A. The Death of Bennen.253

On February 28, 1864, Mr. P. C. Gosset and Mr. B—— started from the village of Ardon (about mid-way between Sion and Martigny), to make the ascent of the Haut-de-Cry (9688 feet), with the guides J. J. Nance, F. Rebot, A. Bevard, and J. J. Bennen. They arrived within a few hundred feet of the summit before mid-day, and determined to complete the ascent by following the crest of a ridge leading towards the east. Before this could be done it was necessary to cross some steep snow; and, while passing this, an avalanche was unfortunately started. Bennen and Mr. B—— perished; the others happily escaped. The following narrative, from the pen of Mr. Gosset, illustrates, in a very impressive manner, the danger of traversing new-fallen snow at considerable inclinations:—

B. Struck by Lightning upon the Matterhorn.254

[Mr. B. B. Heathcote, of Chingford, Essex, whilst attempting to ascend the Matterhorn by the southern route, was unfortunately used as a lightning-conductor, when he was within 500 feet of the summit of the mountain. It may be observed that the Matterhorn (like all isolated Alpine rock summits) is frequently struck by lightning. Signor Giordano has pointed out elsewhere that he found numerous traces of electric discharges upon its summit.]255

It was stated in the commencement of this chapter that the Pointe des Ecrins was the highest mountain in France. I have learned, since that paragraph was written, that Captain Mieulet has determined that the height of the Aiguille Verte is 13,540 feet; that mountain is consequently 78 feet higher than the Pointe des Ecrins, and is the highest in France.

D. Subsequent History of the Matterhorn.258

The Val Tournanche natives who started to facilitate the way up the south-west ridge of the Matterhorn for MM. Giordano and Sella, pitched their tent upon my third platform, at the foot of the Great Tower (12,992 feet), and enjoyed several days of bad weather under its shelter. On the first fine day (13th of July) they began their work, and about midday on the 14th got on to the “shoulder,” and arrived at the base of the final peak (the point where Bennen stopped on July 28, 1862). The counsels of the party were then divided. Two—Jean-Antoine Carrel and Joseph Maquignaz—wished to go on; the others were not eager about it. A discussion took place, and the result was they all commenced to descend, and whilst upon the “cravate” (13,524) they heard our cries from the summit.259 Upon the 15th they went down to Breil and reported their ill-success to M. Giordano (see p. 281). That gentleman was naturally much disappointed, and pressed the men to set out again.260 Said he, “Until now I have striven for the honour of making the first ascent,—fate has decided [pg 305]against me,—I am beaten. Patience! Now, if I make further sacrifices it will be on your account, for your honour, and for your interests. Will you start again to settle the question, or, at least, to let there be no more uncertainty?” The majority of the men (in fact the whole of them with the exception of Jean-Antoine) refused point-blank to have anything more to do with the mountain. Carrel, however, stepped forward, saying, “As for me, I have not given it up; if you (turning to the Abbé Gorret) or the others will come, I will start again immediately.” “Not I!” said one. “No more for me,” cried a second. “If you would give me a thousand francs I would not go back,” said a third. The Abbé Gorret alone volunteered. This plucky priest was concerned in the very first attempts upon the mountain,261 and is an enthusiastic mountaineer. Carrel and the Abbé would have set out by themselves had not J. B. Bich and J.-A. Meynet (two men in the employ of Favre the innkeeper) come forward at the last moment. M. Giordano also wished to accompany them, but the men knew the nature of the work they had to undertake, and positively declined to be accompanied by an amateur.

These four men left Breil at 6.30 A.M. on July 16, at 1 P.M. arrived at the third tent-platform, and there passed the night. At daybreak on the 17th they continued the ascent by the route which had been taken before; passed successively the Great Tower, the “crête du coq,” the “cravate,” and the “shoulder,”262 and at 10 A.M. gained the point at the foot of the final peak from which the explorers had turned back on the 14th.263 They had then about 800 feet to accomplish, and, says the Abbé, “nous allions entrer en pays inconnu, aucun n’étant jamais allé aussi loin.”

The passage of the cleft which stopped Bennen was accomplished, and then the party proceeded directly towards the summit, over rocks which for some distance were not particularly difficult. The steep cliffs down which we had hurled stones (on the 14th) then stopped their way, and Carrel led round to the left or Z’Mutt side. The work at this part was of the very greatest difficulty, and stones and icicles which fell rendered the position of the party very precarious;264 so much so that they preferred to turn up directly towards the summit, and climb by rocks that the Abbé termed “almost perpendicular.” He added, “This part occupied the most time, and gave us the greatest trouble.” At length they arrived at a fault in the rocks which formed a roughly horizontal gallery. They crept along this in the direction of a ridge that descended towards the north-west, or thereabouts, and when close to the [pg 306]ridge, found that they could not climb on to it; but they perceived that, by descending a gully with perpendicular sides, they could reach the ridge at a lower point. The bold Abbé was the heaviest and the strongest of the four, and he was sacrificed for the success of the expedition. He and Meynet remained behind, and lowered the others, one by one, into the gully. Carrel and Bich clambered up the other side, attained the ridge descending towards the north-west, shortly afterwards gained an “easy route, they galloped,”265 and in a few minutes reached the southern end of the summit-ridge.

The time of their arrival does not appear to have been noticed. It was late in the day, I believe about 3 P.M. Carrel and his comrade only waited long enough to plant a flag by the side of the cairn that we had built three days previously, then descended at once, rejoined the others, and all four hurried down as fast as possible to the tent. They were so pressed for time that they could not eat! and it was 9 P.M. before they arrived at their camp at the foot of the Great Tower. In descending they followed the gallery above mentioned throughout its entire length, and so avoided the very difficult rocks over which they had passed on the ascent. As they were traversing the length of the “shoulder” they witnessed the phenomenon to which I have already adverted at the foot of p. 289.

When Carrel and Bich were near the summit they saw our traces upon the Matterhorngletscher, and suspected that an accident had occurred; they did not, however, hear of the Matterhorn catastrophe until their return to Breil, at 3 P.M. upon the 18th. The details of that sad event were in the mouths of all, and it was not unnaturally supposed, in the absence of correct information, that the accident was a proof that the northern side was frightfully dangerous. The safe return of the four Italians was regarded, on the other hand, as evidence that the Breil route was the best. Those who were interested (either personally or otherwise) in the Val Tournanche made the most of the circumstances, and trumpeted the praises of the southern route. Some went farther, and instituted comparisons between the two routes to the disadvantage of the northern one, and were pleased to term our expedition on the 13-14th of July precipitate, and so forth. Considering the circumstances which caused us to leave the Val Tournanche on the 12th of July, these remarks were not in the best possible taste, but I have no feeling regarding them. There may be some, however, who may be interested in a comparison of the two routes, and for their sakes I will place the essential points in juxtaposition. We (that is the Taugwalders and myself) were absent from Zermatt 53 hours. Excluding halts and stoppages of one sort or another, the ascent and descent occupied us 23 hours. Zermatt is 5315 feet above the level of the sea, and the Matterhorn is 14,780; we had therefore to ascend 9465 feet. As far as the point marked 10,820 feet the way was known, so we had to find the way over only 3960 feet. The members of our party (I now include all) were very unequal in ability, and none of us could for a moment be compared as cragsmen with Jean-Antoine Carrel. The four Italians who started from Breil on the 16th of July were absent during [pg 307]56½ hours, and as far as I can gather from the published account, and from conversation with the men, excluding halts, they took for the ascent and descent 23¾ hours. The hotel at Breil is 6890 feet above the sea, so they had to ascend 7890 feet. As far as the end of the “shoulder” the way was known to Carrel, and he had to find the way over only about 800 feet. All four men were born mountaineers, good climbers, and they were led by the most expert cragsman I have seen. The weather in each instance was fine. It is seen, therefore, that these four nearly equally matched men took a longer time to ascend 1500 feet less height than ourselves, although we had to find the way over more than four times as much untrodden ground as they. This alone would lead any mountaineer to suppose that their route must have been more difficult than ours.266 I know the greater part of the ground over which they passed, and from my knowledge, and from the account of Mr. Grove, I am sure that their route was not only more difficult, but that it was much more difficult than ours.

This was not the opinion in the Val Tournanche at the end of 1865, and the natives confidently reckoned that tourists would flock to their side in preference to the other. It was, I believe, the late Canon Carrel of Aosta (who always took great interest in such matters) who first proposed the construction of a cabane upon the southern side of the Matterhorn. The project was taken up with spirit, and funds for its execution were speedily provided—principally by the members of the Italian Alpine Club, or by their friends. The indefatigable Carrel found a natural hole upon the ledge called the “cravate” (13,524), and this, in course of time, was turned, under his direction, into a respectable little hut. Its position is superb, and gives a view of the most magnificent character.

Whilst this work was being carried out, my friend Mr. F. Craufurd Grove consulted me respecting the ascent of the Matterhorn. I recommended him to ascend by the northern route, and to place himself in the hands of Jean-Antoine Carrel. Mr. Grove found, however, that Carrel distinctly preferred the southern side, and they ascended accordingly by the Breil route. Mr. Grove has been good enough to supply the following account of his expedition. He carries on my description of the southern route from the highest point I attained on that side (a little below the “cravate”) to the summit, and thus renders complete my descriptions of the two sides.

Mr. Craufurd Grove was the first traveller who ascended the Matterhorn after the accident, and the natives of Val Tournanche were, of course, greatly delighted that his ascent was made upon their side. Some of them, however, were by no means well pleased that J.-A. Carrel was so much regarded. They feared, perhaps, that he would acquire the monopoly of the mountain. Just a month after Mr. Grove’s ascent, six Valtournanchians set out to see whether they could not learn the route, and so come in for a share of the good things which were expected to arrive. They were three Maquignaz’s, Cæsar Carrel (my old guide), J.-B. Carrel, and a daughter of the last named! They left Breil at 5 A.M. on Sept. 12, and at 3 P.M. arrived at the hut, where they passed the night. At 7 A.M. the next day they started again (leaving J.-B. Carrel behind), and proceeded along the “shoulder” to the final peak; passed the cleft which had stopped Bennen, and clambered up the comparatively easy rocks on the other side until they arrived at the base of the last precipice, down which we had hurled stones on July 14, 1865. They (young woman and all) were then about 350 feet from the summit! Then, instead of turning to the left, as Carrel and Mr. Grove had done, Joseph and J.-Pierre Maquignaz paid attention to the cliff in front of them, and managed to find a means of passing up, by clefts, ledges, and gullies, to the summit. This was a shorter (and it appears to be an easier) route than that taken by Carrel and Grove, and it has been followed by all those who have since then ascended the mountain from the side of Breil.269 Subsequently, a rope was fixed over the most difficult portions of the final climb.

In the meantime they had not been idle upon the other side. A hut was constructed upon the eastern face, at a height of 12,526 feet above the sea, near to the crest of the ridge which descends towards Zermatt (north-east ridge). This was done at the expense of Monsieur Seiler and of the Swiss Alpine Club. Mons. Seiler placed the execution of the work under the direction of the Knubels, of the village of St. Nicholas, in the Zermatt valley; and Peter Knubel, along with Joseph Marie Lochmatter of the same village, had the honour of making the second ascent of the mountain upon the northern side with Mr. Elliott. This took place on July 24-25, 1868. Since then [pg 310]very numerous ascents have been made both on the Swiss and upon the Italian side. The list of ascents will, however, show that far more have been made by the Zermatt or northern route than by the Breil or southern route.

Mr. Elliott supposed that he avoided the place where the accident occurred, and that he improved the northern route. This, however, is not the case. Both he and the others who have succeeded him have followed in all essential points the route which we took upon July 13-15, 1865, with the exception of the deviations which I will point out. Upon leaving Zermatt, the traveller commences by crossing a bridge which is commonly termed the Matterhorn bridge, and proceeds to the chapel at the Schwarzsee. Thence he mounts the Hörnli, and follows its ridge along its entire length right up to the foot of the Matterhorn. There is now a good path along the whole of this ridge, but when we traversed it for the First Ascent there was not even so much as a faintly marked track. The first steps which are taken upon the mountain itself follow the exact line over which I myself led upon the first ascent, and the track presently passes over the precise spot upon which our tent was placed in 1865. In 1874, and again in 1876, I saw the initials which I marked on the rock by the side of our tent. The route now taken passes this rock, and then goes round the corner of the buttress to which I referred upon p. 276. At this point the route now followed deviates somewhat from the line of our ascent, and goes more directly up to the part of the north-east ridge upon which the Cabane is placed. We bore more away on to the face of the mountain, and proceeded [pg 311]more directly towards the summit. At the upper part of the ascent of the north-east ridge the route now taken is exactly that of the first ascent until the foot of the final peak is reached; and there, instead of bearing away to the right, as we did, the tourist now clambers up directly towards the summit by means of the fixed ropes and chains. The final portion of the ascent, over the snow at the summit, again follows our route.

So far as the Cabane there is now a strongly marked track, almost a path, [pg 312]over the mountain; and little piles of stones, placed in prominent situations, point out the way even to the dullest person. What the Cabane itself is like will be seen by reference to the illustration which faces p. 309. It is placed in a very insecure position, and will probably one of these days disappear by disintegration. It is not easy at this part of the mountain to find a good situation for a hut, though there is plenty of choice both higher up and lower down.

Amongst the ascents that have been made which are most worthy of note, that made by Signor Giordano may be mentioned first. This gentleman came to Breil several times after his famous visit in 1865, with the intention of making the ascent, but he was always baffled by the weather. In July 1866 he got as high as the “cravate” (with J. A. Carrel and other men) and was detained there five days and nights, unable to move either up or down. At last, upon Sept. 3-5, 1868, he was able to gratify his desires, and accomplished the feat of ascending the mountain on one side and descending it upon the other. Signor Giordano is, I believe, the only geologist who has ascended the mountain. He spent a considerable time in the examination of its structure, and became benighted on its eastern face in consequence. I am indebted to him for the valuable note and the accompanying section which follow the Table of Ascents. Signor Giordano carried a mercurial barometer throughout the entire distance, and read it frequently. His observations have enabled me to determine with confidence and accuracy the heights which were attained upon the different attempts to ascend the mountain, and the various points upon it which have been so frequently mentioned throughout this volume.

Questions having been frequently put to me respecting the immediate summit of the Matterhorn, and difficulties having been expressed as to the recognition of the two views given upon pp. 279 and 281, I made an ascent of the mountain in 1874 to photograph the summit, in order that I might see what changes had occurred since our visit of ten years before. The summits of all high mountains vary from time to time, and I was not surprised to find that the Matterhorn was no exception to the general rule. It was altogether sharper and narrower in 1874 than 1865. Instead of being able “to run about,” every step had to be painfully cut with the axe; and the immediate summit, instead of being a blunt and rounded eminence, was a little piled-up cone of snow which went to a very sharp point. Our photographic operations were conducted with difficulty, for a furious north wind was blowing which would have whisked away the camera immediately if it had been set up in the most convenient position for taking a view; and we were compelled to cut a great gash in the snow and to work down upon the edge of the cliff overlooking Breil before we could escape from the gusts which were whirling away the snow in writhing eddies. My guides J. A. Carrel, Bic, and Lochmatter formed a strong party, and eventually we gained a position, protected from the wind, whence there was a good view of the summit; but our ledge was so small that we could not venture to unrope, and Carrel had to squat down whilst I photographed over his head. The engraving upon p. 311 has been made from the photograph so taken. It will interest some of my readers to know that the nearest peak, seen below, is the summit of the Dent d’Hérens.

At the time that this was taking place on the southern side of the Matterhorn, an accident occurred on the north-east face by which a life was lost. Messrs. A. E. Craven and Dr. Moseley (of Boston), with the guides Peter Rubi and C. Inabnit, left Zermatt at 10.30 P.M. on the night of August 13, and ascended the mountain by the usual northern route without stopping at the hut. They reached the summit at 9 A.M. on the 14th, and had returned to within a short distance of the hut, when Dr. Moseley (who had found it irksome to be tied up, and had frequently wished to go unroped) untied himself from the rest, doing so entirely upon his own responsibility. A few minutes later, and within quite a short distance of the hut, the party had to cross a projecting piece of rock. Rubi went over first, and planted his axe in position to give [pg 314]firm footing to Dr. Moseley, who followed. But, unhappily, he declined assistance; placed his hand on the rock, and endeavoured to vault over it. In doing so he slipped, lost hold of his axe, and fell with ever accelerating velocity down almost the whole of the north-east face. He fell about 2000 feet, and was of course killed on the spot. His body was recovered three days later, and was interred in the English burying-ground at Zermatt.