The Sun.
London, England, 1860-09-08 00:00:00

THE ACO ENT ON TUX COL-D U-
OEANT.

A writer in a contemporary gives the following
remarks on the recent fatal occurrence on the Col-
Geant

On the 18th of August, while staying with a
):iend at Breuil, rumours of the disaster reached us ;

but the accounts at first. were so contradictory as to
inspire the hope that they might be altogether false.
Clearer intelligence, however, soon arrived, and
before I quitted Breuil it was perfectly certain that
three Englishmen, named Fuller, Rochester, and

Vavasour,-with a guide named Tairraz, had perished
on the Col. Oa the 21st I saw the brother of
Tairraz at Aosta, and learncd from him all he knew

of the occurrence. The more I heard of it, however,

the stronger became my desire to visit the scene of
the catastrophe myself, and obtain through actual
contact with the facts information more reliable

than could possibly be conveyed to me by descrip
tion. On the afternoon of the 22d I accordingly
reached Cormayeur, and, bsing informed that M.
Curie, the resident French pastor, had visited the
place and made an accurate sketch of it, I at once
called upon him. With the most obliging prompt-
ness he placed his sketches in my hands, furnished
me with an account of the occurrence drawn up by
himself, and volunteered to accompany me to the
spot, so that we might inspect it together. I gladly
accepted this offer, and early on the morning of
Thursday, the 24th of August, we reached the
Pavilion, which it had been the aim of the travellers
to reach on the day of their death. Wishing to make
myself acquainted with every ineh of the ground
over which, from the commencement of theirglissade,
the unfortunate men had passed, I walked straight
up from the Pavilion to the base of the rocky
couloir along which they had been precipitated.
This couloir was described as being so dangerous
that a chamois hunter had declined ascending
it some days before; but through the kindness
of M. Curie I secured at Cormayeur the services
of an intrepid man, named Baireux, who had
once made the ascent, and whom it was now my in-
tention to follow. We commenced our climb at the
very bottom of the rocks, while the pastor made a
detour and joined us on the spot where the bo ly of
the guide Tairraz had been tound, and where some
fragments of his skull—an exceedingly thick one—
still furnished sad evidence of his fate. From this
point upwards M. Curie shared the dangers of the
ascent—strongly, I confess, against my will—until
we reached the place where the rocks ended, and
the fatal snow slope commenced. Here we parted
company, he deeming it more prudent to resort to
a stony arete to the right, than to trust himself
upon the snow. I was urged by M. Curie to con-
tent myself with an inspection of the place, but no
inspection, however, close, could have given me the
information I desired. I asked my guide whether
he feared the slope, and, his reply being negative,
we entered upon the snow, and ascended it along
the course of the fatal glissade, the traces of which
had not been entirely obliterated. Among the rocks
below we had frequent and often melancholy occa-
sion to assure ourselves that we were on the proper
track, being guided by pieces of broken bottles, of
wood,lacifer matches, fragments of leather, of crania
and other objects not necessary to mention. We
also found a penknife and a small magnetic compass,
but the most important discovery was made upon
the snow, being that of a fine new ice-axe, the pro-
perty of one of the guides, who had relinquished it
in his descent. This implement accompanied me
yesterday across the Channel, and the discovery of
it helps to throw a most needful light upon the dis-
aster. Thus, then, from the beginning to the end
of this fatal track Imade myself acquainted with its
true character, and as I stood upon the summit of
the incline and scanned the ground over which I had
passed a feelingof augmented sadness took possession
of me. There was no sufficient reason for this ter-
rible catastrophe. With ordinary precaution the
glissade might, in the first instance, have been
avoided, and with average capacity to cope with
such an accident the motion might, I am persuaded,
have been arrested after it commenced.
Bounding the snow slope to the left, looking
downwards, is a stony arete which forms the track
by which travellers to Cormayeur usually descend.
It is rough, but absolutely without danger. Any
lady of ordinary walking powers might be con-
ducted down it with perfect safety. But the men
were tired when they reached this place, and to
avoid the roughness of the arete they betook them-
selvos to the snow. In connection with their first
entrance upon the snow a statement has been made
which needs correction. On the morning of the
fatal day a party, including two ladies, had actu-
ally descended the Col to Cormayeur, and M.
Curie was one of this party. They also had trod-
den upon the snow, and it is alleged that their
trace was followed by the party which attempted
to descend in the evening. This is not true. M.
Curie's party kept close to the arete, whereas the
others were several yards to the right of it. The
traces of both parties were perfectly plain on the
day of my visit. An instrument for measuring the
inclination of the snow was not, I am sorry to say,
in my possession, but I should estimate its upper
portion as forming an angle of 30 degrees, or there-
abouts, with the horizon. It steepened consider-
ably lower down, but its steepest portion I should
estimate at less than 45 degrees of inclination. At
all events, practised mountaineers are accustomed
to trust themselves on steeper slopes without fear,
and many of them, I imagine, might be found who
watild suffer themselves to be tossed from a carpet
on the slope in question, with perfect reliance on
their power to arrest their downward motion.
There are two other points which must be dis-
posed of if we would have an unclouded view of
this deplorable occurrence. It is alleged that
when the party was approaching the summit of the
Col on the Chamounix side, the guides proposed to
return, but the Englishmen persisted in going for-
ward. One condition of things alone could justify
the proposition of the guides, namely, a fog so thick
as to prevent them from reaching the summit of
the Col at the proper point, and to render it neces-
sary to return by the tracts they had already
stamped in the snow. The only portion of the Col
hitherto regarded as dangerous had been passed,
and hence, unless in the case assumed, it would have
been simply absurd to propose recrossing the really
perilous portion of the glacier, instead of proceeding
to Cormayeur. Such a fog, the guides affirm, did
exist, but they, nevertheless, reached the summit of
the Col, and the weather cleared after the summit
had been attained. The subsequent portion of the
journey must be discussed purely on its own merits,
and whether the Englishmen refused to return or
not upon the Mantanvert side ought in no way
to influence our judgment of what occurred on the
Cormayeur side. Indeed, the alleged refusal seetrs
to be justified by the facts; the guides acted upon
it, the Col was surmounted, the descent at the other
side was commenced, and here the weather, which
prompted the proposal to go back, ceased to be
blameable. The second point to which I would re-
fer is this :—A statement is current which conveys
the impression that the unfortunate men were car-
ried down by an avalanche. In connection with this
point M. Curie writes to me thus :—" I 1 parait qu'
a Chamounix on repand le bruit que c'est une ava-
lanche qui a fait perir les voyageurs. C'est la une
faussete que le premier vous saurez dementir sur les
lieux." I have no hesitation in subscribing to this
opinion of M. Curie. That a considerable quantity
of snow was brought down during the glissade is
exceedingly probable; but an avalanche, properly
so called, there was not, and it simply leads to mis-
conception to introduce the term " avalanche" at all.
We are now prepared to discuss the descent. The
travellers, it is alleged, reached the summit of the
Col in a state of great exhaustion ; and this I can
readily believe. It is also certain that such a condi-
tion would deprive them, to a great extent, of that
firmness of tread which is necessary in perilous
places. But every guide and every experienced tra-
veller is acquainted with this effect of fatigue, and
this knowledge ought, one would think-, to prevent
them from entering upon the snow slope at all,
when the rocky arete was at hand. Still I would
excuse them here ; for who would anticipate seri.
ous danger on a slope of 30 degrees? We are in-
formed, however, that even on this slope the foot-
ing of one of the men repeatedly gave_ way, and
that it was necessary continually to exhort him to
fix his heels in the snow. Thus warned, why did
the guides not quit the snow and resort to the crate?
They must have had full confidence in their
power to arrest the glissade, which seemed so immi-
nent, or else they were perfectly reckless of the
lives committed to their charge. We must assume
the former, though, unfortunately, when this confi-
dence was put to the test it proved delusive. At
some distance down the slope the heaviest of the
three gentlemen slipped, and was shot downwards;
he jerked his next neighbour off his feet, he again
the next, until, finally, the whole of the men were
in swift motion. What efforts were made to check
this fearful descent we know not. At what point of
the glissade the two guides relinquished the rope we
are not accurately informed ; which of them gave
way first we do not know, though all this might be
and ought to be known. All that we really know
is, that the foremost and the hindmost guides did
let go the rope, and escaped, while the three
Englishmen and Tairraz went to destruction ; and,
mike Englishmen, they met their doom without. a
word of exclamation. At the bottom of the slope a
ridge of rocks rose slightly above the level of the
snow, thus forming a little harrier of which prac-
tised men might possibly have availed themselves
at the last moment ; as it was, however, all four
were tilted over this barrier, and immediately after-
wards descended a precipice, at the base of which
they certainly were placed beyond all feeling, Ido
not think a single second's suffering could have been
endured. During the wild rush downwards the men
were too bewildered to experience even fear, and at