Don-Caster.
Up-hill and Down-dale.
UP HILL AND DOWN DALE:
NARRATIVE OF AN ASCENT TO THE SUMMIT OF PRIMROSE HILL.
BY MESSRS. POPKINS AND VULT.
The celebrated Primrose Hill, which is estimated to be nearly one hundred feet above the level of the Regent's Canal, forms one end of the great chain of the Metropolitan Alps, which comprises the respective hills of Highgate, Ludgate, Snow, Saffron, Mutton, Addle, Tower, Corn, Constitution, and many other peaks. Whilst the enterprises of Sherwill, Clarke, De Saussure, Auldjo, and others, had carried them to the summit of Mont Blanc, and M. Agassiz had overcome the hitherto impracticable Jungfrau, and given their published accounts to the world, it is somewhat strange that no narrative has hitherto been published of the ascent of Primrose Hill. To supply this void in our literature, as well as to furnish an account to Peter Parley, which, in the event of his refusing, I should have sent to the "Penny Magazine," I was induced to undertake the excursion. Although the time of year was somewhat against me, yet, from the noble offer of Mr. Vult, whom I met casually in the diving-bell at the bottom of the tank in the Polytechnic Institution, I determined, at all risks, to make the attempt.
On inquiry, we found that the charity boys of the district schools were best acquainted with the localities, and we therefore engaged four of them as guides. Their parents did not seem to comprehend our intentions, but possibly this arose from reluctance to allow their children to join our venture: but we overcame their scruples by offers of liberal payment, and named the eldest ("Plucky Simmuns" as he was familiarly termed by his fellows) as our chief guide. We also contracted with a broom merchant in Kentish Town for our ice-poles.
The next morning at nine o'clock, and in a deep snow, we left the Albany Tavern, amidst a crowd collected to see us start; and crossing some palings and a piece of broken ground, prepared to ascend. Our progress soon became one of extreme peril, as the snow had been collected from Park Village, and shot out on this waste, forming vast hills, which required great labour to surmount. Once I completely stuck fast, and before I was extricated nearly left one of my cloth boots behind me. Our respiration also became very difficult, evidently from the rarefaction of the air at so great a height, although Mr. Vult persisted in attributing it to the hot rolls we had eaten at breakfast. We crossed this large confusion of snow, which we presumed to be part of the Chalk Farm Glacier, and were astonished, on arriving at the opposite side, to see a man in these wild solitudes. He was evidently a child of the mountain, and proffered for sale an article he termed "ginger cocktail," which he assured us would prove most palatable. We bought some, and went on.