# Scrambles amongst the Alps/Chapter 11

CHAPTER XI.
PASSAGE OF THE COL DE TRIOLET, AND ASCENTS OF MONT DOLENT, AIGUILLE DE TRÉLATÊTE, AND AIGUILLE D'ARGENTIÈRE.
"Nothing binds men so closely together as agreement in plans and desires."
Cicero.
Ten years ago very few persons knew from personal knowledge how extremely inaccurately the chain of Mont Blanc was delineated. During the previous half-century thousands had made the tour of the chain, and in that time at least one thousand individuals had stood upon its highest summit; but out of all this number there was not one capable, willing, or able, to map the mountain which, until recently, was regarded the highest in Europe.
Many persons knew that great blunders had been perpetrated, and it was notorious that even Mont Blanc itself was represented in a ludicrously incorrect manner on all sides excepting the north; but there was not, perhaps, a single individual who knew, at the time to which I refer, that errors of no less than 1000 feet had been committed in the determination of heights at each end of the chain; that some glaciers were represented of double their real dimensions; and that ridges and mountains were laid down which actually had no existence.
One portion alone of the entire chain had been surveyed at the time of which I speak with anything like accuracy. It was not done (as one would have expected) by a Government, but by a private individual,—by the British De Saussure,—the late J. D. Forbes. In the year 1842, he "made a special survey of the ​Mer de Glace of Chamounix and its tributaries, which, in some of the following years, he extended by further observations, so as to include the Glacier des Bossons." The map produced from this survey was worthy of its author; and subsequent explorers of the region he investigated have been able to detect only trivial inaccuracies in his work.
The district surveyed by Forbes remained a solitary bright spot in a region where all besides was darkness until the year 1861. Praiseworthy attempts were made by different hands to throw light upon the gloom, but the efforts were ineffectual, and showed how labour may be thrown away by a number of observers working independently, without the direction of a single head.
In 1861, Sheet xxii. of Dufour's Map of Switzerland appeared. It included the section of the chain of Mont Blanc that belonged to Switzerland, and this portion of the sheet was executed with the admirable fidelity and thoroughness which characterise the whole of Dufour's unique map. The remainder of the chain (amounting to about four-fifths of the whole) was laid down after the work of previous topographers, and its wretchedness was made more apparent by contrast with the finished work of the Swiss surveyors.
Strong hands were needed to complete the survey, and it was not long before the right men appeared.
In 1863, Mr. Adams-Reilly, who had been travelling in the Alps during several years, resolved to attempt a survey of the unsurveyed portions of the chain of Mont Blanc. He provided himself with a good theodolite, and starting from a base-line measured by Forbes in the Valley of Chamounix, determined the positions of no less than 200 points. The accuracy of his work may be judged from the fact that, after having turned many corners and carried his observations over a distance of fifty, miles, his Col Ferret "fell within 200 yards of the position assigned to it by General Dufour!"
In the winter of 1863 and the spring of 1864, Mr. Reilly constructed an entirely original map from his newly-acquired data. The spaces between his trigonometrically-determined points he ​filled in after photographs, and a series of panoramic sketches which he made from his different stations. The map so produced was an immense advance upon those already in existence, and it was the first which exhibited the great peaks in their proper positions.
This extraordinary piece of work revealed Mr. Reilly to me as a man of wonderful determination and perseverance. With very small hope that my proposal would be accepted, I invited him to take part in renewed attacks on the Matterhorn. He entered heartily into my plans, and met me with a counter-proposition, namely, that I should accompany him on some expeditions which he had projected in the chain of Mont Blanc. The unwritten contract took this form:—I will help you to carry out your desires, and you shall assist me to carry out mine. I eagerly closed with an arrangement in which all the advantages were upon my side.
At the time that Mr. Reilly was carrying on his survey, Captain Mieulet was executing another in continuation of the great map of France; for about one-half of the chain of Mont Blanc (including the whole of the Valley of Chamounix) had recently become French once more. Captain Mieulet was directed to survey up to his frontier only, and the sheet which was destined to include his work was to be engraved, of course, upon the scale of the rest of the map, viz., $\scriptstyle {\frac {1}{80000}}$ of nature. But upon representations being made at head-quarters that it would be of great advantage to extend the survey as far as Cormayeur, Captain Mieulet was directed to continue his observations into the south (or Italian) side of the chain. A special sheet on the scale of $\scriptstyle {\frac {1}{40000}}$ was promptly engraved from the materials he accumulated, and was published in 1865, by order of the late Minister of War, Marshal Randon. This sheet was admirably executed, but it included the central portion of the chain only, and a complete map was still wanting.
Mr. Reilly presented his MS. map to the English Alpine Club. It was resolved that it should be published; but before it passed ​into the engraver's hands its author undertook to revise it carefully. To this end he planned a number of expeditions to high points which up to that time had been regarded inaccessible, and it was upon some of these ascents he invited me to accompany him.
Before I pass on to these expeditions (which will be described very briefly, as I hope that Mr. Reilly himself will publish an account of his remarkable explorations), it will be convenient to devote a few paragraphs to the topography of the chain of Mont Blanc.
At the present time the chain is divided betwixt France, Switzerland, and Italy. France has the lion's share, Switzerland the most fertile portion, and Italy the steepest side. It has acquired a reputation which is not extraordinary, but which is not wholly merited. It has neither the beauty of the Oberland, nor the sublimity of Dauphiné. But it attracts the vulgar by the possession of the highest summit in the Alps. If that is removed, the elevation of the chain is in nowise remarkable. In fact, excluding Mont Blanc itself, the mountains of which the chain is made up are less important than those of the Oberland and the central Pennine groups. The following table will afford a ready means of comparison. ​
| | | | | | | | Mètres | | Eng. feet. |
| 1. | Mont Blanc | Mont Blanc | Mont Blanc | Mont Blanc | Mont Blanc | Mont Blanc | 4810 | = | 15,781 |
| 2. | Grandes Jorasses | Grandes Jorasses | Grandes Jorasses | Grandes Jorasses | Grandes Jorasses | Grandes Jorasses | 4206 | . | 13,800 |
| 3. | Aiguille | Verte | Verte | Verte | Verte | Verte | 4127 | . | 13,540 |
| 4. | " | de Bionnassay | de Bionnassay | de Bionnassay | de Bionnassay | de Bionnassay | 4061 | . | 13,324 |
| 5. | Les Droites | Les Droites | Les Droites | Les Droites | Les Droites | Les Droites | 4030 | . | 13,222 |
| 6. | Aiguille | du Géant | du Géant | du Géant | du Géant | du Géant | 4010 | . | 13,157 |
| 7. | " | de Trélatête, | No. | 1 | | | 3932 | . | 12,900 |
| | " | " | " | 2 | | | 3904 | . | 12,809 |
| | " | " | " | 3 | | | 3896 | . | 12,782 |
| 8. | " | d'Argentière | d'Argentière | d'Argentière | d'Argentière | d'Argentière | 3901 | . | 12,799 |
| 9. | " | du Triolet | du Triolet | du Triolet | du Triolet | du Triolet | 3879 | . | 12,726 |
| 10. | " | du Midi | du Midi | du Midi | du Midi | du Midi | 3843 | . | 12,608 |
| 11. | " | du Glacier | du Glacier | du Glacier | du Glacier | du Glacier | 3834 | . | 12,579 |
| 12. | Mont Dolent | Mont Dolent | Mont Dolent | Mont Dolent | Mont Dolent | Mont Dolent | 3830 | . | 12,566 |
| 13. | Aiguille | du Chardonnet | du Chardonnet | du Chardonnet | du Chardonnet | du Chardonnet | 3823 | . | 12,543 |
| 14. | " | du Dru | du Dru | du Dru | du Dru | du Dru | 3815 | . | 12,517 |
| 15. | " | de Miage | de Miage | de Miage | de Miage | de Miage | 3680 | . | 12,074 |
| 16. | " | du Plan | du Plan | du Plan | du Plan | du Plan | 3673 | . | 12,051 |
| 17. | " | de Blatière | de Blatière | de Blatière | de Blatière | de Blatière | 3533 | . | 11,591 |
| 18. | " | des Charmoz | des Charmoz | des Charmoz | des Charmoz | des Charmoz | 3442 | . | 11,293 |
The frontier-line follows the main ridge. Very little of it can be seen from the Valley of Chamounix, and from the village itself two small strips only are visible (amounting to scarcely three miles in length), viz. from the summit of Mont Blanc to the Dôme du Goûter, and in the neighbourhood of the Col de Balme. All the rest is concealed by outlying ridges and by mountains of secondary importance.
Mont Blanc itself is bounded by the two glaciers of Miage, the glaciers de la Brenva and du Géant, the Val Veni and the Valley of Chamounix. A long ridge runs out towards the N.N.E. from the summit, through Mont Maudit, to the Aiguille du Midi. Another ridge proceeds towards the N.W., through the Bosse du Dromadaire to the Dome du Goûter; this then divides into two, of which one continues N.W. to the Aiguille du Goûter, the other ​(which is a part of the main ridge of the chain) towards the W. to the Aiguille de Bionnassay. The two routes which are commonly followed for the ascent of Mont Blanc lie between these two principal ridges—one leading from Chamounix, viâ the Grands Mulets, the other from the village of Bionnassay, viâ the Aiguille and Dôme du Goûter.
The ascent of Mont Blanc has been made from several directions besides these, and perhaps there is no single point of the compass from which the mountain cannot be ascended. But there is not the least probability that any one will discover easier ways to the summit than those already known.
I believe it is correct to say that the Aiguille du Midi and the Aiguille de Miage were the only two summits in the chain of Mont Blanc which had been ascended at the beginning of 1864. The latter of these two is a perfectly insignificant point; and the former is only a portion of one of the ridges just now mentioned, and can hardly be regarded as a mountain separate and distinct from Mont Blanc. The really great peaks of the chain were considered inaccessible, and, I think, with the exception of the Aiguille Verte, had never been assailed.
The finest, as well as the highest peak in the chain (after Mont Blanc itself), is the Grandes Jorasses. The next, without a doubt, is the Aiguille Verte. The Aiguille de Bionnassay, which in actual height follows the Verte, should be considered as a part of Mont Blanc; and in the same way the summit called Les Droites is only a part of the ridge which culminates in the Verte. The Aiguille de Trélatête is the next on the list that is entitled to be considered a separate mountain, and is by far the most important peak (as well as the highest) at the south-west end of the chain. Then comes the Aiguille d'Argentiere, which occupies the same rank at the north-east end as the last-mentioned mountain does in the south-west. The rest of the aiguilles are comparatively insignificant; and although some of them (such as the Mont ​Dolent) look well from low elevations, and seem to possess a certain importance, they sink into their proper places directly one arrives at a considerable altitude.
The summit of the Aiguille Verte would have been one of the best stations out of all these mountains for the purposes of my friend. Its great height, and its isolated and commanding position, make it a most admirable point for viewing the intricacies of the chain; but he exercised a wise discretion in passing it by, and in selecting as our first excursion the passage of the Col de Triolet.
We slept under some big rocks on the Couvercle on the night of July 7, with the thermometer at 26°5 Faht., and at 4°30 on the 8th made a straight track to the north of the Jardin, and thence went in zigzags, to break the ascent, over the upper slopes of the Glacier de Talèfre towards the foot of the Aiguille de Triolet. Croz was still my guide, Reilly was accompanied by one of the Michel Payots of Chamounix, and Henri Charlet, of the same place, was our porter.
The way was over an undulating plain of glacier of moderate inclination until the corner leading to the Col, from whence a steep secondary glacier led down into the basin of the Talèfre. We experienced no difficulty in making the ascent of this secondary glacier with such ice-men as Croz and Payot, and at 7.50 a.m. arrived on the top of the so-called pass, at a height, according to Mieulet, of 12,162 feet, and 4530 above our camp on the Couvercle.
The descent was commenced by very steep, but firm, rocks, and then by a branch of the Glacier de Triolet. Schrundst were abundant; there were no less than five extending completely across the glacier, all of which had to be jumped. Not one was equal in dimensions to the extraordinary chasm on the Col de Pilatte, but ​in the aggregate they far surpassed it. "Our lives," so Reilly expressed it, "were made a burden to us with schrunds."
Several spurs run out towards the south-east from the ridge at the head of the Glacier de Triolet, and divide it into a number of bays. We descended the most northern of these, and when we emerged from it on to the open glacier, just at the junction of our bay with the next one, there we came across a most beautiful ice-arch, festooned with icicles, the decaying remnant of an old serac, which stood, isolated, full 30 feet above the surface of the glacier! It was an accident, and I have not seen its like elsewhere. When I passed the spot in 1865 no vestige of it remained.
We flattered ourselves that we should arrive at the chalets of Prè du Bar very early in the day; but, owing to much time being lost on the slopes of Mont Eouge, it was nearly 4 p.m. before we got to them. There were no bridges across the torrent nearer than Gruetta, and rather than descend so far, we preferred to round the base of Mont Rouge, and to cross the snout of the Glacier du Mont Dolent.
We occupied the 9th with the ascent of the Mont Dolent. This was a miniature ascent. It contained a little of everything. First we went up to the Col Ferret (No. 1), and had a little grind over shaly banks; then there was a little walk over grass; then a little tramp over a moraine (which, strange to say, gave a pleasant path); then a little zigzagging over the snow-covered glacier of Mont Dolent. Then there was a little bergschrund; then a little wall of snow,—which we mounted by the side of a little buttress; and when we struck the ridge descending S.E. from the summit, we found a little arête of snow leading to the highest point. The summit itself was little,—very small indeed; it was the loveliest little cone of snow that was ever piled up on mountain-top; so ​soft, so pure; it seemed a crime to defile it; it was a miniature Jungfrau, a toy summit, you could cover it with the hand.
But there was nothing little about the view from the Mont Dolent. [Situated at the junction of three mountain ridges, it rises in a positive steeple far above anything in its immediate neighbourhood; and certain gaps in the surrounding ridges, which seem contrived for that especial purpose, extend the view in almost every direction. The precipices which descend to the Glacier d'Argentiere I can only compare to those of the Jungfrau, and the ridges on both sides of that glacier, especially the steep rocks of Les Droites and Les Courtes, surmounted by the sharp snow-peak of the Aig. Verte, have almost the effect of the Grandes Jorasses. Then, framed, as it were, between the massive tower of the Aig. de Triolet and the more distant Jorasses, lies, without exception, the most delicately beautiful picture I have ever seen—the whole massif of Mont Blanc, raising its great head of snow far above the tangled series of flying buttresses which uphold the Monts Maudits, supported on the left by Mont Peuteret and by the mass of ragged aiguilles which overhang the Brenva. This aspect of Mont Blanc is not new, but from this point its pose is unrivalled, and it has all the superiority of a picture grouped by the hand of a master. . . . The view is as extensive, and far more lovely than that from Mont Blanc itself.]
We went down to Cormayeur, and on the afternoon of July 10 started from that place to camp on Mont Sue, for the ascent of the Aiguille de Trélatête; hopeful that the mists which were hanging about would clear away. They did not, so we deposited ourselves, and a vast load of straw, on the moraine of the Miage Glacier, just above the Lac de Combal, in a charming little hole which some solitary shepherd had excavated beneath a great slab of rock. We spent the night there, and the whole of the next day, unwilling ​to run away, and equally so to get into difficulties by venturing into the mist. It was a dull time, and I grew restless. Reilly read to me a lecture on the excellence of patience, and composed himself in an easy attitude, to pore over the pages of a yellow-covered book. "Patience," I said to him viciously, "comes very easily to fellows who have shilling novels; but I have not got one; I have picked all the mud out of the nails of my boots, and have skinned my face; what shall I do?" "Go and study the moraine of the Miage," said he. I went, and came back after an hour. "What news?" cried Reilly, raising himself on his elbow. "Very little; it's a big moraine, bigger than I thought, with ridge outside ridge, like a fortified camp; and there are walls upon it which have been built and loop-holed, as if for defence. "Try again," he said, as he threw himself on his back. But I went to Croz, who was asleep, and tickled his nose with a straw until he awoke; and then, as that amusement was played out, watched Reilly, who was getting numbed, and shifted uneasily from side to side, and threw himself on his stomach, and rested his head on his elbows, and lighted his pipe and puffed at it savagely. When I looked again, how was Reilly? An indistinguishable heap; arms, legs, head, stones, and straw, all mixed together, his hat flung on one side, his novel tossed far away! Then I went to him, and read him a lecture on the excellence of patience.
Bah! it was a dull time. Our mountain, like a beautiful coquette, sometimes unveiled herself for a moment, and looked charming above, although ​very mysterious below. It was not until eventide she allowed us to approach her; then, as darkness came on, the curtains were withdrawn, the light drapery was lifted, and we stole up on tiptoe through the grand portal framed by Mont Sue. But night advanced rapidly, and we found ourselves left out in the cold, without a hole to creep into or shelter from overhanging rock. We might have fared badly, except for our good plaids. But when they were
sewn together down their long edges, and one end tossed over our rope (which was passed round some rocks), and the other secured by stones, there was sufficient protection; and we slept on this exposed ridge, 9700 feet above the level of the sea, more soundly, perhaps, than if we had been lying on feather beds.
* OUR CAMP ON MONT SUC.
We left our bivouac at 4.45 a.m., and at 9.40 arrived upon the ​highest of the three summits of the Trélatête, by passing over the lowest one. It was well above everything at this end of the chain, and the view from it was extraordinarily magnificent. The whole of the western face of Mont Blanc was spread out before us; we were the first by whom it had been ever seen. I cede the description of this view to my comrade, to whom it rightfully belongs.
[For four years I had felt great interest in the geography of the chain; the year before I had mapped, more or less successfully, all but this spot, and this spot had always eluded my grasp. The praises, undeserved as they were, which my map had received, were as gall and wormwood to me when I thought of that great slope which I had been obliged to leave a blank, speckled over with unmeaning dots of rock, gathered from previous maps—for I had consulted them all without meeting an intelligible representation of it. From the surface of the Miage glacier I had gained nothing, for I could only see the feet of magnificent ice-streams, but no more; but now, from the top of the dead wall of rock which had so long closed my view, I saw those fine glaciers from top to bottom, pouring down their streams, nearly as large as the Bossons, from Mont Blanc, from the Bosse, and from the Dôme.
The great buttresses betwixt these magnificent ice-streams have supplied a large portion of the enormous masses of débris which are disposed in ridges round about, and are strewn over, the termination of the Glacier de Miage in the Val Véni. These moraines used to be classed amongst the wonders of the world. They are very large for a glacier of the size of the Miage.
The dimensions of moraines are not ruled by those of glaciers. Many small glaciers have large moraines, and many large ones have small moraines. The size of the moraines of any glacier depends mainly upon the area of rock surface that is exposed to atmospheric influences within the basin drained by the glacier; upon the nature of such rock, — whether it is friable or resistant; and upon the dip of strata. Moraines most likely will be small if little rock surface is exposed; but when large ones are seen, then, in all probability, large areas of rock, uncovered by snow or ice, will be found in immediate contiguity to the glacier. The Miage glacier has large ones, because it receives detritus from many great cliffs and ridges. But if this glacier, instead of lying, as it does, at the bottom of a trough, were to fill that trough, if it were to completely envelope the Aiguille de Trelatete, and the other mountains which border it, and were to descend from Mont Blanc unbroken by rock or ridge, it would be as destitute of morainic matter as the great Mer de Glace of Greenland. For if a country or district is completely covered up by glacier, the moraines may be of the very smallest dimensions.
The contributions that are supplied to moraines by glaciers themselves, from the abrasion of the rocks over which their ice ​passes, are minute compared with, the accumulations which are furnished from other sources. These great rubbish-heaps are formed, one may say almost entirely, from débris which falls, or is washed down the flanks of mountains, or from cliffs bordering glaciers; and are composed, to a very limited extent only, of matter that is ground, rasped, or filed off by the friction of the ice.
If the contrary view were to be adopted, if it could be maintained that "glaciers, by their motion, break off masses of rock from the sides and bottoms of their valley courses, and crowd along every thing that is movable, so as to form large accumulations of débris in front, and along their sides," the conclusion could not be resisted, the greater the glacier, the greater should be the moraine.
This doctrine does not find much, favour with those who have personal knowledge of what glaciers do at the present time. From De Saussure downwards it has been pointed out, time after time, that moraines are chiefly formed from débris coming from rocks or soil above the ice, not from the bed over which it passes. But amongst the writings of modern speculators upon glaciers and glacier-action in bygone times, it is not uncommon to find the notions entertained, that moraines represent the amount of excavation (such is the term employed) performed by glaciers, or at least are comprised of matter which has been excavated by glaciers; that vast moraines have necessarily been produced by vast glaciers; and that a great extension of glaciers—a glacial period—necessarily causes the production of vast moraines. It is needless to cite more ​than one or two examples to show that such generalisations cannot be sustained. Innumerable illustrations might be quoted.
In the chain of Mont Blanc one may compare the moraines of the Miage with those of the Glacier d'Argentière. The latter glacier drains a basin equal to or exceeding that of the former; but its moraines are small compared with those of the former. More notable still is the disparity of the moraines of the Gorner glacier (that which receives so many branches from the neighbourhood of Monte Rosa), and of the Z'Muttgletscher. The area drained by the Gorner greatly exceeds the basin of the Z'Mutt, yet the moraines of the Z'Mutt are incomparably larger than those of the Gorner. No one is likely to say that the Z'Mutt and Miage glaciers have existed for a far greater length of time than the other pair; an explanation must be sought amongst the causes to which reference has been made.
More striking still is it to see the great interior Mer de Glace of Greenland almost without moraines. This vast ice-plateau, although smaller than it was in former times, is still so extensive that the whole of the glaciers of the Alps might be merged into it without its bulk being perceptibly increased. If the size of moraines bore any sort of relation to the size of glaciers, the moraines of Greenland should be far greater than those of the Alps.
This interior ice-reservoir of Greenland, enormous as it is, must be considered as but the remnant of a mass which was incalculably greater, and which is unparalleled at the present time outside the Antarctic Circle. With the exception of localities where the rocks are easy of disintegration, and the traces of glacier-action have been to a great extent destroyed, the whole country bears the marks of the grinding and polishing of ice; and, judging by the flatness of the curves of the roches moutonnées, and by the perfection of the polish which still remains upon the rocks after they have sustained ​(through many centuries) extreme variations of temperature, the period during which such effects were produced must have widely exceeded in duration the 'glacial period' of Europe. If moraines were built from matter excavated by glaciers, the moraines of Greenland should be the greatest in the world!
The absence of moraines upon and at the termination of this great Mer de Glace is due to the want of rocks rising above the ice. On two occasions, in 1867, I saw, at a glance, at least 600 square miles of it, from the summits of small mountains on its outskirts. Not a single peak or ridge was to be seen rising above, nor a single rock reposing upon the ice. The country was completely covered up by glacier; all was ice, as far as the eye could see.
There is evidence, then, that considerable areas of exposed rock surface are essential to the production of large moraines, and that glacial periods do not necessarily produce vast moraines. That moraines are not built up of matter which is excavated by glaciers, but simply illustrate the powers of glaciers for transportation and arrangement. ​We descended in our track to the Lac de Combal, and from thence went over the Col de la Seigne to les Motets, where we slept; on July 13, crossed the Col du Mont Tondu to Contamines (in a sharp thunderstorm), and the Col de Voza to Chamounix. Two days only remained for excursions in this neighbourhood, and we resolved to employ them in another attempt to ascend the Aiguille d'Argentière, upon which mountain we had been cruelly defeated just eight days before.
We looked towards our mountain. Its aspect was not encouraging. The ridge that led upwards had a spiked arête, palisaded with miniature aiguilles, banked up at their bases by heavy snow-beds, which led down, at considerable angles, on one side towards the Glacier de Saleinoz, on the other towards the Glacier du Chardonnet. Under any circumstances, it would have been a stiff piece of work to clamber up that way. Prudence and comfort counselled, "Give it up." Discretion overruled valour. Moore and Almer crossed the Col du Chardonnet to go to Orsieres, and we others returned towards Chamounix.
But when we got some distance down, the evil spirit which prompts men to ascend mountains tempted us to stop, and to look back at the Aiguille d'Argentière. The sky was cloudless; no wind could be felt, nor sign of it perceived; it was only eight o'clock in the morning; and there, right before us, we saw another branch of the glacier leading high up into the mountain—far above the Col du Chardonnet—and a little couloir rising from its head almost to the top of the peak. This was clearly the right route to take. We turned back, and went at it.
The glacier was steep, and the snow gully rising out of it was steeper. Seven hundred steps were cut. Then the couloir became too steep. We took to the rocks on its left, and at last gained the ridge, at a point about 1500 feet above the Col. We faced about to the right, and went along the ridge; keeping on some snow a little below its crest, on the Saleinoz side. Then we got the wind again; but no one thought of turning, for we were within 250 feet of the summit.
The axes of Croz and Couttet went to work once more, for the slope was about as steep as snow could be. Its surface was covered with a loose, granular crust; dry and utterly incoherent; which slipped away in streaks directly it was meddled with. The men had to cut through this into the old beds underneath, and to pause incessantly to rake away the powdery stuff, which poured down in hissing streams over the hard substratum. Ugh! how ​cold it was! How the wind blew! Couttet's hat was torn from its fastenings, and went on a tour in Switzerland. The flour-like snow, swept off the ridge above, was tossed spirally upwards, eddying in tourmentes; then, dropt in lulls, or caught by other gusts, was flung far and wide to feed the Saleinoz.
"My feet are getting suspiciously numbed," cried Reilly: "how about frost-bites?" "Kick hard, sir," shouted the men; "it's the only way." Their fingers were kept alive by their work; but it was cold for the feet, and they kicked and hewed simultaneously. I followed their example, but was too violent, and made a hole clean through my footing. A clatter followed as if crockery had been thrown down a well.
I went down a step or two, and discovered in a second that all were standing over a cavern (not a crevasse, speaking properly) that was bridged over by a thin vault of ice, from which great icicles hung in groves. Almost in the same minute Reilly pushed one of his hands right through the roof. The whole party might have tumbled through at any moment. "Go ahead, Croz, we are-over a chasm!" "We know it," he answered, "and we can't find a firm place."
In the blandest manner, my comrade inquired if to persevere would not be to do that which is called " tempting Providence." My reply being in the affirmative, he further observed, "Suppose we go down?" " Very willingly." "Ask the guides." They had not the least objection; so we went down, and slept that night at the Montanvert.
Off the ridge we were out of the wind. In fact, a hundred feet down to windward, on the slope fronting the Glacier du Chardonnet, we were broiling hot; there was not a suspicion of a breeze. Upon that side there was nothing to tell that a hurricane was raging a hundred feet higher,—the cloudless sky looked tranquillity itself: whilst to leeward the only sign of a disturbed atmosphere was the friskiness of the snow upon the crests of the ridges.
We set out on the 14th, with Croz, Payot, and Charlet, to finish ​off the work which had been cut short so abruptly, and slept, as before, at the Chalets de Lognan. On the 15th, about midday, we arrived upon the summit of the aiguille, and found that we had actually been within one hundred feet of it when we turned back upon the first attempt.
It was a triumph to Reilly. In this neighbourhood he had performed the feat (in 1863) of joining together "two mountains, each about 13,000 feet high, standing on the map about a mile and a half apart." Long before we made the ascent he had procured evidence which could not be impugned, that the Pointe des Plines, a fictitious summit which had figured on other maps as a distinct mountain, could be no other than the Aiguille d'Argentiere, and he had accordingly obliterated it from the preliminary draft of his map. We saw that it was right to do so. The Pointe des Plines did not exist. We had ocular demonstration of the accuracy of his previous observations.
I do not know which to admire most, the fidelity of Mr. Reilly's map, or the indefatigable industry by which the materials were accumulated from which it was constructed. To men who are sound in limb it may be amusing to arrive on a summit (as we did upon the top of Mont Dolent), sitting astride a ridge too narrow to stand upon; or to do battle with a ferocious wind (as we did on the top of the Aiguille de Trélatête); or to feel half-frozen in midsummer (as we did on the Aiguille d'Argentière). But there is extremely little amusement in making sketches and notes under such conditions. Yet upon all these expeditions, under the most adverse circumstances, and in the most trying situations, Mr. Reilly's brain and fingers were always at work. Throughout all he was ever alike; the same genial, equable-tempered companion, whether victorious or whether defeated; always ready to sacrifice his own desires to suit our comfort and convenience. By a happy union of audacity and prudence, combined with untiring perseverance, he eventually completed his self-imposed task—a work which would have been ​intolerable except as a labour of love—and which, for a single individual, may well-nigh be termed Herculean.
We separated upon the level part of the Glacier d'Argentière, Reilly going with Payot and Charlet via the chalets of Lognan and de la Pendant, whilst I, with Croz, followed the right bank of the glacier to the village of Argentière. At 7 p.m. we entered the humble inn, and ten minutes afterwards heard the echoes of the cannon which were fired upon the arrival of our comrades at Chamounix.
* ↑ Under the title of Massif du Mont Blanc, extrait des minutes de la Carte de France, levé par M. Mieulet, Capitaine d'Etat Major.
* ↑ Mr. Reilly's map was published on a scale of 1/80000 in 1865, at the cost of the Alpine Club, under the title The Chain of Mont Blanc.
* ↑ See the map of the chain of Mont Blanc at the end of the volume. This map has-been drawn after the surveys of Mieulet, Dufour, and Reilly. To assist in its production, the Depot de la Guerre at Paris most liberally furnished me with special copies of Captain Mieulet's map. These were reduced, by photography, to the scale of $\scriptstyle {\frac {1}{100000'}}$, which is the same as that of Dufour's map. The Swiss portion of the chain was then fitted on to the reduction. Photographic reductions of the basin of the Glacier du Tour and of the whole of that portion of the chain which lies to the west of the southern Glacier de Miage and to the south of the Glacier de Trélatête were then added from Mr. Reilly's map. The nomenclature of these authorities has been strictly followed. It may be remarked, however, that Captain Mieulet has departed, in many instances, from the spelling in common use.
* ↑ The heights (in mètres) are after Captain Mieulet.
* ↑ Some of these heights have no business to figure in a list of the principal peaks of the chain, being nothing more than teeth or pinnacles in ridges, or portions of higher mountains. Such, for example, are the Aiguilles du Geant, du Dru, and de Bionnassay.
* ↑ These routes are laid down on the Map.
* ↑ Besides Mont Blanc itself.
* ↑ Previous to this we made an attempt to ascend the Aiguille d'Argentiere, and were defeated by a violent wind when within a hundred feet of the summit. It is more convenient to refer to this expedition at the end of the chapter.
* ↑ Great crevasses. A bergschrund is a schrund, but something more. (See Chap, xiv.)
* ↑ The passage of the Col de Triolet from the Couvercle to Prè du Bar occupied 8½ hours of actual walking. If it had been taken in the contrary direction it would have consumed a much longer time. It gave a route shorter than any known at the time between Chamounix and the St. Bernard. As a pass I cannot conscientiously recommend it to any one (see Chap, xix.), nor am I desirous to go again over the moraine on the left bank of the Glacier de Triolet, or the rocks of Mont Rouge.
* ↑ The ascent of Mont Dolent and return to Pre du Bar (inclusive of halts) occupied less than 11 hours.
* ↑ The bracketed paragraphs in this chapter are extracted from the notes of Mr. Reilly.
* ↑ From a sketch by Mr. Adams-Reilly. This camp was immediately at the foot of the snow seen upon the map to the N. W. of the words Mont Sue.
* ↑ This glacier is named on the map Glacier du Mont Blanc.
* ↑ The Calotte is the name given to the dome of snow at the summit of Mont Blanc.
* ↑ Glacier du Dôme.
* ↑ This is without a name.
* ↑ I do not know the origin of the term moraine. De Saussure says (vol. i. p. 380, § 536), "the peasants of Chamoumix call these heaps of débris the moraine of the glacier." It maybe inferred from this that the term was a local one, peculiar to Chamoumix.
* ↑ An example is referred to on p. 161. Much more remarkable cases might be instanced.
* ↑ It is not usual to find small moraines to large glaciers fed by many branches draining many different basins. That is, if the branches are draining basins which are separated by mountain ridges, or which, at least, have islands of rock protruding through the ice. The small moraines contributed by one affluent are balanced, probably, by great ones brought by another feeder.
* ↑ Atlas of Physical Geography, by Augustus Petermann and the Rev. T. Milner. The italics are not in the original.
* ↑ "The stones that are found upon the upper extremities of glaciers are of the same nature as the mountains which rise above; but, as the ice carries them down into the valleys, they arrive between rocks of a totally different nature from their own."— De Saussure, § 536.
* ↑ The Unter Theodul, Klein Mattcrhorn, Breithorn, Schwarze, Zwiilinge, Grenz, and Monte Rosa glaciers, are all feeders of the Gorner. The Z'Mutt receives the Tiefenmatten, Stock, and Schönbühl glaciers only.
* ↑ I refer to those portions of it which I have seen in the neighbourhood of Disco Bay. There are moraines in this district, but they were formed when the great Mer de Glace stretched nearer to the sea,—when it sent arms down through the valleys in the belt of land which now intervenes between sea and glacier.
* ↑ The interior of Greenland appears to be absolutely covered by glacier between 68° 30'—70° N. Lat. Others speak of peaks peeping through the ice to the N. and S. of this district; but I suspect that these peaks are upon the outskirts of the great Mer de Glace.
* ↑ The striations which are found upon rocks over which glaciers have worked, are universally held by the ablest writers to be caused by foreign matter held in the grip of the ice, or rolling between it and the rock -bed (§ 9, p. 146). If the principal source of the tools which make these marks is cut off, the marks should, of course, be less numerous. The rarity of striations in the neighbourhood of the great Mer de Glace of Greenland was very noticeable. There was perfection of glaciation; but, over large areas, striations, flutings, and groovings were entirely wanting. Weathering, subsequently to the retreat of the ice, had not taken place, to any perceptible extent, in the localities to which I refer. Striations, groovings, and flutings, are seen on the outskirt land; but they are less common in Greenland than in the Alps.
* ↑ The ascent of the Aiguille de Trélatête from our camp on Mont Suc (2½ hours above the Lac de Combal) and its descent to les Motets, occupied 9½ hours. After quitting the lake, the route led up the largest of the ravines on the S.E. side of Mont Suc, and then along the top of the gently-inclined snow-ridge which was at the summit of that buttress of the Trélatête. It then descended on to a branch of the Glacier d'Allée Blanche, through a gap in one of the minor ridges of Mont Suc. The course was then straight up this glacier (a little W. of N. ), until the ridge was struck that descends from the summit of the Trélatête in the direction of Mont Blanc. This was followed, and the highest (central) peak (12,900 feet) was arrived at by passing over the peak No. 3 (12,782). It is possible to descend from the highest point of this mountain on to the Glacier de Trélatête. I wished to adopt this course in 1864, but was outvoted. Mont Suc is a famous locality for crystals. We discovered several sparkling, fairy caves, encrusted with magnificent specimens, smoky and clear; but, as usual, the best were injured before they could be detached.
* ↑ The Col du Chardonnet is about 11,000 or 11,100 feet above the level of the sea.
* ↑ One cannot do worse than follow that path.
* ↑ The lower chalet de Lognan is 2½ hours' walking from Chamounix. From thence to the summit of the Aiguille d'Argentière, and down to the village of the same name, occupied 12½ hours.