This was the couloir at the foot of which we found ourselves at daybreak on the 25th of June 1864; but before commencing the relation of our doings upon that eventful day, I must recount the experiences of Messrs. Mathews and Bonney in 1862.

These gentlemen, with the two Croz’s, attempted the ascent of the Ecrins a few weeks after Mr. Tuckett had inspected the mountain. On August 26, says Mr. Bonney, “we pushed on, and our hopes each moment rose higher and higher; even the cautious Michel committed himself so far as to cry, ‘Ah, malheureux Ecrins, vous serez bientôt morts,’ as we addressed ourselves to the last slope leading up to the foot of the final cone. The old proverb about ‘many a slip’ was, however, to prove true on this occasion. Arrived at the top of this slope, we found that we were cut off from the peak by a formidable bergschrund, crossed by the rottenest of snow-bridges. We looked to the right and to the left, to see whether it would be possible to get on either arête at its extremity; but instead of rising directly from the snow as they appeared to do from below, they were terminated by a wall of rock some forty feet high. There was but one place where the bergschrund was narrow enough to admit of crossing, and there a cliff of ice had to be climbed, and then a path to be cut up a steep slope of snow, before the arête could be reached. At last, after searching in vain for some time, Michel bade us wait a little, and started off to explore the gap separating the highest peak from the snow-dome on the right, and see if it were possible to ascend the rocky wall. Presently he appeared, evidently climbing with difficulty, and at last stood on the arête itself. Again we thought the victory was won, and started off to follow him. Suddenly he called to us to halt, and turned to descend. In a few minutes he [pg 153]stopped. After a long pause he shouted to his brother, saying that he was not able to return by the way he had ascended. Jean was evidently uneasy about him, and for some time we watched him with much anxiety. At length he began to hew out steps in the snow along the face of the peak towards us. Jean now left us, and, making for the ice-cliff mentioned above, chopped away until, after about a quarter of an hour’s labour, he contrived, somehow or other, to worm himself up it, and began to cut steps to meet his brother. Almost every step appeared to be cut right through the snowy crust into the hard ice below, and an incipient stream of snow came hissing down the sides of the peak as they dug it away with their axes. Michel could not have been much more than 100 yards from us, and yet it was full three quarters of an hour before the brothers met. This done, they descended carefully, burying their axe-heads deep in the snow at every step.

“Michel’s account was that he had reached the arête with great difficulty, and saw that it was practicable for some distance, in fact, as far as he could see; but that the snow was in a most dangerous condition, being very incoherent and resting on hard ice; that when he began to descend in order to tell us this, he found the rocks so smooth and slippery that return was impossible; and that for some little time he feared that he should not be able to extricate himself, and was in considerable danger. Of course the arête could have been reached by the way our guides had descended, but it was so evident that their judgment was against proceeding, that we did not feel justified in urging them on. We had seen so much of them that we felt sure they would never hang back unless there was real danger, and so we gave the word for retreating.”[109]

On both of these expeditions there was fine weather and plenty of time. On each occasion the parties slept out at, and started from, a considerable elevation, and arrived at the base of the final peak of the Ecrins early in the day, and with plenty of [pg 154]superfluous energy. Guides and travellers alike, on each occasion, were exceptional men, experienced mountaineers, who had proved their skill and courage on numerous antecedent occasions, and who were not accustomed to turn away from a thing merely because it was difficult. On each occasion the attempts were abandoned because the state of the snow on and below the final peak was such that avalanches were anticipated; and, according to the judgment of those who were concerned, there was such an amount of positive danger from this condition of things, that it was unjustifiable to persevere.

We learnt privately, from Messrs. Mathews, Bonney, and Tuckett, that unless the snow was in a good state upon the final peak (that is to say, coherent and stable), we should probably be of the same opinion as themselves; and that, although the face of the mountain fronting the Glacier de l’Encula was much less steep than its other faces, and was apparently the only side upon which an attempt was at all likely to be successful, it was, nevertheless, so steep, that for several days, at least, after a fall of snow upon it, the chances in favour of avalanches would be considerable.

The reader need scarcely be told, after all that has been said about the variableness of weather in the High Alps, the chance was small indeed that we should find upon the 25th of June, or any other set day, the precise condition of affairs that was deemed indispensable for success. We had such confidence in the judgment of our friends, that it was understood amongst us the ascent should be abandoned, unless the conditions were manifestly favourable.

By five minutes to six we were at the top of the gully (a first-rate couloir, about 1000 feet high), and within sight of our work. Hard, thin, and wedge-like as the Ecrins had looked from afar, it had never looked so hard and so thin as it did when we emerged from the top of the couloir through the gap in the ridge. No tender shadows spoke of broad and rounded ridges, but sharp and shadowless its serrated edges stood out against the clear [pg 155]sky.[110] It had been said that the route must be taken by one of the ridges of the final peak, but both were alike repellent, hacked and notched in numberless places. They reminded me of my failure on the Dent d’Hérens in 1863, and of a place on a similar ridge, from which advance or retreat was alike difficult. But, presuming one or other of these ridges or arêtes was practicable, there remained the task of getting to them, for completely round the base of the final peak swept an enormous bergschrund, almost separating it from the slopes which lay beneath. It was evident thus early that the ascent would not be accomplished without exertion, and that it would demand all our faculties and all our time. In more than one respect we were favoured. The mists were gone, the day was bright and perfectly calm; there had been a long stretch of fine weather beforehand, and the snow was in excellent order; and, most important of all, the last new snow which had fallen on the final peak, unable to support itself, had broken away and rolled in a mighty avalanche, over schrund, névé, séracs, over hills and valleys in the glacier [pg 156](levelling one and filling the other), completely down to the summit of the Col des Ecrins, where it lay in huge jammed masses, powerless to harm us; and had made a broad track, almost a road, over which, for part of the way at least, we might advance with rapidity.

We took in all this in a few minutes, and seeing there was no time to be lost, despatched a hasty meal, left knapsacks, provisions, and all incumbrances by the Col, started again at half-past six, and made direct for the left side of the schrund, for it was there alone that a passage was practicable. We crossed it at 8.10. Our route can now be followed upon the [annexed outline]. The arrow marked D points out the direction of the Glacier de la Bonne Pierre. The ridge in front, that extends right across, is the ridge that is partially shown on the top of the map at p. 146, leading from Roche Faurio towards the W.N.W. We arrived upon the plateau of the Glacier de l’Encula, behind this ridge, from the direction of D, and then made a nearly straight track to the left hand of the bergschrund at A.