We however entered on the glacier with confidence in the skill and prudence of our guides; several of whom being hunters, and accustomed to chase the chamois over such places, were acquainted with all the precautions, that it was necessary to take for our safety. To avoid the danger of falling into the crevices, especially those masked by the snow, we connected ourselves, three persons together, at the distance of 10 or 12 feet apart, by a cord round the body: so that in case of one of the three falling into a chasm, the other two could at least support him, until assistance could be procured from the rest of the party.
Each person was provided with a pole, 6 feet long, and pointed at the bottom with iron, which we found to be a necessary article. Where the crevices were not more than two or three feet broad, we leaped over them with the assistance of our staff; others we passed on natural bridges of snow, that threatened every moment to sink with us into the abyss, and over others, we made a bridge of the ladder, which was extremely slight, as otherwise it would have been impossible for a man to carry it up the steeps we had ascended. Without its assistance, we could not have passed the glacier. Over this slender support we crawled with caution, suspended over a chasm, into which we could see to an immense depth; but of which in no instance could we see the bottom. We were sometimes forced to pass on a narrow ridge of treacherous ice, not more than a foot in breadth, with one of these terrific chasms on either side. The firm step, with which we saw our guides pass these difficulties, inspired us with confidence: but I cannot even now think of some of the situations we were placed in, without a feeling of dread; and especially when in bed, and in the silence of the night, they present themselves to my imagination, I involuntarily shrink with horror at the idea, and am astonished in recollecting what little sensation I felt at the moment.
We threw down into some of the narrow cracks, pieces of ice and fragments of rock, and heard for a considerable time, the more and more distant sound, as they bounded from side to side. In no instance could we perceive the stone strike the bottom; but the sound, instead of ceasing suddenly, as would then have been the case, grew fainter and fainter, until it was too feeble to be heard. What then must be the immense depth of these openings, when in these silent regions, the noise of a large stone striking the bottom is too distant to be heard at the orifice!
The number of openings we met with, which were broader than the length of our ladder, and which, of course, we had no means of crossing, rendered our path extremely circuitous. We were often enabled, by the ladder's assistance, to scale high and perpendicular banks of snow. It sometimes proved too short to reach to the top; but where the steep was not absolutely perpendicular, we contrived in several instances to remedy this inconvenience. One of the guides, standing on the top of the ladder, enabled the rest, who clambered up by his assistance, and over his shoulders, to reach the summit; when there, we easily drew up him and the ladder with cords.
We were occasionally compelled to retrace our steps, and we were frequently so involved in the intricacies of the glacier, that we had to remain without proceeding, a considerable time, until the guides, who were dispersed in every direction on the discovery, could find a practical path to extricate us.
In addition to these difficulties, I had not been long on the glacier, before I perceived that my faithless boot had given way; which, as every thing depended upon the state of our feet, was a serious misfortune. Necessity, however, is the mother of invention, and I contrived to bind it with cords in such a manner, that it served me tolerably well the rest of the journey.
In consequence of all these obstacles, we only arrived at 5 o'clock at the "Grand Mulet," not more than four or five miles distant, in a straight line from the point where we entered on the glacier; but, from the circuitous route we had taken, we could not have walked less, in this distance, than 14 or 15 miles. We were now 11,000 feet above the level of the sea, and 8,000 feet above the village of Chamouny. A niche on the steep side, and near the top of the rock, about a hundred and fifty feet from its base, and to which we had much difficulty in climbing, was selected for our lodging place; indeed it was the only part of the rock, that afforded any thing like a level place. We were fortunate in finding the day had been so warm, that there was water in some of the crevices of the ice, which circumstance enabled us to economize our charcoal. The sun shone very bright on our side of the rock; but as soon as it sunk below the horizon, the eternal frost around us regained its influence, and the air became very cold. We had, however, time to dry our boots and pantaloons, and I found a pair of large woolen stockings, that I had with me, an invaluable article. Our guides stretched the ladder from one point of the rock to another, and, throwing over it a couple of sheets they had brought for the purpose, formed a kind of tent, just large enough for Dr. Van Rensselaer and myself to creep in: a single blanket upon the rock was our bed. The guides were so loaded with indispensable articles, that we had not been able to bring a blanket, or even an extra coat to cover us.
After a cold and uncomfortable supper, we crept into our den, soon after the genial sun had left us, and endeavoured, by every means our ingenuity could suggest, but ineffectually, to keep ourselves warm. We suffered much from the cold, but principally towards morning, as the thermometer was several degrees below freezing. The night seemed to last at least twenty hours; at one time I thought the day must certainly be not distant, and was surprised, at looking at my watch by the light of the moon, to find it only 11 o'clock. Tired of inaction, and shivering with the cold, I crawled out about midnight to endeavour to warm myself, by the exercise of clambering on the rock. The view around was sublime, and rendered me for a time insensible to all feelings of personal suffering.
The sky was very clear, but perfectly black; the moon and stars, whose rays were not obscured by passing through the lower dense region of the atmosphere, as when seen from the surface of the earth, shone with a brilliancy, tenfold of what I had ever observed from below; and the comet, with its bright tail, formed in the north-west, a beautiful object. Nothing was to be seen around the rock on which we were placed, but white snow and some heavy clouds, that, floating below us, shut out the valley from our view. The guides appeared to be all asleep, and the only interruption to the silence of death, was the occasional avalanche, rolling with the sound of distant thunder from the highest part of the surrounding glaciers, and heightening the feelings of awful sublimity, which our situation was so calculated to inspire.
As our lodging was extremely uncomfortable in every respect, we were under no temptation of lying till a late hour in the morning. On the contrary, we hailed with joy the first appearance of the dawn, which enabled us to substitute the warmth of marching, for the cold inactivity from which we had suffered all night. We set out at three o'clock, leaving most of our provisions and other articles on the rock. Four hours of laborious, but not dangerous walking, brought us to a large plain, called the 'Grand Plateau,' which is nearly surrounded, (on the one hand) by a spur of Mont Blanc, and the Aiguille du Midi; on the other, by the Montagne de la Côte, while Mont Blanc presents itself directly in front. These mountains form a steep amphitheatre around this plain. Here we stopped an hour to breakfast, and to recruit strength for the last and most difficult part of the ascent. We were now more than 12,000 feet above the level of the sea, and only 3,000 feet lower than the summit, which was in full view before us. But I looked around, in vain, for any part of its steep sides that seemed to offer a possibility of being scaled, and when the guides pointed out the route we were to take, among and over precipices, and huge broken masses of snow, and up almost perpendicular steeps, I involuntarily shrunk at the prospect, and could not forbear casting my eye wistfully at our road back. But it would not have done to be deterred at this time by a few difficulties; and a moment's reflection, on the skill and experience of our guides, renewed our confidence, and we began cheerfully to mount the first steep before us. We here began to feel more seriously an effect, that is always experienced at considerable heights, and which had not much incommoded us before. It was impossible for the strongest of us, to take more than twenty or thirty steps, without stopping to take breath, and this effect gradually increased as we continued to ascend; insomuch, that when near the summit, even the stoutest of our guides, who could run for leagues over the lower mountains without panting, could not take more than twelve, or at most fifteen steps, without being ready to sink for want of breath. If we attempted to exceed this number by even three or four steps, a horrible oppression, as of approaching death, seized us; our limbs became excessively painful, and threatened to sink under us. It is very possible, that Walter Scot's hero,