This opportunity has been taken to introduce to the reader some of the most expert amateur mountaineers of the time; and a few of the guides who have been, or will be, mentioned in the course of the book.
The late Peter Perrn is on the extreme right. Then come young Peter Taugwalder (upon the bench); and J. J. Maquignaz (leaning against the door-post). Franz Andermatten occupies the steps, and Ulrich Lauener towers in the background.
I engaged Croz for 1865 before I parted from him in 1864; but upon writing to him in the month of April to fix the dates of his engagement, I found that he had supposed he was free (in consequence of not having heard from me earlier), and had engaged himself to a Mr. B—— from the 27th of June. I endeavoured to hold him to his promise, but he considered himself unable to withdraw from his later obligation. His letters were honourable to him. The following extract from the last one he wrote to me is given as an interesting souvenir of a brave and upright man:—
I wrote in the Athenæum, August 29, 1863, to the same effect. “This action of the frost does not cease in winter, inasmuch as it is impossible for the Matterhorn to be entirely covered by snow. Less precipitous mountains may be entirely covered up during winter, and if they do not then actually gain height, the wear and tear is, at least, suspended.... We arrive, therefore, at the conclusion that, although such snow-peaks as Mont Blanc may in the course of ages grow higher, the Matterhorn must decrease in height.” These remarks have received confirmation.
The men who were left by M. Dollfus-Ausset in his observatory upon the summit of the Col Théodule, during the winter of 1865, remarked that the snow was partially melted upon the rocks in their vicinity upon 19th, 20th, 21st, 22d, 23d, 26th, 27th December of that year, and upon the 22d of December they entered in their Journal, “Nous avons vu au Matterhorn que la neige se fondait sur roches et qu’il s’en écoulait de l’eau.”—Matériaux pour l’étude des Glaciers, vol. viii. part i. p. 246, 1868; and vol. viii. part ii. p. 77, 1869.
Comparison of the Col de Triolet with the Col de Talèfre will show what a great difference in ease there may be between tracks which are nearly identical. For a distance of several miles these routes are scarcely more than half-a-mile apart. Nearly every step of the former is difficult, whilst the latter has no difficulty whatever. The route we adopted over the Col de Talèfre may perhaps be improved. It may be possible to go directly from the head of the Glacier de Triolet to its right bank, and, if so, at least thirty minutes might be saved.
The following is a list of the principal of the passes across the main ridge of the range of Mont Blanc, with the years in which the first passages were effected, as far as I know them:—1. Col de Trélatête (1864), between Aig. du Glacier and Aig. de Trélatête. 2. Col de Miage, between Aig. de Miage and Aig. de Bionnassay. 3. Col du Dôme (1865), over the Dôme du Goûter. 4. Col du Mont Blanc (1868), over Mont Blanc. 5. Col de la Brenva (1865), between Mont Blanc and Mont Maudit. 6. Col de la Tour Ronde (1867), over la Tour Ronde. 7. Col du Géant, between la Tour Ronde and Aigs. Marbrées. 8. Col des Grandes Jorasses (1873), between the Grandes and Petites Jorasses. 9. Col de Leschaux (1877), between the Aig. de l’Eboulement and the Aig. de Leschaux. 10. Col Pierre Joseph (1866), over Aig. de l’Eboulement. 11. Col de Talèfre (1865), between Aigs. Talèfre and Triolet. 12. Col de Triolet (1864), between Aigs. Talèfre and Triolet. 13. Col Dolent (1865), between Aig. de Triolet and Mont Dolent. 14. Col d’Argentière (1861), between Mont Dolent and la Tour Noire. 15. Col de la Tour Noire (1863), between the Tour Noire and the Aig. d’Argentière. 16. Col du Chardonnet (1863), between Aigs. d’Argentière and Chardonnet. 17. Col du Tour, between Aigs. du Chardonnet and Tour.
I remember speaking about pedestrianism to a well-known mountaineer some years ago, and venturing to remark that a man who averaged thirty miles a-day might be considered a good walker. “A fair walker,” he said, “a fair walker.” “What then would you consider good walking?” “Well,” he replied, “I will tell you. Some time back a friend and I agreed to go to Switzerland, but a short time afterwards he wrote to say he ought to let me know that a young and delicate lad was going with him who would not be equal to great things, in fact, he would not be able to do more than fifty miles a-day!” “What became of the young and delicate lad?” “He lives.” “And who was your extraordinary friend?” “Charles Hudson.” I have every reason to believe that the gentlemen referred to were equal to walking more than fifty miles a-day, but they were exceptional, not good pedestrians.
Charles Hudson, Vicar of Skillington in Lincolnshire, was considered by the mountaineering fraternity to be the best amateur of his time. He was the organiser and leader of the party of Englishmen who ascended Mont Blanc by the Aig. du Goûter, and descended by the Grands Mulets route, without guides, in 1855. His long practice made him surefooted, and in that respect he was not greatly inferior to a born mountaineer. I remember him as a well-made man of middle height and age, neither stout nor thin, with face pleasant—though grave, and with quiet unassuming manners. Although an athletic man, he would have been overlooked in a crowd; and although he had done the greatest mountaineering feats which have been done, he was the last man to speak of his own doings. His friend Mr. Hadow was a young man of nineteen, who had the looks and manners of a greater age. He was a rapid walker, but 1865 was his first season in the Alps. Lord Francis Douglas was about the same age as Mr. Hadow. He had had the advantage of several seasons in the Alps. He was nimble as a deer, and was becoming an expert mountaineer. Just before our meeting he had ascended the Ober Gabelhorn (with old Peter Taugwalder and Jos. Viennin), and this gave me a high opinion of his powers; for I had examined that mountain all round, a few weeks before, and had declined its ascent on account of its apparent difficulty.