Wieland was consulted, and was only too delighted to go anywhere under Roman's leadership. Our times will give an idea of the changed state of the mountain, for, leaving the Mortel Hut at 12.30 midnight, we were on the top of the Scerscen at 8 A.M. At nine we set off, and taking things leisurely, with halts for food, we passed along the famous arête, and, thanks to Roman's choice of route, met with not one really hard step. At 2.30 P.M. we found ourselves on the top of Piz Bernina, and had a chat with another party, who had arrived not long before. I waited to see them start, and rejoiced that I had kept two plates. Then we, too, set forth, and were in the valley by 7 P.M.
THE FIRST ASCENT OF MONT BLANC BY A WOMAN, AND SOME SUBSEQUENT ASCENTS
The first woman who reached the summit of Mont Blanc was a native of Chamonix, Maria Paradis by name. Her account of her expedition is so admirably graphic and picturesque that I shall give a translation of it as like the original as I can. Though it was so far back as the year 1809, Maria writes quite in the spirit of modern journalism.
She begins:—"I was only a poor servant. One day the guides said to me, 'We are going up there, come with us. Travellers will come and see you afterwards and give you presents.' That decided me, and I set out with them. When I reached the Grand Plateau I could not walk any longer. I felt very ill, and I lay down on the snow. I panted like a chicken in the heat. They held me up by my arms on each side and dragged me along. But at the Rochers-Rouge I could get no further, and I said to them 'Chuck me into a crevasse and go on yourselves.'
"'You must go to the top,' answered the guides. They seized hold of me, they dragged me, they pushed me, they carried me, and at last we arrived. Once at the summit, I could see nothing clearly, I could not breathe, I could not speak."
Maria was thirty years of age, and made quite a fortune out of her achievement. From that time, tourists returning from Mont Blanc noticed with surprise, as they passed through the pine woods, a feast spread out under the shade of a huge tree. Cream, fruit, etc., were tastefully displayed on the white cloth. A neat-looking peasant woman urged them to partake. "It is Maria of Mont Blanc!" the guides would cry, and the travellers halted to hear the story of her ascent and to refresh themselves.
The second woman, and the first lady to climb Mont Blanc, was a Frenchwoman, Mademoiselle d'Angeville. For years she had determined to make the attempt, but it was only in 1838, when she was 44 years of age, that she came to Chamonix with the intention of immediately setting out for the great mountain. She had many difficulties to surmount. The guides feared the responsibility of taking up a woman, many of the Chamonix people thought her mad, and while one was ready to offer a thousand francs to five that she would not reach the top, another was prepared to accept heavy odds that there would be a catastrophe. At last, however, all was ready, and she started. Two other parties offered to join her. She declined with thanks. After half an hour on the glacier she detached herself from the rope and would accept no help. This was far from being out of sheer bravado, it was simply that she desired to inspire confidence in her powers. During the night on the rocks of the Grands Mulets she suffered terribly from cold and could not snatch a moment's sleep. When the party stopped for breakfast at the Grand Plateau, she could eat nothing. At the Corridor, feverishness, and fearful thirst overcame her; she fell to the ground from weakness and drowsiness. After a little rest, however, she was able to go on, but at the Mur de la Cote she felt desperately ill. Violent palpitation seized on her and her limbs felt like lead. With a tremendous effort she moved on. The beatings of her heart became more suffocating, her pulse was too rapid to count, she could not take more than ten steps without stopping. One thing only remained strong in her—the will. During these frequent halts she heard the murmuring of talk between the guides, as in a dream. "We shall fail! Look at her, she has fallen asleep! Shall we try and carry her?" while Couttet cried, "If ever I find myself again with a lady on Mont Blanc!" At these words Mademoiselle d'Angeville, with a desperate effort, shook off her torpor and stood up. She clung with desperate energy to the one idea: "If I die," she said to the guides, "promise to carry me up there and bury me on the top!" And the men, stupified with such persistence, answered gravely, "Make your mind easy, mademoiselle, you shall go there, dead or alive!"
Hard Work.