"I slept till the guides roused me at ten minutes before twelve from deep and sweet slumber. There was no moonlight—the only elemental felicity wanting to our enterprise—but the stars and snow relieved the darkness, which was also broken by numerous lanterns, which were already lighted, and shone among the bristling cornices of the rock below me like huge dull glow-worms. After the first sensation of cold and stiffness had subsided, and the mistiness that hangs over the perception of a suddenly-awakened sleeper in a strange place had dispersed, I took my pole, and picked my way down the rock, my steps being lighted by Julien's lantern, and soon found myself in the midst of the long procession of travellers and guides, slowly pacing the plain of snow which lies between the rock and the first upward slope. When we began to ascend, the snow was found so hard and so steep, that we were obliged to pause every ten paces, while the guides with hatchets cut steps. Every one, I believe, performs some part well; at least, few are without grace or power, which they are found to possess in a peculiar degree, if the proper occasion occurs to rouse it into action; and I performed the stopping part admirably. While we stood still I felt as if able to go on; and it is possible that if the progress had always been as difficult, and consequently as slow and as replete with stoppages, I might eventually have reached the summit—unless first frozen. But unluckily for me, these occasions of halting soon ceased; for the snow became so loose, as to present no obstacle excepting the necessity of sinking to the knees at every step. The line of march lay up long slopes of snow; nothing could ever be discovered but a waste of snow ascending in a steep inclination before us; no crevice gave us pause; there was nothing to vary the toil or the pain except that as fatigue crept on, and nature began to discriminate between the stronger and the weaker, our line was no longer continuous, but broken into parties, which, of course, rendered the position of the hindermost more dispiriting. The rarity of the atmosphere now began to affect us; and as the disorder resulting from this cause was more impartial than the distribution of muscular activity, our condition was, for a short time, almost equalized; even Mr. Bosworth felt violent nausea and headache; while I only felt, in addition to the distress of increasing weakness, the taste or scent of blood in the mouth, as if it were about to burst from the nostrils. We thus reached the Grand Plateau—a long field of snow in the bosom of the highest pinnacles of the mountain—which, being nearly level, was much less distressing to traverse than the previous slopes; but just before the commencement of the next ascent, which rose in a vast dim curve, the immediate occasion of my failure occurred. Mr. Bosworth, who was in advance, turned back to inform me that my son was so much affected by the elevation, that his guides thought it necessary that he should return. We halted till we were joined by him and his guides, on two of whom he was leaning, and who explained that he was sick and faint, and wished to lie down for a few minutes, to which they would not consent, as, if he should fall asleep on the snow, he might never awake. The youth himself was anxious to proceed—quite satisfied, if he might only rest for a very little time, he could go on—but they shook their heads; and as their interests and wishes were strongly engaged for our success, I felt it was impossible to trifle with such a decision. I could not allow him to return without me; and therefore determined at once to abandon the further prosecution of the adventure; a determination which I should not else have formed at that moment, but which I believe I must have adopted soon from mere prostration of strength; and which, therefore, I do not lay in the least to the charge of his indisposition. He was still light of limb, and courageous in heart; only afflicted by the treachery of the stomach, and dizziness produced by the rarity of the air; whereas, if I had been supported and dragged (as perhaps I might have been) to the foot of the steep La Côte, which is the last difficulty of the ascent, I do not believe I should have had muscular pliancy left to raise a foot up a step of the long staircase, which the guides are obliged to cut in the frozen snow. While the guides were re-arranging matters for the descent, I took one longing, lingering glance at the upward scenery, and perceived sublime indications of those heights I was never to climb."
1851.—In the month of August, Albert Smith made an ascent, which was rendered famous by the graphic account he gave of his adventures, during a period of several years, at the Egyptian Hall, in London. He was accompanied by three English gentlemen, and attended by no less than fifteen guides, as well as a small army of porters, who were employed to carry the provisions, wrappers, rugs, &c., as far as the Glacier des Bossons.
The party started from Chamonix at half-past seven in the morning, and reached the Grands Mulets at four in the afternoon. Shortly after midnight they resumed their journey, and having traversed the Grand Plateau they took the Corridor route, and arrived at their destination at nine in the morning. During the latter part of the ascent, Albert Smith seems to have been in a state bordering on delirium:
"With the perfect knowledge of where I was, and what I was about—even with such caution as was required to place my feet on particular places in the snow—I conjured up such a set of absurd and improbable phantoms about me, that the most spirit-ridden intruder upon a Mayday festival on the Hartz Mountains was never more beleaguered. I am not sufficiently versed in the finer theories of the psychology of sleep, to know if such a state might be; but I believe for the greater part of this bewildering period I was fast asleep with my eyes open, and through them the wandering brain received external impressions; in the same manner, as upon awaking, the phantasms of our dreams are sometimes carried on, and connected with objects about the chamber. It is very difficult to explain the odd state in which I was, so to speak, entangled. A great many people I knew in London were accompanying me, and calling after me, as the stones did after Prince Pervis, in the Arabian Nights. Then there was some terribly elaborate affair that I could not settle, about two bedsteads, the whole blame of which transaction, whatever it was, lay on my shoulders; and then a literary friend came up, and told me he was sorry we could not pass over his ground on our way to the summit, but that the King of Prussia had forbidden it. Everything was as foolish and unconnected as this, but it worried me painfully; and my senses were under such little control, and I reeled and staggered about so, that when we had crossed the snow prairie, and arrived at the foot of an almost perpendicular wall of ice, four or five hundred feet high—the terrible Mur de la Côte—up which we had to climb, I sat down again on the snow, and told Tairraz that I would not go any further, but they might leave me there if they pleased."
Having stayed on the summit for half an hour, they retraced their steps, reaching the Grands Mulets at one o'clock, and Chamonix in the evening.
One of the most remarkable things in connection with this memorable ascent was the vast quantity of liquids and solids consumed, viz:—
93 Bottles of wine,
3 Cognac,
7 Lemonade and syrup,
20 Loaves,
10 Cheeses,
8 Joints of mutton,
6 " veal,
46 Fowls;
besides packages of raisins, prunes, sugar, salt, and wax candles! The cost of this amounted to 456 francs, which, added to 1881 francs for the guides' fees, &c., brought up the sum total to 2337 francs, or £93 10s., which sum, divided by four—the number of tourists—gives £23. 7s. 6d. each. Thanks to the enterprising individual who manages the "Cabanes" at Pierre Pointue and the Grands Mulets, it is no longer necessary to take provisions; therefore, reader, should you ever visit those stations, do not grumble at the bill, but remember Albert Smith![A]
[A] This and the foregoing ascents are condensed from Albert Smith's "Mont Blanc."
1866.—Sir George Young, with his brothers James and Albert, succeeded in reaching the Summit without guides or porters. Shortly after commencing the descent one of the brothers fell a depth of twenty feet and broke his neck. The survivors managed to reach the Grands Mulets at two in the morning. An hour later six guides arrived from Chamonix, and although Sir George had been on foot twenty-four hours he placed himself at the head of these men to recover his brother's body. In the meanwhile another party had come up, but they did not proceed further than the Grands Mulets. Early in the afternoon six of these guides went forward to render what assistance they could; and at five three more followed, carrying refreshments with them. At half-past seven the whole party returned, bringing the corpse with them. Sir George at once went down to Chamonix, which he reached about three in the morning, having been on foot for two days and two nights!