On September 21st, 1903, Messrs. Broadrick, Garrett, Jupp, and Ridsdale started from Wastdale Head for Scawfell, intent upon climbing the Pinnacle by the difficult route from Deep Ghyll. This they successfully accomplished, and afterwards redescended to the foot of the Pinnacle, where they had lunch with another climbing party, which was under Mr. W. E. Webb’s leadership.
After lunch Mr. Webb’s party bade them au revoir and went off to climb one of the cracks on the far end of the crags. After their climb they foregathered on Mickledore Ridge, and thence set off along the base of the cliff to regain their knapsacks, which had been left at the lunching-place.
As they neared the foot of the Pinnacle they heard a shout, but thought it came from the valley below. Leisurely they rounded a corner, and there, about fifty yards away, in the vicinity of the screes where they had lunched, saw four figures stretched out and lying quite still.
In a disconnected way they thought at first that these four figures were asleep, though it was a peculiar place to fall asleep in; then something unusual about their attitudes became apparent, and not till then did the awful reality flash upon them.
They tore across the rough intervening ground and made a dreadful discovery. Only Mr. Ridsdale was alive, and even he was obviously too terribly injured to recover. As they approached he raised his head. “I’ve been shouting for hours,” he murmured. “I’m afraid the others are all gone, but look after them and don’t mind me.” As he feared, they were past human aid, and death had evidently visited them with merciful swiftness, for their bodies were already cold.
It was now nearly six o’clock, and little could be done for poor Ridsdale, but Mr. Webb and another of his party stayed with him whilst the other ran down to Wastdale for help.
From that time until nearly ten o’clock they did all in their power to alleviate the sufferings of the survivor, who was in great pain. Darkness set in before seven o’clock, and their lonely vigil, with the wind sighing weirdly through the crags above their heads, their three erstwhile friends lying dead around them, and poor Ridsdale moaning and but half conscious most of the time, must have been an awful experience. The remembrance of Ridsdale’s heroic appeal to them to tend the others before him, and afterwards the manly efforts of Mr. Webb and his friend to help and sustain their dying comrade in such awful circumstances through those long, dark hours of waiting, must ever linger with pride in the hearts of all true Englishmen. We may be a degenerate race; but, if this Scawfell tragedy has done nothing else, it has proved that there are still men amongst us.
Little more remains to be told. The rescue party arrived through the darkness with a stretcher, and by the light of the lanterns, after strenuous labour and weary suspense, succeeded in conveying the survivor downward over the rough stones and shale, only to find, alas! that their effort was in vain, for their burden expired about an hour before they gained the shelter of the inn.
From what Mr. Ridsdale let fall in his delirium, and by an investigation of the face of the Pinnacle from which the party fell, it was not difficult to reconstruct their doings before the accident. After Mr. Webb’s party had left them they started up the north face of the Pinnacle, a climb that had not hitherto been accomplished, with Mr. Broadrick leading. He must subsequently have relinquished it, however, for their position on the rope when found showed that Mr. Garrett had taken over the lead. From a narrow ledge about two hundred feet up the sheer rock-face Mr. Garrett slipped, and the others, not being well placed to sustain a shock, were plucked one after another from their holds and dashed to the screes below.
Apart from Mr. Garrett’s slip, there were two prime contributory causes of the accident. The first was the perseverance of the party beyond where good anchorage (a place where the leader could be checked by the rope in case of a slip) was obtainable; and the second was in not turning back and abandoning the climb when Mr. Broadrick, by far the most experienced and careful man in the party, gave up the leadership.