A VISIT TO THE SUMMIT OF MONT BLANC, BY CAPTAIN MARKHAM SHERWILL, 25th, 26th, and 27th of August, 1825. In Letters addressed to a Friend, by Captain Markham Sherwill. [The following narrative will doubtless be read with a degree of interest equal to that which was excited by the former account of the same ascent; and our readers, we think, will regard, with curiosity, the different effects produced by the same scenes on the minds of the two writers.] LETTER I. MY DEAR FRIEND,-When I quitted you for a second ramble through Switzerland and Savoy, the intention of ascending Mont Blanc had certainly never entered into my remote speculation, and much less into the plan of my proceedings. Yet as you have frequently requested to con over the notes of my summer's excursion, and I have nothing just now more interesting to send you, I am induced to select a few short memoranda of that ascent for your amusement. On the 22d of August, 1825, I left Geneva with a friend, having determined to visit the valley of Chamouni before making an excursion to the Oberland. Passing through Bonneville and Sallenche, we slept the first evening at St. Gervais. The Hotel de Montjoie, in the village of St. Gervais, we found exceedingly agreeable, and strongly recommend it: the traveller will find comfortable rooms, great cleanliness, good and reasonable fare, and, in Madame Rosset, a very obliging agreeable hostess. From this inn, moreover, you get a charming view of the mountains with the Aiguille de Varens and the Cime des Fours, soaring to near one thousand four hundred toises above the level of the sea. We continued our route to Chamouni, only staying to visit the beautiful Cascade de Chêde; and, immediately on reaching the Hotel de l'Union, endeavoured to see Marie Coutet, one of the guides. Next morning, Coutet went with me to visit the Mer de Glace, and the source of the Arveron. In the course of this walk, he mentioned to me that there was then at Chamouni a young English physician who was preparing to ascend Mont Blanc alone, having hitherto in vain sought for a companion. Coutet said he had consented to go, and strongly pressed me to be of the party. Without any very strong intention of making the attempt, I was induced to ask a good many questions about the practicability of the thing. As we sat on a large block of granite near the source of the Arveron, a mass of ice suddenly slipped from the Glacier des Bois, and fell with thundering roar, loudly reverberating along the sides of La Flecière. As I was strongly expressing my admiration and pleasure, Coutet said with a smile, "Ah! Monsieur ! ce n'est rien! pour voir les avalanches il faut vaincre le Mont Blanc !" I rose from my granite seat half resolved on the attempt, and we returned to the hotel. Having obtained an interview with Dr. Clark, I expressed my wish to join in the expedition, and was immediately relieved from all embarrassment by the kind manner with which my propositions were received. We talked the matter over, and held farther consultations with Coutet. It was now about four o'clock on Wednesday the 24th of August, and it was equally Dr. Clark's wish and my own to leave the hotel before dawn, that we might avoid the disagreeable heat. The thermometer was then at seventy degrees Fahrenheit, and had varied from seventy to eighty degrees during the last few days. But as two more guides were to be hired and more provisions to be cooked, it was declared impossible that we should set out before six o'clock next morning. While Coutet was busy in preparing food, ropes, warm clothes, &c. we were equally busy in selecting the proper number of efficient guides to accompany us. The following seven, after some difficulty, were engaged. 1. Joseph Marie Coutet, son of Coutet, who accompanied Monsieur de Saussure he had been to the summit six times, and failed in four other attempts. 2. Pierre Tairraz, the younger, up once, aged thirty-nine, and single. 3. Simeon Devouassou, up once, aged thirty, married. 4. Julien Devouassou, brother of the above, never up, married, aged thirty-six. 5. Simon Tournier, never up, single, aged twenty-eight. 6. Michel Devouassou, never been up, married, aged twenty-five. 7. Pierre Joseph Simond, never been up, married, aged thirty-six. Thursday, 25th August, 1825.-I awoke early in the morning, and soon made myself ready for our undertaking. It will be seen by the above list of guides, that five of the seven were married men. It was of course very natural they should take more time, in bidding to their wives and children an affectionate farewell, in a case like the present, than if they were merely going to the Tête Noir, or Col de Balme; and the single men might possibly have friends to whom a tender adieu was equally requisite. It was therefore seven o'clock when Dr. Clark and myself mounted our mules. The guides had each a knapsack containing provisions, wine, &c., and over their shoulders were slung ropes, hatchets, and poles, all necessary implements to storm the lofty citadel. The summer having been very propitious for the visitors to Chamouni, the number of strangers was scarcely ever known to have been greater, and nearly every one was on the alert to see us depart. Indeed, many accompanied us over the bridge opposite the inn, and continued with us some little way along the valley to the right, in the direction of the small hamlet called "Les Pelerins,” where we arrived in about half an hour at the house of Coutet, our principal guide. Here we remained some short time, while we gave directions to his brother at what hours he was to take notes of the variations in the barometer and thermometer during our absence; for Coutet is well provided with these instruments, which he has received as presents from various English gentlemen with whom he has travelled over the adjacent mountains, in testimony of their approbation of his amiable manners and good conduct. The barometer which we took with us was a very good one, made in Geneva, of a construction capable of marking a great depression of the mercury; and at Les Pelerins it stood at twenty-five inches, one line and onetenth. The thermometer marked fourteen degrees Reaumur. The valley of Chamouni is about 337 French toises above the level of the Lake of Geneva, consequently 524 toises above the Mediterranean Sea. Having made our final arrangements, we re-mounted our mules, and began to ascend the foot of the south-west end of the Montanvert, traversing a forest of dark pines, between which we occasionally saw the lofty columns of the Glacier de Bossons, or Buissons, distant about twenty or thirty paces from us, on our right hand, "Midst fearful sights, Of pines uprooted by the blast; the rush gra We continued to wind along a serpentine path, amid large blocks of nite, which are continually rolling down from what the guides call les Moraines," that is, the vast heaps of sand and stones on either side of the Glacier, whose devastating march carries with it immense blocks of stones from the various adjacent peaks. No one should quit the valley of Chamouni without visiting and crossing the Glacier des Bossons, about half an hour's walk above the hamlet of Les Pelerins; it is somewhat difficult for ladies, but I have crossed it with two, who were remarkably good walkers, and we descended on the side nearest to the Glacier de Tacconai. We could not help remarking, as we continued to ascend the difficult and narrow path, how cheerful the guides appeared; they were all in eager conversation on trivial subjects, wholly unconnected with the arduous expedition they had to encounter. Towards nine o'clock, we arrived at the Châlet de la Part, a single hut, where, as is usual in these mountain cottages, cows and goats are housed for the night:-they generally consist of one room divided by a low partition; in one half of it the cheese is made from the animals which occupy the other apartment. The man or woman, who may have the charge of the whole, sleeps on a kind of shelf. Pails, presses, sieves, boilers, &c. &c. are among the accessories of these lightly built châlets. We found a girl of about eighteen years of age in this hut, busily employed in making cheeses; she was surprised to see so large a party in so unfrequented a spot, but kindly gave us some delicious goat's milk; her countenance was naturally agreeable, and she was evidently desirous to give us any thing her humble abode could afford. We shook her heartily by the hand, and she bade us good-b'ye with many kind wishes that we might return safely: we mounted our mules, and continued our route. Immediately on quitting this Châlet de la Part, we saw a fine reservoir through which a mountain streamlet ran. Here large tin cans of milk and cream were kept sheltered from the rays of a scorching sun: it was about five feet square, rudely built of irregular stones, but sufficiently united to retain from two to three feet of water. The mountains on the opposite side of the valley began to diminish, L'Aiguille de Varens above the village of St. Martin was visible. The valley of Chamouni now lay at our feet, in which we could distinctly see the cottages without the aid of our glasses. The path became very rugged and difficult, until we arrived at a large rock called "La pierre pointue," where we dismounted from our mules at ten o'clock: these were re-conducted to Chamouni by a ruddy-cheeked girl, to whom we gave a note or two, written in pencil, to our friends whom we had left at the inn. Our mules having hitherto carried some of our luggage, we halted a short time that the guides might arrange it. Coutet, with the aid of his telescope, distinctly saw persons on the summit of Mont Breven, across the valley, and directly opposite to us. Some one of that party had hoisted a white hat on a pole, as a signal of salutation, which we returned. We afterwards learned, that thirty persons had been on the top of Mont Brever, which is 1306 toises above the sea, in order to observe our progress. We now began to traverse on foot some very rugged places, where vegetation had nearly ceased, though still a few of the Alpine plants were to be found in sheltered crevices of the barren rocks. On turning round the brow of the mountain, we discovered a herd of goats scattered above and below us, which belonged to the Châlet de la Part; but no bird, or living thing else, was there. Our path lay at the edge of a precipice which appeared somewhat dangerous to pass, for the roaring water was about 1500 feet below us, and issued from a part of the Glacier des Bossons, which we were now fast approaching. Considerable quantities of loose stones, chiefly of granite, of which these mountains are composed, impeded us very much; we suddenly lost all the former appearances of a path, which was merely a track made by the goats, and marked by vegetation. We were probably between six and seven thousand feet above the valley, and nearly on a level with the Mont Breven. After climbing a considerable ascent, we reached what is termed "La pierre de l'Echelle" at eleven o'clock, and immediately repeated the signal to our friends on the Breven, whom, with Coutet's excellent glass, we could see to be numerous. We soon made preparations for a substantial breakfast; and placing ourselves behind the great stone called "La pierre de l'Echelle," we felt great security from the avalanches, which fall hereabouts continually from the lower parts of the Aiguille du Midi. This stone is of granite, of about fifty feet perpendicular height, and seems well secured and supported. At this spot we found the porters who had preceded us with a part of the baggage, in order to lessen the weight of the guides. We remained at this breakfast-place an hour, and just before we renewed our march, Dr. Clark and I felt the pulses of several of the guides, and found them to vary from eighty-four to one hundred and four pulsations in a minute, but my own was as high as one hundred and eight, and this after we had rested an hour. During our repast, Coutet entertained us with several mountain anecdotes, and related very circumstantially the fatal attempt to ascend Mont Blanc in 1820, when three of the guides who accompa nied Dr. Hamel were swept away by an avalanche, and have never since been found. Coutet was himself of the same party, and was driven by the snow into the same deep crevice where his companions were killed, but not being so immediately in the main body of the avalanche, he was extricated after having been an hour and half a prisoner in the gulph. In another expedition, he was overtaken by a fall of rocks and stones, when both his legs were badly broken in various places. In a third excursion, many of his fingers suffered, and bear to this day evident marks of the accident he encountered. I mention these facts to prove the undaunted courage and perseverance of Coutet, who persists in his office of guide from a natural and innate love of a mountain life, more than from a love of gain; for he could earn a very good livelihood from his ability and adroitness in cutting and polishing pebbles, &c. Before we quitted La pierre de l'Echelle, one of the guides fired a pistol, there being a remarkable repetition of an echo at that spot; but our attention was more attracted by the sudden appearance of four white ptarmigans, or rock grouse, "Tetrao Lagopus" of Linnæus, a feather of which I was enabled to secure. Every thing being once more in readiness, we bade adieu to the porters who were to descend; we shook each other heartily by the hand, and threw aside all distinction; we were all brothers in one pursuit, and determined to proceed as far as prudence and safety would permit. The guides now obliged us to hurry during a quarter of an hour, and to proceed without the least noise, lest we should be surprised on our rugged way by the fall of an avalanche. These, I have before stated, occur very frequently at this spot, and it is ascertained that a sudden concussion or vibration of the air will certainly set in motion those which are ready to fall. It was very fortunate that we proceeded thus cautiously at this place, as will be seen a little farther on in the narrative. By one o'clock we arrived at the edge of the Glacier des Bossons, the first snow and ice we had to encounter; and having added to our shoes the necessary spikes, or crampons, we ouce again set forward. Two guides preceded us, and kept generally in advance about twenty or thirty paces, to reconnoitre and point out the most practicable line of march; two more followed in the same track; Dr. Clark and his guide came next; I followed with mine, and one brought up the rear. The height calculated at which snow ceases to melt,, is about 1400 toises, but this must vary according to the situation of the mountain. If the actual height of a mountain is 1400 toises, or even a little more, the snows will wholly disappear, if the season is such as the last proved to be: for the Aiguille de Varens, and la Cime des Fours near Sallenche, having no higher mountain immediately near them, so that they have not a continued cold air blowing on them, I found to be totally free from snow this summer. If, however, a mountain is 1400 toises high, and has still more lofty ones all round it, certainly the snow will not melt, whatever the heat of the summer may be. On ascending the Glacier des Bossons, we found what may fairly be termed eternal snow, and though we had not yet accomplished 1400 toises, yet the surrounding mountains being so considerably higher, cause the snow to remain without change except during an hour or two in the hottest days. The day was remarkably fine, some light clouds were hovering around the summit of Mont Blanc, but they indicated good weather. The opposite mountains were clear; we could distinguish the rivulet which feeds the Cascade de Chêde near that village; and many of the higher peaks of the range of hills above Sallenche were distinct, as well as Mont Buet. On proceeding over the terrific Glacier des Bossons, strict injunctions were given to us by the guides, not to deviate from the track of the two leading men, who continued to sound the snow with their poles before they set their feet down. The utmost caution and prudence are necessary in this respect; for in a thousand places over which we passed, we found nothing to walk on but an overhanging drift, or shelf of snow, which partially hid from our view caverns and crevices of from one hundred to two hundred feet deep. In case the first guide should suddenly fall into one of these depths, the object of the rope by which he is affixed to the second is apparent; for he, being in advance eight or ten paces, would immediately be held up by the other, until sufficient aid could be afforded by the whole party to save him from destruction. We therefore conti nued in a single line, following the footsteps of our foremost man. These drifts of overhanging snow are denominated bridges by the guides; but in many cases they do not allow more than one person to cross them at a time, as the additional weight of a second might destroy the ridge, and thus cut off the communication of the party at least for a considerable time. Your pole is your only support, a slow and steady step essential, and your eye must carefully guide your foot, never varying your step from the track the leading guides have made. We continued to cross this majestic though frightful glacier during four hours. Occasionally we were detained a quarter of an hour, and oftentimes more, standing in the snow nearly up to our knees, while the foremost guides were actively employed in cutting steps with the hatchet in the almost perpendicular walls of ice. These walls are, in fact, the sides of the crevices in the glaciers, such as you must remember to have seen in the Mer de Glace; but the Mer de Glace, compared to the rugged chasms and crevices of the Glacier des Bossons, is scarcely rougher than a plain gravel walk, or a frozen pond. Our difficulties encreased as we continued to advance on this fearful glacier. The crevices became considerably wider than we had hitherto found them, and the irregularities on the surface of the ice very troublesome and perplexing. These crevices presented themselves at every twenty or thirty paces; and often the narrow walls of ice which divided them were so slippery, that it required the utmost care and caution to walk along their edge. The depth of them we could not at all times measure, except in cases where we descended into them, in order to avoid a long circuitous route, which might have terminated in similar difficulties: in such a case, after descending we mounted the opposite wall. The deeper we found the crevices, the darker was the shade of green which we observed in the ice; and particularly, in looking into the arched caverns, we noticed that the colour was still darker. The elegance and beauty which Nature has given to these regions no pen, no pencil can pourtray; nor can the mind easily imagine them. In real truth, how is it possible to describe objects which have no resemblance to any thing else we see in the daily course of life? It is not possible to convey to you a just idea of the sensations I experienced on viewing beauties and horrors thus closely combined. The contrast of the spotless white of the snows, for nothing exists in these regions to soil them, with the dark and sombre colour of the surrounding peaks and pinnacles, has no equal: the constant rushing of the waters in hidden channels beneath our feet, the purity of the air, the cloudless sky and brilliant sun which favoured us, and gave to every object an extraordinary vivacity,-all these lent their aid to heighten the magnificence of the scene. It would be a very great pleasure to me if I could give you a just description of the caverns of ice, many of which we passed in our second day's journey over the Glacier des Bossons. Their entrance is adorned with the largest and strongest icicles I ever saw, some twenty, some thirty feet long, and thick in proportion, with smaller ones projecting from their sides; they are pure as the brightest crystal. These icicles hang from the top and arched entrance of the caverns; and when the sun has sufficient power to melt a small quantity of the finer Dec.-VOL. XVII. NO. LXXII. 2 N |