position,-we were to lead, he to follow. Our second follower was a youth of twenty-seven years, who was not all that could be desired. He drank Reynaud's wine, smoked our cigars, and quietly secreted the provisions when we were nearly starving. Discovery of his proceedings did not at all disconcert him, and he finished up by getting several items added to our bill at La Ville, which, not a little to his disgust, we disallowed.

This night we fixed our camp high above the tree-line, and indulged ourselves in the healthy employment of carrying our fuel up to it. The present rock was not so comfortable as the first, and, before we could settle down, we were obliged to turn out a large ma.s.s which was in the way. It was very obstinate, but moved at length; slowly and gently at first, then faster and faster, at last taking great jumps in the air, striking a stream of fire at every touch, which shone out brightly as it entered the gloomy valley below, and long after it was out of sight, we heard it bounding downwards, and then settle with a subdued crash on the glacier beneath. As we turned back from this curious sight, Reynaud asked if we had ever seen a torrent on fire, and told us that in the spring the Durance, swollen by the melting of the snow, sometimes brings down so many rocks that, where it pa.s.ses through a narrow gorge at La Bessee, no water whatever is seen, but only boulders rolling over and over, grinding each other into powder, and striking so many sparks that the stream looks as if it were on fire.

We had another merry evening with nothing to mar it; the weather was perfect, and we lay backward in luxurious repose, looking at the sky spangled with its ten thousand brilliant lights.

... "The ranges stood Transfigured in the silver flood, Their snows were flas.h.i.+ng cold and keen, Dead white, save where some sharp ravine Took shadow, or the sombre green Of hemlocks turned to pitchy black, Against the whiteness at their back."(26)

[Ill.u.s.tration: Portrait of the late R. J. S. Macdonald]

Macdonald related his experiences over the cafe noir. He had travelled day and night for several days in order to join us, but had failed to find our first bivouac, and had camped a few hundred yards from us under another rock, higher up the mountain. The next morning he discerned us going along a ridge at a great height above him, and as it was useless to endeavour to overtake us, he lay down and watched with a heavy heart until we had turned the corner of a b.u.t.tress, and vanished out of sight.

Nothing but the heavy breathing of our already sound asleep comrades broke the solemn stillness of the night. It was a silence to be felt. Nothing?

Hark! what is that dull booming sound above us? Is that nothing? There it is again, plainer-on it comes, nearer, clearer; 'tis a crag escaped from the heights above! What a fearful cras.h.!.+ We jump to our feet. Down it comes with awful fury; what power can withstand its violence? Dancing, leaping, flying; das.h.i.+ng against others; roaring as it descends. Ah, it has pa.s.sed! No; there it is again, and we hold our breath, as, with resistless force and explosions like artillery, it darts past, with an avalanche of shattered fragments trailing in its rear! 'Tis gone, and we breathe more freely as we hear the finale on the glacier below.(27)

We retired at last, but I was too excited to sleep. At a quarter-past four every man once more shouldered his pack and started. This time we agreed to keep more to the right, to see if it were not possible to get to the plateau without losing any time by crossing the glacier. To describe our route would be to repeat what has been said before. We mounted steadily for an hour and a half, sometimes walking, though more frequently climbing, and then found, after all, that it was necessary to cross the glacier. The part on which we struck came down a very steep slope, and was much creva.s.sed. The word creva.s.sed hardly expresses its appearance-it was a ma.s.s of formidable seracs. We found, however, more difficulty in getting on than across it; and, thanks to the rope, it was pa.s.sed in safety. Then the interminable b.u.t.tresses began again. Hour after hour we proceeded upwards, frequently at fault, and obliged to descend. The ridge behind us had sunk long ago, and we looked over it, and all others, till our eyes rested on the majestic Viso. Hour after hour pa.s.sed, and monotony was the order of the day. When twelve o'clock came we lunched, and contemplated the scene with satisfaction; all the summits in sight, with the single exception of the Viso, had given in, and we looked over an immense expanse-a perfect sea of peaks and snow-fields. Still the pinnacles rose above us, and opinions were freely uttered that we should see no summit of Pelvoux that day. Old Semiond had become a perfect bore to all; whenever one rested for a moment to look about, he would say, with a complacent chuckle, "Don't be afraid, follow me." We came at last to a very bad piece, rotten and steep, and no hold. Here Reynaud and Macdonald confessed to being tired, and talked of going to sleep. A way was discovered out of the difficulty; then some one called out, "Look at the Viso!" and we saw that we almost looked over it. We worked away with redoubled energy, and at length caught sight of the head of the glacier as it streamed out of the plateau. This gave us fresh hopes; we were not deceived; and with a simultaneous shout we greeted the appearance of our long-wished-for snows.

A large creva.s.se separated us from them; but a bridge was found; we tied ourselves in line, and moved safely over it. Directly we got across, there rose before us a fine snow-capped peak. Old Semiond cried, "The pyramid! I see the pyramid!" "Where, Semiond, where?" "There; on the top of that peak."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Outline to show route up Mont Pelvoux]

There, sure enough, was the cairn he had helped to erect more than thirty years before. Where was the Pic des Arcines which we were to see? It was nowhere visible-there was only a great expanse of snow, bordered by three lower peaks. Somewhat sadly we moved towards the pyramid, sighing that there was no other to conquer; but hardly had we gone two hundred paces, before there rose a superb white cone on the left, which had been hidden before by a slope of snow. We shouted, "The Pic des Arcines!" and inquired of Semiond if he knew whether that peak had been ascended. As for him, he knew nothing, except that the peak before us was called the pyramid, from the cairn he had, etc. etc., and that it had not been ascended since. "All right then-face about," and we immediately turned at right angles for the cone, the porter making faint struggles for his beloved pyramid. Our progress was stopped, in the sixth of a mile, by the edge of the ridge connecting the two peaks, and we perceived that it curled over in a lovely volute. We involuntarily retreated. Semiond, who was last in the line, took the opportunity to untie himself, and refused to come on; said we were running dangerous risks, and talked vaguely of creva.s.ses. We tied him up again, and proceeded. The snow was very soft; we were always knee-deep, and sometimes floundered in up to the waist; but a simultaneous jerk before and behind always released one. By this time we had arrived at the foot of the final peak. The left-hand ridge seemed easier than that upon which we stood, so we curved round to get to it. Some rocks peeped out 150 feet below the summit, and up these we crawled, leaving our porter behind, as he said he was afraid. I could not resist the temptation, as we went off, to turn round and beckon him onwards, saying, "Don't be afraid-follow me," but he did not answer to the appeal, and never went to the top. The rocks led to a short ridge of ice-our plateau on one side, and a nearly vertical precipice on the other. Macdonald cut up it, and at a quarter to two we stood shaking hands on the loftiest summit of the conquered Pelvoux.

The day still continued everything that could be desired, and, far and near, countless peaks burst into sight, without a cloud to hide them. The mighty Mont Blanc, full seventy miles away, first caught our eyes, and then, still farther off, the Monte Rosa group; while, rolling away to the east, one unknown range after another succeeded in unveiled splendour; fainter and fainter in tone, but still perfectly defined, till at last the eye was unable to distinguish sky from mountain, and they died away in the far-off horizon. Monte Viso rose up grandly, but it was less than forty miles away, and we looked over it to a hazy ma.s.s we knew must be the plains of Piedmont. Southwards a blue mist seemed to indicate the existence of the distant Mediterranean; to the west we looked over to the mountains of Auvergne. Such was the panorama; a view extending in nearly every direction for more than one hundred miles. It was with some difficulty we wrenched our eyes from the more distant objects to contemplate the nearer ones. Mont Dauphin was very conspicuous, but La Bessee was not readily perceived. Besides these places not a habitation could be seen; all was rock, snow, or ice; and, large as we knew were the snow-fields of Dauphine, we were surprised to find that they very far surpa.s.sed our most ardent imagination. Nearly in a line between us and the Viso, immediately to the south of Chateau Queyras, was a splendid group of mountains of great height. More to the south an unknown peak seemed still higher; while close to us we were astonished to discover that there was a mountain which appeared even higher than that on which we stood. At least this was my opinion; Macdonald thought that it was not so high, and Reynaud that it was much about the same elevation as our own peak.

This mountain was distant a couple of miles or so, and was separated from us by a tremendous abyss, the bottom of which we could not see. On the other side rose this mighty wall-sided peak, too steep for snow, black as night, with sharp ridges and pointed summit. We were in complete ignorance of its whereabouts, for none of us had been on the other side. We imagined that La Berarde was in the abyss at our feet, although it was in reality beyond the other mountain.(28)

We left the summit at last, and descended to the rocks and to our porter, where I boiled some water, obtained by melting snow. After we had fed, and smoked our cigars (lighted without difficulty from a common match), we found it was ten minutes past three, and high time to be off. We dashed, waded, and tumbled for twenty-five minutes through the snow, and then began the long descent of the rocks. It was nearly four o'clock, and, as it would be dark at eight, it was evident that there was no time to be lost, and we pushed on to the utmost. Nothing remarkable occurred going down. We kept rather closer to the glacier, and crossed at the same point as in the morning. Getting _off_ it was like getting _on_ it-rather awkward. Old Semiond had got over-so had Reynaud; Macdonald came next, but, as he made a long stretch to get on to a higher ma.s.s, he slipped, and would have been in the bowels of a creva.s.se in a moment had he not been tied.

It was nearly dark by the time we had crossed, yet I still hoped that we should be able to pa.s.s the night at our rock. Macdonald was not so sanguine, and he was right; for at last we found ourselves quite at fault, and wandered helplessly up and down for an hour, while Reynaud and the porter indulged in a little mutual abuse. The dreary fact, that, as we could not get down, we must stay where we were, was now quite apparent.

We were at least 10,500 feet high, and if it commenced to rain or snow, as the gathering clouds and rising wind seemed to threaten, we might be in a sore plight. We were hungry, having eaten little since 3 A.M., and a torrent we heard close at hand, but could not discover, aggravated our thirst. Semiond endeavoured to get some water from it. Although he succeeded in doing so, he was wholly unable to return, and we had to solace him by shouting at intervals through the night.

A more detestable locality for a night out of doors it is difficult to imagine. There was not shelter of any kind; it was perfectly exposed to the chilly wind which began to rise, and it was too steep to promenade.

Loose rubbly stones covered the ground, and had to be removed before we could sit with any comfort. This was an advantage, although we hardly thought so at the time, as it gave us some employment, and, after an hour's active exercise of that interesting kind, I obtained a small strip about nine feet long, on which it was possible to walk. Reynaud was furious at first, and soundly abused the porter, whose opinion as to the route down had been followed rather than that of our friend, and at last settled down to a deep dramatic despair, and wrung his hands with frantic gesture, as he exclaimed, "Oh, malheur, malheur! Oh miserables!"

Thunder commenced to growl, and lightning to play among the peaks above, and the wind, which had brought the temperature down to nearly freezing-point, began to chill us to the bones. We examined our resources.

They were six and a half cigars, two boxes of vesuvians, one-third of a pint of brandy-and-water, and half-a-pint of spirits of wine: rather scant fare for three fellows who had to get through seven hours before daylight.

The spirit-lamp was lighted, and the remaining spirits of wine, the brandy and some snow, were heated by it. It was a strong liquor, and we wished for more of it. When it was consumed, Macdonald endeavoured to dry his socks by the lamp, and then the three lay down under my plaid to pretend to sleep. Reynaud's woes were aggravated by toothache; Macdonald somehow managed to close his eyes.

The longest night must end, and ours did at last. We got down to our rock in an hour and a quarter, and found the lad not a little surprised at our absence. He said he had made a gigantic fire to light us down, and shouted with all his might; we neither saw the fire nor heard his shouts. He said we looked a ghastly crew, and no wonder; it was our fourth night out.

We feasted at our cave, and performed some very necessary ablutions. The persons of the natives are infested by certain agile creatures-rapid of motion, numerous, and voracious. It is dangerous to approach too near, and one has to study the wind, so as to get on their weather-side. In spite of all such precautions my unfortunate companion and myself were being rapidly devoured alive. We only expected a temporary lull of our tortures, for the interiors of the inns are like the exteriors of the natives, swarming with this species of animated creation.

It is said that once, when these tormentors were filled with an unanimous desire, an unsuspecting traveller was dragged bodily from his bed! This needs confirmation. One word more, and I have done with this vile subject.

We returned from our ablutions, and found the Frenchmen engaged in conversation. "Ah!" said old Semiond, "as to fleas, I don't pretend to be different to anyone else,-_I have them_." This time he certainly spoke the truth.

We got down to La Ville in good time, and luxuriated there for several days; played many games of bowls with the natives, and were invariably beaten by them. At last it was necessary to part, and I walked to Abries, by way of Mont Dauphin and the gorge of the Guil towards Monte Viso, while Macdonald went to Briancon.

I have not attempted to conceal that the ascent of Mont Pelvoux is of a rather monotonous character; the view from its summit can, however, be confidently recommended. A glance at a map will show that, with the single exception of the Viso, whose position is unrivalled, it is better situated than any other mountain of considerable height for viewing the whole of the Western Alps.

Our discovery that the peak which is to be called the Pointe des Ecrins was a separate and distinct mountain from Mont Pelvoux-and not its highest point-gave us satisfaction, although it was also rather of the nature of a disappointment.

On our return to La Bessee we wrongly identified it with the peak which is seen from thence to the left of the Pelvoux. The two mountains bear a considerable resemblance to each other, so the mistake is not, perhaps, unpardonable. Although the latter mountain is one that is considerably higher than the Wetterhorn or Monte Viso, it has no name; we called it the Pic Sans Nom.

It has been observed by others that it is improbable the French surveyors should have remained for several days upon the Pic de la Pyramide without visiting the other and loftier summit. If they did, it is strange that they did not leave some memorial of their visit. The natives who accompanied them a.s.serted that they did not pa.s.s from one to the other; we therefore claimed to have made the ascent of the loftiest point for the first time. The claim, however, cannot be sustained, on account of the ascent of M. Puiseux. It is a matter of little moment; the excursion had for us all the interest of a first ascent; and I look back upon this, my first serious mountain scramble, with more satisfaction, and with as much pleasure as upon any that is recorded in this volume.

A few days later, I left Abries to seek a quiet bundle of hay at Le Chalp-a village some miles nearer to the Viso. On approaching the place, the odour of sanct.i.ty became distinctly perceptible; and on turning a corner the cause was manifested-there was the priest of the place, surrounded by some of his flock. I advanced humbly, hat in hand, but almost before a word could be said, he broke out with, "Who are you?"

"What are you?" "What do you want?" I endeavoured to explain. "You are a deserter; I know you are a deserter; go away, you can't stay here; go to Le Monta, down there; I won't have you here," and he literally drove me away. The explanation of his strange behaviour was, that Piedmontese soldiers who were tired of the service had not unfrequently crossed the Col de la Traversette into the valley, and trouble had arisen from harbouring them. However, I did not know this at the time, and was not a little indignant that I, who was marching to the attack, should be taken for a deserter.

So I walked away, and shortly afterwards, as it was getting dark, encamped in a lovely hole-a cavity or kind of basin in the earth, with a stream on one side, a rock to windward, and some broken fir branches close at hand.

Nothing could be more perfect: rock, hole, wood, and water. After making a roaring fire, I nestled in my blanket bag (an ordinary blanket sewn up double round the legs, with a piece of elastic riband round the open end), and slept, but not for long. I was troubled with dreams of the Inquisition; the tortures were being applied-priests were forcing fleas down my nostrils and into my eyes-and with red-hot pincers were taking out bits of flesh, and then cutting off my ears and tickling the soles of my feet. This was too much; I yelled a great yell and awoke, to find myself covered with innumerable crawling bodies. They were ants; I had camped by an ant-hill, and, after making its inhabitants mad with the fire, had coolly lain down in their midst.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BLANKET BAG.]

The night was fine, and as I settled down in more comfortable quarters, a brilliant meteor sailed across full 60 of the cloudless sky, leaving a trail of light behind which lasted for several seconds. It was the herald of a splendid spectacle. Stars fell by hundreds; and not dimmed by intervening vapours, they sparkled with greater brightness than Sirius in our damp climate.