■»■■- -#»» 
 
 
 

 
 Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN
 
 
 CO 
 =1 o p
 
 fa >-
 
 ASCENT 
 
 TO THE SUMMIT OF 
 
 MONT BLANC 
 
 IN 
 
 1834. 
 
 BY 
 
 MARTIN BARRY, 
 
 M. D., F. R. S. E. 
 
 PRESIDEXT OF THE ROYAL jMEDICAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH, 
 
 MEMBER OF THE WERNERIAN NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY, 
 
 &C. 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS, EDINBURGH; 
 
 AND T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON. 
 
 MDCCCXXXVI.
 
 PRINTKD BY NEILL & CO. OLD FISHMARKET.
 
 4^ 
 
 ROBERT JAMESON, F. R. SS. L. & E., 
 
 F. L. S., F. G. S. 
 
 PRESIDENT OF THE WERNERIAN NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY, 
 
 REGIUS PROFESSOR OF NATURAL HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH, 
 
 &C. &C. 
 
 THE FOLLOWING NARRATIVE 
 
 IS 
 
 RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 
 
 BY 
 
 HIS FORMER PUPIL, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 

 
 The following narrative contains the substance of two lectures 
 delivered in the Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh, in March 1836, for 
 the benefit of an excellent Institution, — the Royal Infirmary of 
 that city, — in which the author had been a piipil.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 A SHORT account of this ascent of Mont 
 Blanc was published in the Edinburgh New 
 Philosophical Jom-nal, Vol. xviii. No. 35 ; be- 
 yond which, — with the interesting narrative 
 by Auldjo already before the public, — it was 
 not proposed to extend it. But having since 
 been made the subject of two lectures, — in pre- 
 paring which, some information was collected, 
 likely to be found generally useful, — and as 
 any contribution seems allowable, on the sub- 
 ject of a track so few have taken, — the narra- 
 tive is now published in a separate form. 
 
 The following pages contain the lectures 
 nearly as delivered ; with the addition of a 
 short account of the early attempts to reach 
 the summit of Mont Blanc. 
 
 The observations on the effects of dimi-
 
 11 PREFACE. 
 
 iiislicd atniosplicric dcnsitj on ]'e.si)iration 
 and other functions, are condensed from a 
 paper by the author, lately read before the 
 Royal Society of Edinburgh. 
 
 The large drawing appended, will serve, — 
 it is presumed, — as no mean substitute for the 
 model, used at the lectures. The former Avas 
 executed for me by a talented lithographer ; * 
 and the latter by a rising young sculptor, and 
 portrait-modeller : f — both of Edinburgh. 
 
 The model has been presented to the Royal 
 Museum of Natural History in the University 
 of Edinburgh, — as a work of art, not unde- 
 serving of a place among the works of nature, 
 — and as a production worthy of a Scottish 
 artist. 
 
 It covers forty -eight square feet. Arthm-'s 
 Seat, — ^near Edinburgh, — on the same scale, 
 might be represented by a mouse. 
 
 * Murray. t Slater.
 
 FIRST LECTURE. 
 
 Hot summer of 1834 — Heidelberg — Fine autumn — Swit- 
 zerland — Sunrise, and sunset, from the Faulliorn — Arrival 
 at the Col de Balme — First view of Mont Blanc — Goethe's 
 evening approach to Chamonix — Snow-capof Mont Blanc, 
 and Benlomond — Mont Blanc the most considerable 
 mountain known — Chamonix but little known before 1741 
 — Captain Sherwill's sketch of " Chamouni" — Origin of the 
 name " Chamouni" — The summit not wrapped in vapour 
 — Guides consulted at the Priory — their objections — fa- 
 vourable circumstances — Departure for the mountain — 
 Ascent — Pine-Forest — Clialet de la Para — Pierre Poin- 
 tue — Pierre a I'Echelle — Highest tree — Rhododendron 
 fcrrugineum, and other alpine plants — Provisions, &c — 
 Chamois seen — Entrance upon the ice — Iron points for 
 shoes — Nitric acid — Batons — The' glaciers — transverse 
 rents — lateral debris — slips — Glaciers of Bossons and Ta- 
 connaz — Bridges of ice — Crossing the chasms — Narrow 
 crevices concealed — Danger of setting ice in motion — 
 The guides on the glacier — Unseen torrents — Thickness 
 of the ice — Icy desolation of the glaciers — Fissures wi-
 
 deucd, from the lateness of the season — Zig-zag course, 
 and steps retraced — Difficulty and danger in attaining the 
 '^'' Grand Mulct" Rock — The guides Couttet andBalmat — 
 The other guides — Couttet had never found the rock so un- 
 attainable — Scaling two hundred feet of the Grand Mulct 
 Rock — Open shelf of rock — Sunset — Barometer — Cabin — 
 Thirst — A night at the Grand Mulct Rock — Avalanches — 
 Inability to sleep — Reflections — No fatigue — Thermome- 
 ter — Moonlight scene at the Grand Mulct Rock — Morn- 
 ing of the second day — Departure from the Grand Mulct 
 Rock — Held in twos and threes with ropes — The way la- 
 borious, from recent snow — Splendid icy scenery, continu- 
 ally changing — Great difficulties met with, requiring a 
 wide change of route — Success almost despaired of — Ef- 
 fect of depression on our progress — Bridge of ice — Trea- 
 cherous Snow — Ice-rafters of unseen ca\ities — Observers 
 in the valley — Grand Plateau — Incipient loss of appetite 
 — Dark colour of the sky in part, at least, subjective — Ro- 
 chers Rouges — Fatal Avalanche in 1820 — Saussure's route 
 from the Grand Plateau — New route — Sensations — Heat 
 oppressive — Veil — Green spectacles — Insects — Alpine 
 crows — Danger at the Epaule droite — Feet nearly fro- 
 zen — Giddiness — The height of 14,700 feet attained. 
 
 ERRATA. 
 Page 23 — Line 8 from bottom, /or Michal read Michel 
 
 — 36 — Line 7 from top, for 09 read 90 
 
 — 38 — Line 10 from top, /or Devouassou) ; read Devouassoud) ; 
 
 — 82 — Line 12 from top, /or Matezesecki-v^,-^ read Malczewski.
 
 FIRST LECTURE. 
 
 The summer of 1834, spent at Heidelberg 
 in Baden, was one of the hottest known in 
 the south of Germany to any Uving. That de- 
 hcious spot seemed to have Italy's climate, in 
 addition to its own peculiar scenes. Steam- 
 boats were stranded, in some parts ceased to 
 ply, upon the then shalloAv Rhine. But in pro- 
 portion as the waters of that river fell, the 
 vines upon its banks smiled, and there has 
 rarely been so rich a vintage. 
 
 Set, gem-like, among steep mountains, wood- 
 ed to their very tops, Heidelberg claims the 
 passing tribute of a line, from one who can 
 still in memory contemplate its ruined battle- 
 ments, and teiTaces, and prostrate towers, the 
 
 A
 
 2 FINE AUTUMN OF 1834— SWITZERLAND- 
 
 windings of its " Neckar," and its groves of 
 nightingales, as well at early dawn, as by 
 fflowino: sunsets, or when the moon " lends her 
 enchantment" to the silver scene. 
 
 The autmnn, after one great storm, that ren- 
 dered impassable the Simplon and other roads, 
 was a long-continued season of the finest wea- 
 ther. It was spent in rambling, much on foot, 
 through Switzerland. An object of natural 
 history had taken me annually, the preceding 
 four years, among the mountains and the glens 
 of Scotland. I knew well her " northern battle- 
 ment of hills," had seen perhaps the wildest of 
 her Grampian wilds, and now saw them on a 
 larger scale. But there were added, the snow- 
 croTVTied summits of the Alps, the exceeding 
 richness of their vallies, and Swiss cultivation 
 " far up the mountains' side." 
 
 This is not the place to say much of the 
 mountains, now properly called Swiss. One of 
 these, however, repaying more, I think, than 
 any other, the labour of an ascent, is but little 
 known. It is the Faulhorn, a peak of the 
 Oberland of Beme; having, not far off, the 
 Finster-aar and Wetterhorns, the Schreck-
 
 SUNRISE, AND SUNSET, FROM THE FAULHORN. 3 
 
 horn, the Jiingfrau with her silver horn, the 
 Monch, the Eiger, and a host of other pyramids 
 of snow. On its summit there is now a hos- 
 pice, — the highest European habitation, — ten- 
 anted every summer. The view, even from the 
 Rigi, is not so splendid, because of the remote- 
 ness of that mountain from the Alps of Berne. 
 
 I have stood upon the high altar of the Faul- 
 horn. There, at earliest dawn, with the still 
 loftier summits of the other Bernese Alps, 
 mailed with ice, in hue immediately before me, 
 watched, — until the highest peak of all caught 
 the sun's rays, and shone in the twilight as a 
 point of gold ; this standing for a while alone ; 
 and then another, and another mountain-top 
 was gilded, until there was a chain of bright- 
 ness ; then a wall, with pyi-amids, of rosy 
 light ; lastly, the great som'ce of light rose, 
 beaming the refulgence of the morning. From 
 that mountain-top I have beheld, too, a sunset 
 scene, similar in beauty, but reversed ; the 
 glaciers' roseate tint 3delding to a purple hue, 
 and tliis gradually lost in the evening twilight. 
 
 The autumn continuing one of almost cloud- 
 less skies, there was permitted a free range 
 
 A 2
 
 4 ARRIVAL AT THE COL DE BALME. 
 
 through the wildest of the Helvetian fastnesses ; 
 and many a living picture of Swiss alpine 
 splendour is now in memory before me. Yet 
 there remained, beyond the Savoyan ban'ier, 
 scenes still more inaccessibly sublime. 
 
 A route, as it happened, had been taken, not 
 affording, from any point, a view of even the 
 summit of Mont Blanc. The 1 5th of September 
 brought me to the Col de Bahne (9) *, a moun- 
 tain bounding the north-east end of the vale of 
 Chamonix ; and on the top of which, leaving 
 the Canton of Valais, you enter the kingdom 
 of Sardinia, and the Duchy of Savoy. 
 
 The ascent from Martigny, in the valley of 
 the Rhone, was very steep. Nothing was seen, 
 advancing towards the top, besides the rocks 
 that formed it. Wlien, suddenly upheaved it- 
 self a scene of alpine magnificence, long unap- 
 proachable and overwhelming ; an amazing 
 picture, which the eye knew not how to scan, 
 chaining the beholder, lost in an astonished 
 gaze. The prodigies of nature piled up there, 
 cast other, even alpine splendour, far into the 
 shade. 
 
 ""■ Soe (lie large Plate appended.
 
 VIEW OF THE CHAIN OF MONT BLANC. 5 
 
 , A thousand towering, dark, and savage 
 peaks, — lightning-riven battlements, — at whose 
 bases, hardened and heaped up, great depths 
 of ice, bidding defiance to the sunbeams ; and 
 glaciers, winding many a league downwards, 
 thi'ough then- o^vn ravines, like belts of bright- 
 ness, " flung over a region" black with pines. 
 
 Beneath that heaven-high wall of frowning 
 rock and chilling ice, bordering upon the bar- 
 rier of permanent congelation, and like an oasis 
 within a Avilderness of frost, was the green 
 vale of Chamonix, smiling with rural beauty 
 and the abodes of man : the river Arve (49) 
 rising at my feet, and winding its way in silver 
 through the meadow^s of that vale. 
 
 But, for those scenes of softer beauty, the eye 
 was paralyzed, — it saw them not, save in so 
 far as they made, by contrast, the icy regions 
 towering above them, more arctic, chiU, and 
 awfully subhme. To these, the eye, spell- 
 bound, ever returned ; and yet the one great 
 sorcerer of the mighty scene remains unnamed. 
 Sm-rounded by those "ragged heights of 
 rocks," those battlements, toAvering nine thou- 
 sand feet, and more, above the vallev, — so
 
 G GOETHE'S EVENING APPROACH TO CHAMONIX. 
 
 vertical, that snow rests not upon their sides, 
 — there rose, far higher than them all, a snowy 
 pyramid, in proud supremacy, yet placid and 
 serene (56). It was " the father of the Alps," 
 Mont Blanc himself, enthroned among, and 
 guarded by, his dark aiguilles. 
 
 A letter of the German poet Goethe, describ- 
 ing an evening approach to the vale of Cha- 
 monix from Geneva, contains a passage, which 
 I cannot help translating. He says, " It became 
 
 darker, only the greater masses were visible. 
 
 The stars, one after another, rose ; and we ob- 
 served, over the summits of the mountains, a 
 light, which we could not understand. Clear, 
 without lustre, like the Milky Way, yet denser, 
 — almost like the Pleiades, but greater, — it long 
 had our attention, until at last, as we changed 
 our position, like a p3Tamid, pervaded by an 
 inward mysterious light, — most resembling the 
 brightness of a glow-worm, — it projected over 
 the tops of all the mountains, and made us 
 certain that it was the summit of Mont Blanc 
 (56). The beauty of this sight was most extra- 
 ordinary ; for as it shone with the stars that 
 ^tood around it, — not indeed in equally vehe-
 
 SNOW-CAP OF MONT BLANC. 7 
 
 ment light, yet in a broader, more connected 
 mass, — it appeared, to the eye, to belong to a 
 higher sphere, and it required an effort to con- 
 ceive its base fixed to the earth." 
 
 The snow-line of the Alps in the high lati- 
 tude of about 46° N. is only 8,300 feet above 
 the level of the sea ; that of Chimborazo, the 
 highest of the Andes, 15,700 ; and that of the 
 Himmalayan Mountains, in latitude about 32° 
 N., 17,000. Hence, though Mont Blanc is not 
 equal in elevation, its covering of permanent 
 snow occupies a cone, nearly one half higher 
 than that of Chimborazo, and scarcely inferior 
 to that of the highest peak of the Asiatic range. 
 a. The snow-cap, a, of Mont 
 
 /[ j\ 6 Blanc is twice the height 
 
 /^S^i3^;^\/ \\ of Benlomond, h ; and hav- 
 
 ^""^ -V^----A-- .^ jj^g twice the height, its base 
 
 may be considered as having four times the area; 
 hence the snow-cap of Mont Blanc would con- 
 
 Base. Height. 
 
 tain eight of Benlomond (4x2 — 8). Taking 
 the whole of Mont Blanc, its height above the 
 level of the sea is = 4^ times that of Benlo- 
 mond ; the base of the former has, therefore, 
 an area = 20J times that of the base of the lat-
 
 8 CHAMONIX BUT LITTLE KNOWN BEFORE 1741. 
 
 ter, and the solid content of Mont Blanc is thus 
 more than 90 (= 01^) times that of Benlomond. 
 And if Mont Blanc be considered, — not as re- 
 gards its height above the level of the sea, 
 but, as rising directly from the vale of Cha- 
 monix, we find it the most considerable moun- 
 tain known ; for its summit is 12,300 feet 
 above that valley, — Chimborazo not more than 
 11,600 above Tapia, — and the loftiest Himmala- 
 yan peak, only 10,800 above the level of the 
 low^est plain of Thibet. 
 
 The vale of Chamonix seems to have been 
 quite unknown to tourists, until within nine- 
 ty-five years of the present time. "It was 
 in 1741," says Ebel, " that the celebrated tra- 
 veller Pocock, and another Englishman named 
 Wyndham, visited it, and gave to Em-ope, and 
 to the whole world, the first notions of a coun- 
 try, which is situated at the distance of only 
 eighteen leagues from Geneva. As every body 
 thought that this valley was a den of banditti, 
 and of barbarous and savage people, the reso- 
 lution of these gentlemen to visit it was blam- 
 ed ; they were so seriously counselled to be 
 upon their guard, that they set off from Gene-
 
 CAPTAIN SHERWILL'S SKETCH OF " CHAMOUNI." 
 
 va, armed to the very teeth, with a number of 
 servants no less armed ; they did not ventm-e 
 to enter any house in the valley, but encamp- 
 ed under tents, and kept up fires, and a watch 
 by sentinels, the whole night. The mountains 
 of the neighbourhood were then knoTvn imder 
 the name of Montagues Maudites or Cursed 
 Mountains." Such is the account given by 
 Dr Ebel,* of the discovery of Chamonix, in 
 1741. 
 
 Captain Sherwill,f however, has satisfactori- 
 ly shewn, that a convent of Benedictine monks 
 having been founded at Chamonix, by Count 
 Aymon of Geneva, about the year 1090, other 
 persons settled there ; that the bishops of Ge- 
 neva, as well as others, repeatedly visited the val- 
 ley ; and that it was lvno^^^l, and had communi- 
 cation Avith the neighbouring toA\Tis, dm-ing six 
 hundred and fifty years previous to the visit 
 of Pocock and "VVyndham, in 1741 : 3^et he 
 adds his conviction, that the valley would have 
 remained comparatively unknown to travellers, 
 had not the "indefatigable zeal and manly pru- 
 
 * " Manuel du Voyageur en Suisse^ traduit de rAllcmand." 
 t " Historical Sketch of the Valley of Chamouni."
 
 10 ORIGIN OF THE NAME " CIIAMOUNI." 
 
 dence" of these English gentlemen, urged 
 them on to examine the hidden beauties of 
 this then neglected corner of the world. 
 
 Captain Sherwill considers, that the origin 
 of the name " Chamouni" may be found in 
 two words, occurring in the Latin deed of gift 
 by Count Ajonon to the Convent : these are, 
 " campus mu7iitus,'" i. q., fortified field ; the lofty 
 mountains and inaccessible aiguilles, that sur- 
 round the valley on aU sides, being, no doubt, 
 the natural defence or fortification here impUed : 
 " but, to arrive at the literal word ' Chamouni,' 
 we must translate them into French, or into the 
 patois of the country, and the signification is 
 equally good in both ; for instance — ' campus^ 
 champ, Sind'munitus,' muni. Theterm ' Prieure,' 
 was generally used until the year 1330 ; when 
 the few cottages, that surrounded the monas- 
 tic building, assumed the name of Chamouni." 
 
 But, returning to my own station on the Col 
 de Balme (9), the summit was not wrapped in 
 vapour, — the sky was most serene. Not un- 
 frequently may that spot be visited, with a 
 view of the base alone ; how often, seeing not 
 more than the shoidder of the mountain ; how
 
 AN ASCENT NOT LONG CONTEMPLATED. 11 
 
 still more often, while other, even lofty moun- 
 tain-tops are visible, that snow-haired " mo- 
 narch of the Alps" alone, is canopied in clouds. 
 This is not the time to discuss the question, 
 whether my object in attempting to ascend the 
 mountain was, or was not, commensm-ate with 
 all the risk and all the danger : it will be suffi- 
 cient now to say, that the idea of an ascent, con- 
 ceived but a few hours before, became at the 
 Col de Balme a settled purpose. 
 
 " Und •wohnt er droben auf dem Eispallast 
 
 Des Schreckhorns, oder hoher, wo die Jungfrau 
 Seit Ewigkcit verschleiert sitzt — let mache 
 Mir Bahn zu ihm."* 
 
 While I was on the Col, there came up a 
 party fi*om the vaUey, attended by a guide of 
 Chamonix. The latter had ascended Mont 
 Blanc once, but said he would never go again, 
 and tried to dissuade me from making the at- 
 tempt. 
 
 On my an-ival at the Priory of Chamonix (48) 
 that evening, guides were consulted, as to the 
 probable practicability of an ascent. It was ob- 
 jected, in the first place, that the season was 
 too far advanced, and secondly, that some snow 
 
 * Schiller.
 
 12 GUIDES CONSULTED AT THE PRIORY. 
 
 had recently fallen, which had not had time to 
 harden : as a consequence of the first obstacle, 
 that the days were too short, and that the fis- 
 sures had probably widened ; of the second, that 
 the way would be rendered not only more dif- 
 ficidt, but more dangerous also, from the newly- 
 fallen snow lightly covering, aud thus conceal- 
 ing, the smaller crevices. Avalanches, too, 
 were likely to occur more frequently, with a 
 layer of recent snow. On the other hand, the 
 weather had never, perhaps, presented a more 
 favourable opportunity ; the moon was nearly 
 full ; I was in excellent " training," from hav- 
 ing lately climbed some of the heights in Swit- 
 zerland ; and additional interest was given to 
 the undertaking, from the lapse of four years 
 since the last ascent ; which, according to a list 
 seen at the Priory, was made by a fellow-coun- 
 trj^nan. Captain E. B. Wilbraham, in 1830.* 
 
 Taking all circumstances into consideration, 
 I resolved to make the attempt, and having, 
 not without some hesitation on their parts, en- 
 gaged six guides, I set out the next morning, 
 
 * I was informed that an attempt had been made this summer, 
 (1834) by two gentlemen of Savoy ; but that, from bad weather, 
 it had failed.
 
 ASCENT— PINE FOREST— PIERRE A L'ECHELLE. 13 
 
 September the 16th, at half-past eight o'clock. 
 A rumour of the enterprise had become general 
 in the village, and, in consequence, there was a 
 group of persons near the Hotel de 1' Union*, 
 to witness om* departure. The cottagers too, 
 as we passed through the valley (78), gave us 
 their best wishes ; here and there, an anxious 
 face, bespeaking relationship with some of the 
 guides. 
 
 We left the valley at the village of les Pele- 
 rins (51), and, ascending through the pine forest 
 eastward of the glacier des Bossons (62), reached 
 successively the Chalet de la Para (the last hu- 
 man habitation), Pierre Pointue, and Pierre a, 
 I'Echelle : the latter point by noon. 
 
 The highest tree is Pinus Cembra, the Sibe- 
 rian pine, found in sheltered situations, on that 
 the north side of the mountain, more than 
 6000 feet above the sea. There were acres of 
 Rhododendron ferruginemn, the beautiful, Alp- 
 
 * I am much indebted to the proprietors of this excellent 
 hotelj Chariot and Simond, for their assiduity in providing such 
 an outfit as should ensure me as much comfort as possible in 
 the expedition ; for their attention during my subsequent stay 
 at Chamonix ; and for the promptness with which they furnished 
 information, for which I afterwards applied to them by letter.
 
 1 4 ALPINE PLANTS— PROVISIONS—CHAMOIS SEEN. 
 
 rose, just gone out of flower, and of many other 
 alpine plants, — though the season was so far 
 advanced, — zone could be observed succeeding 
 zone, in the order of then* hardihood, on the pri- 
 mitive debris of the "Moraines." Here and there 
 a prostrate trunk of pine, cast down by ava- 
 lanches, afforded us a httle wood for fuel, and 
 was collected by the guides. 
 
 At Pierre a I'Echelle we overtook some men 
 employed by the guides to carry thus far part 
 of the baggage, consisting of charcoal, extra 
 clothing, blankets, ropes twelve or fourteen 
 feet long, for the pm-pose of tying us together 
 when passing over a dangerous sm-face, a ves- 
 sel in which to boil water, besides a mountain 
 barometer, two thermometers, a telescope, and 
 what was perhaps of more importance than 
 any one thing besides, an axe to cut om* way 
 up and down the ice-masses and indurated 
 snow. These men, the bearers thus far of the 
 baggage, returned to the vaUey. 
 
 Several Chamois were seen bounding fleetly 
 over the rocks just above us. We had sur- 
 prised them in a situation from which even 
 these animals could not easily extricate them-
 
 ENTRANCE UPON THE GLACIER DES BOSSONS. 15 
 
 selves ; and two or tlu*ee minutes elapsed be- 
 fore the last of them made its escape, which it 
 effected by crossing the glacier. 
 
 At Pierre a I'Echelle we made a second 
 breakfast, and, at the foot of the Aiguille du 
 Midi (37), entered upon the ice, over which ex- 
 clusively our course now lay, in perpendicular 
 altitude, 7000 feet. Bifid iron points (they 
 should have been of steel) were screwed into 
 the soles of my shoes, to prevent slipping. A 
 boy despatched from the village of les Pele- 
 rins (51) to the Priory (48), for some spirit of 
 wine, wanted for an experiment on the summit, 
 now came breathless after us. I was greatly 
 disappointed, however, to find that it was not 
 alcohol, but nitric acid, that he had brought. 
 
 Crossing obliquely the glacier des Bossons, 
 we ascended south-west to the Mulct rocks 
 (61), on one of which we hoped to pass the 
 night. Each of the party carried a baton or 
 pole, six or seven feet long, armed at the end 
 with an iron spike.* This was to serve as a 
 support and balance to the body, when climb- 
 ing up the slippery ice, or to afford a cross- 
 
 * Better, made of steel.
 
 10 THE GLACIERS— TRANSVERSE RENTS. 
 
 ing beam to narrow crevices, into which we 
 miglit begin to fall. 
 
 The glaciers are sloping fields of ice, that oc- 
 cupy ravines in the sides of mountains ; moving 
 sloAvly and miperceptibly, but continually 
 downwards, it is said at the rate of a foot each 
 day. Where in contact with the warmer sur- 
 face of the ground on which they rest, and at 
 their sides, they thaw ; and being thus loosen- 
 ed, way is made for their descent. But here 
 and there some obstacle occurs, that holds 
 them, until then- weight overcomes and carries 
 downwards the obstruction ; or, when the lat- 
 ter does not yield, the glacier becomes trans- 
 versely rent, by which the lt)wer portion of 
 the mass is separated, and proceeds ; the fis- 
 sure widening, until filled up by the ice-debris 
 of avalanches, or the next winter's snow. The 
 obstacles consist, for the most part, of rocks, 
 projecting from the sides of the ravines. A Ut- 
 tle water from the surface of the glacier, finds 
 its way in the day-time into the crevices of 
 these rocks, and in the night irresistibly ex- 
 panding into ice, loosens them, so that they 
 must eventually yield. Glaciers thus widen
 
 GLACIERS OF BOSSONS AND TACONNAZ. 17 
 
 their ravines, by taking from their sides. 
 Hence the vast lateral accmnnlations of debris, 
 and the uprooted branchless pines. The for- 
 mer, at the sides of the Bossons glacier, are 
 called " The Moraines." The surfaces of gla- 
 ciers present, besides, great and general inequa- 
 lities, which, using a geological expression, 
 may be called slips, with vast overhanging 
 mural precipices, referrible to corresponding in- 
 equalities in the beds of their ravines. 
 
 The glaciers of Bossons and Taconnaz, rent 
 in some parts almost from side to side, are the 
 great receptacles of ice, falling from the north 
 side of the summit of Mont Blanc, with 
 which in unconnected portions they are stre^vn. 
 Enormous masses becoming lodged, half in, 
 half out of the rents, form sometimes the only 
 bridges by which the latter can be crossed. 
 Steps are heAvn Avith the axe, up one side and 
 down the other, of these blocks of ice. Some- 
 times the bridge consists of a heap of smaller 
 masses ; sometimes there is no bridge at all, 
 and you have either to pass along the margin 
 of the chasm, until a narrower part of it is 
 reached, where you may spring across (this, 
 
 B
 
 18 CROSSING THE CHASMS. 
 
 liOAvever, at the risk of not getting back, on the 
 other side, to the hne of route you were piu*- 
 suing), or, held by a rope, you descend into the 
 fissure to some shelving ridge, from which you 
 gain, and cut your way up, the precipice on the 
 other side.* 
 
 * Dr Clarke, who ascended Mont Blanc in 1825^ lias well de- 
 scribed the crossing of a fissure in the last mentioned way : 
 
 " The chasm, though wide above, was not very wide beneath. 
 The sides sloped down to a kind of serpentine chink from three 
 to four feet wide, but of unknown depth. Our guide Jnlien, a 
 thoroughly brave steady man, descended first to the end of the 
 chink, cutting holes as he descended. When at the brink it 
 was still too wide to jump across, especially as the landing 
 place on the other side was steep and slippery, Julien called 
 to us above to hand dovni our ice-poles ; accordingly, four or 
 five poles were handed down to him. These poles he placed 
 from brink to brink, so as to make a little bridge, and then, af- 
 ter cautiously trying its strength, he slowlj' and steadilj' walked 
 over to the opposite side. I must honestly confess that I did 
 not at all admire this very ingenious contrivance, and did not 
 much care to look on while Julien performed the feat. But the 
 difficulty was not then at an end, for he had afterwards to climb 
 up a high bank of snow so exceedingly steep that he could only 
 ascend by cutting alternate holes for his feet and hands with 
 the axe. This was a very singular and awkward affair ; we 
 stood watching him in breathless anxiety, expecting every mo- 
 ment that he would slip backward into the chasm. For his 
 sake and our own we were heartily glad to see Julien safelj- 
 emerge and fairly landed on the plane of snow above. He then 
 let down his rope to assist and steady us in crossing the bridge 
 of poles, and afterwards to help us in mounting the snow-bank. 
 I am rather inclined to think that this passage was the most ha- 
 zardous of the whole expedition ; nor do I know whether the
 
 DANGER FROM SETTING ICE IN MOTION. 1,9 
 
 And if, as was the case when I was there, 
 snow have lately fallen, the narrow, incipient 
 crevices become concealed, and the small open- 
 ings between the accumulated masses, — some 
 so small that not more is threatened than a 
 broken leg, others large enough, however, to 
 engorge a human body, — these are lightly filled 
 up ; and if you step on the thin crust conceal- 
 ing them, it lets you thi'ough. 
 
 Sometimes, too, a loose mass, on which for 
 a moment you have rested, slips, — and, taken 
 unawares, your other foot slips, — and, not ad- 
 justed, the baton slips, — and there is no point 
 for the hands to grasp, if, indeed, the hands 
 are not too benumbed to grasp at all. You 
 vainly strive to cling with arms and knees to 
 the moving ice ; perhaps, too, on one of those 
 uncertain bridges, — and see on both sides a 
 
 danger was greater of slipping off the tottering bridge into the 
 chasm, or of falling backwards in climbing up the frozen bank 
 of hard snow, where we had now and then to cling to the holes 
 in the ice till our fingers ached with the grasp. Yet the aid af- 
 forded by these brave mountaineers is so prompt and so efficient, 
 that the danger is by no means so great to the traveller as it 
 would seem to be. To the guides, and to the guides only, be- 
 longs the merit either of courage or of dexterity in the matter." 
 — Dr Clarke's Narrative. 
 
 13 2
 
 20 THE GUIDES ON THE GLACIER. 
 
 yawning rift, having, indeed, bright walls, but 
 — dark, tremendous depth. At such an awful 
 moment, the guide, ever watchful, turns, and 
 with the gi'eatest coolness, and strength that 
 seems Herculean, draws you up to the firmer, 
 though still, perhaps, precarious point on which 
 he is standing : and you feel that he has saved 
 you. This is not an exaggerated picture. 
 
 It is wonderful to see those Savoyards, — strong 
 in Alpine hardihood, and used from early life to 
 clamber after chamois, — springing sure-footed 
 from mass to mass, and walking on slippery 
 and narrow ridges, seeming quite regardless of 
 the gulf, into which one false step would cast 
 them. A guide immediately precedes, and 
 takes especial chai-ge of you ; and you have to 
 watch and closely follow, if you can, his every 
 step, — placing your foot only on such parts as 
 his has tried. 
 
 No sound is heard in those solitudes, save 
 the deep and hollow muniiur of an unseen tor- 
 rent, whose path lies 300 feet * and more down 
 
 * The ascertained thickness of the ice in some parts of the 
 Mer dc Glace (30), is 300 feet. It is probabh- 500 in some parts 
 of the Glacier des Bossons (62).
 
 ICY DESOLATION OF THE GLACIERS. 2 1 
 
 the clefts. It is the genial warmth of nature, 
 working in the depths of the dark ice-chambers, 
 where the last stratum of the glacier lies in 
 contact with the ground. Many such torrents 
 joining, form a river, pouring perpetually from 
 the foot of every glacier. 
 
 The ice assumes the most fantastic forms, 
 exhibiting a curious scene, days' jom-neys 
 wide, of wildness untameable and spark- 
 ling azure. The Mer de Glace (30) has been 
 said to exhibit an appearance, " as if frost had 
 suddenly bound up the waves and whirlpools 
 of a mighty torrent." The Bossons glacier (G2), 
 I would say, resembles more a city, converted 
 into ice, — then shaken into ruins ; and taking a 
 Dutch city, the chasms are represented by ca- 
 nals. But the surface of the Mer de Glace, 
 even as high up as the Jardin, presents no ice 
 masses, and no chasms, to be compared in mag- 
 nitude with those occurring on the upper part 
 of the Glacier des Bossons, which we crossed 
 the first day ; and yet there awaited me higher 
 up the mountain, icy scenes of still more daz- 
 zling splendour, and on a mightier scale. 
 
 The guides had said, that from the lateness
 
 22 ZIGZAG COURSE, AND STEPS RETRACED. 
 
 of the season, the fissures would be found 
 much widened ; and so it proved. To this an 
 unusually hot summer also, had doubtless tend- 
 ed. These fissures gave a most zigzag direc- 
 tion to our course, compelled us to retrace pain- 
 fully-taken steps, and sometimes to reascend 
 walls, where ropes as well as hands and knees 
 had been employed to enable us to scramble 
 down. 
 
 It was the lower and larger of the mulet 
 rocks, the Grand Mulet (61), that we were to 
 try to gain, as om* quarters for the night. But 
 the most eligible point from which to cUmb up 
 the rock, was absolutely unattainable ; a great 
 fissure, and a mm'al precipice beyond it, inter- 
 vening. We therefore retraced om' steps down 
 towards the base of the rock. But here, too, 
 a wall of solid ice was interposed. 
 
 The guides thi'ew down then* provision-bags, 
 and set earnestly to work. I took, as well as 
 bemmibed hands permitted, a sketch or two 
 the while, from which the two small plates 
 are taken.* The leading guide, secured with 
 
 * The plates present but a small portion of the rock iiear its 
 base.
 
 DANGER IN ATTAINING THE GRAND MULET. 23 
 
 a rope, was lowered dowii to a projecting point, 
 on which there was a footing for his toes. He 
 then clambered up from point to point, also cut- 
 ting steps, until at last, with labour exceeded 
 only by the peril of his situation, he attained 
 the rock ; other guides continuing all the while 
 their hold of the rope with which he had been 
 tied, as a false step would otherwise have cast 
 him down into a chasm, the depth of Avhich 
 we could not ascertain. Another guide was 
 now secured, and the rope tlii'own up to him 
 already on the rock ; so that the former also 
 gained it. These tAvo then drew up the others 
 of the party, as well as the provision-bags, by 
 means of ropes. 
 
 The first guide who reached the rock, was 
 our captain, Joseph Marie Couttet ; the second, 
 Michal Balmat. Of these intrepid men I can- 
 not say enough, to do justice either to them or 
 to my own feelings. Without them, the under- 
 taking must have failed, at the base of that 
 rock, or elsewhere. The well-known Couttet 
 had reached the summit of Mont Blanc eight 
 times before. On one occasion, both his legs 
 Avere fractured by falling rocks. On another.
 
 24 THE GUIDES, COUTTET AND BALMAT. 
 
 one of his hands was greatly injured. In the 
 attempt of Dr Hamel, an avalanche swept him 
 away, and hm-led him down a chasm with four 
 other guides, three of whom perished. No one 
 should attempt to ascend Mont Blanc without 
 him. His intelligence is extraordinary.* The 
 comprehensive view taken by him and Balmat, 
 in planning, on the height of some ice-tower, 
 a winding route across the glacier, is wonder- 
 ful. When these two guides were not obliged 
 to take the lead, I was glad to have them near 
 me ; but on all occasions requiring much cool- 
 ness, intrepidity, experience, and judgment, 
 they were the leaders of the party. Couttet 
 and Balmat are particularly mentioned, not for 
 their own sakes merely, but because I may 
 thus serve some future traveller. The other 
 fom* were Pierre Tairraz, already three times 
 up the mountain ; Frangois Despland, and Si- 
 mon Tournier, each up once before ; and Jean 
 Tairraz, going up for the first time. I can re- 
 commend them all : each in his turn assisted 
 me in difficult and dangerous places, and per- 
 
 * Couttet has a good collection of crystals and mountain 
 rocks for sale^ at the Priory of Chamonix.
 
 ,;iW.^Vl.iCiv 
 
 SCALING 200 FEET OF THE ROCK. 25 
 
 formed his part in a faitliful manner. The one 
 last named, Jean Tairraz, is a young and very 
 enterprising- guide. His attentions added not a 
 little to my comfort, during our stay upon the 
 rock. 
 
 Never had Couttet found it so difficult to at- 
 tain the Grand Mulct rock. He afterwards 
 handed me a memorandum, from Avhich the 
 following is taken. " Je soussigne et certifie 
 avoir ete 9 fois au sommet du Mont Blanc. 
 Jen'ai jamais rencontrd autant dedifficultes que 
 cette fois-ci (avce le Docteur Barry, que j'ai 
 accompagne jusqu' au sommet du Mont Blanc) 
 pour arriver au Grand Mulet (61) : et la neige 
 nouvelle nous a beaucoup fatigue. Malgre 
 toutes les difficultes, notre voyage a et^ heu- 
 reux. — Chamonix, le 20 SeiMmhre 1834. 
 
 (Signed) Couttet Joseph, Guide." 
 
 The part of the rock first gained, was at no 
 great height above its base. Hence we had to 
 scramble up two hundred feet of the nearly 
 vertical micaceous strata of this aiguille ; por- 
 tions of which, disjointed, now and then slip- 
 ped, threatening destruction, not more to him
 
 26 OPEN SHELF OF ROCK-SUNSET. 
 
 standing on, or clinging- to them, than to those 
 beloAV, upon whose heads they narrowly escaped 
 falling. Well do I remember the vigilance and 
 prodigious strength of Despland, the faithful 
 fellow who had me then in charge ; which, in- 
 deed, I thought it worth w^hile to notice in the 
 certificate afterwards given to him. 
 
 There is a ledge of a few square feet, a sort 
 of open shelf, on the south-west side, and se- 
 veral yards below the top, of the rock; the 
 margin, a precipice of seventy or eighty feet. 
 Upon this shelf, as a spot not reached by ava- 
 lanches, we were to pass the night. 
 
 It was half-past six o'clock. I have spoken 
 of a sunset from the Faidhorn : now higher by 
 two thousand feet, — ^myself a point upon the 
 glacier- Avail of rosy light, — I drank the radiance 
 of another ; witnessed the parting tribute of 
 the sun to lake Leman, — which, though distant 
 about fifty miles, shared it with me ; saw him 
 go cloudless doAvn behind the Jiu-a, — leaving us 
 to enjoy upon our rock, in the purple of the 
 evening, the serene assurance of his bright 
 return. 
 
 The height of the Barometer was = Eng.
 
 BAROM.— CABIN— NIGHT—AVALANCHES. 27 
 
 inches 21.235 ; the attached Themiometer =: 
 45° 50 F. 
 
 Our batons, inclmed against the rock, served 
 as the rafters of a little cabin : over these two 
 sheets were thi'own, as roof and walls ; blankets 
 being spread upon the floor of rock. A fire was 
 kindled near the tent, and, mth good appe- 
 tites, we supped around it. Thirst had be- 
 come very great. 
 
 At nine o'clock, adding three-fold to our 
 clothing, and TVTapping up especially the feet, 
 we crawled into oui* cabin, and stowed our- 
 selves transversely on the ledge, in a half-sit- 
 ting posture, with our feet turned towards the 
 precipice ; a provision-bag serving as my pillow. 
 The guides lay very close beside me, and thus 
 the night was not fomid cold. 
 
 The guides soon slept soundly ; but excite- 
 ment kept me wide awake, and I lay listening 
 to the long-reverberated sound of avalanches. 
 That was a season truly for reflection. Some of 
 that falling ice covered, perhaps, the track that 
 we had made to-day ; how possible that other 
 masses might meet us in our path to-morrow. 
 What should I do, if any of my poor guides
 
 28 REFLECTIONS— NO FATIGUE. 
 
 were swept beyond recovery into a chasm, or 
 suddenly to disappear, sinking into hollows, 
 through thin crusts of snow ? Their families 
 in the vale, — ^what were then their feelings ; 
 and what those of one, — the best of brothers, — 
 whom I had left there ; whose parting look had 
 vividly remained before me all the day. 
 
 I cannot say that I felt at that time the least 
 fatigue ; an exemption attributable to the mag- 
 nitude of the undertaking, and to its being, as 
 it were, only begun. At length, however, I too 
 slept, but not soundly, and I lay wide awake 
 again at twelve. I got up, and found to my 
 sorrow, that Couttet and the younger Tairraz 
 were lying in the open air, the cabin being too 
 small to hold more than five. But the cold 
 was not severe, for a thermometer at nine 
 o'clock, indicating 39" F., had risen to 42', a 
 smart breeze from the south-west having sub- 
 sided. At half-past one, the thermometer had 
 again fallen to 41°. 
 
 It Avas a brilliant night. Beneath a dark 
 and cloudless vault, the snowy mantle of the 
 mountain shone resplendent with the beams of 
 a full, Italian moon. The guides lay buried in
 
 MOONLIGHT SCENE AT THE GRAND MULET ROCK. 29 
 
 the deepest sleep. Thus, in the midnight hour, 
 at the height of ten thousand feet, I stood — 
 alone: my resting-place a pinnacle of rock, 
 that towered darkly above the frozen wilder- 
 ness, from which it, isolated, rose. Below me, 
 the yawning rifts and uproarious desolation of 
 the glacier, presented an appalling picture of 
 dangers, scarcely gone by ; around and above, 
 was a sea of fan* but treacherous snow, whose 
 hidden perils yet lay before us. I saw the 
 chain of Jura, and the distant top of many an 
 unknown alp, — an earnest of the prospect from 
 still more lofty regions ; yet among them, Mont 
 Buet's white dome, — a warning monument of 
 Eschen's fate, — forbade the attempt to go up 
 higher. The vale of Chamonix slept at the 
 mountain's foot ; and, now and then broken 
 by the deep thunder of an avalanche, the pro- 
 foundest silence reigned. It seemed the vast- 
 est, wildest, sternest of Nature's prodigies re- 
 posing; — now starting, as in a fitful dream, 
 — then sinking again into the stillest calm. 
 Tlie influence upon my mind of that poetic 
 " vision of the night," I must despair of ever 
 being able to communicate to others ; and yet
 
 30 MORNING OF THE SECOND DAY. 
 
 the scene itself lives, " a picture in my me- 
 mory," standing alone, — unalterable by time. 
 It held me, until an hour and half had passed 
 away; when, a recollection of the coming day's 
 fatigues, rendered it proper, again to try, at 
 least, to take repose. 
 
 In three hours, the guides roused me : of 
 course then, from my vigils, little disposed to 
 rise. It was past four o'clock. Orion shone 
 where the full, and now setting, moon had 
 beamed three hours before. Soon the moun- 
 tain-top became a pyramid of gold ; delightful 
 token that the rising sun, — between which 
 and us, the mountain intei'vened, — had re- 
 deemed the pledge given by his departing rays. 
 
 First, lightly breakfasting, we left the rock 
 at five. Proceeding then across an ice-valley, 
 we approached the base of the Dome du Goute 
 (57) ; then ascended zig-zag towards the Pla- 
 teaus. 
 
 The recent snow, nearly knee-deep, made 
 the way laborious ; the safety of each step was 
 tried before taken, by our leader, with the ba- 
 ton ; we proceeded in a line, — held, in twos and 
 threes, with ropes, — and following carefully and
 
 SPLENDID ICY SCENERY. 31 
 
 very exactly the same footsteps, as less weari- 
 some than new plunges in the snow, and for 
 the more important reason, that they Avere the 
 only tried portions of the faithless sm'face. 
 
 Our course lay, for the most part, over vast 
 fields of snow ; but the early portion of it pre- 
 sented scenery of sm*passing beauty, far more 
 magnificent and dazzling than that of the day 
 before. There were broad andbridgeless chasms, 
 whose depths the eye, from their dizzy edges, 
 vainly sought to ascertain ; — towering masses, 
 in forms that, from their strangeness, seemed 
 unreal ; — spires of brightness, grottos and pala- 
 ces of frost, — here recent, soft, of snowy white- 
 ness, — there older, hardened, passing into crys- 
 tal azure, — sprinkled with frozen dew, festooned 
 with silver fringe ; their inmost caverns dark, 
 — vast stalactites of ice, in line, guarding the 
 portals. " These fairy structm-es," as said by 
 Clissold,* "successively dissolving in the 
 warmer atmosphere of the afternoon, and be- 
 ing hardened again by the nightly frosts, are 
 perpetually starting into new objects of won- 
 
 * Narrative of an Ascent to the Summit of Mont Blanc, Au- 
 "•ust 18; 1822.
 
 .32 GREAT DIFFICULTIES MET WITH. 
 
 der." Such scenes are in recollection vivid, — 
 I see them now, — ^but words are wanting, to 
 impart them to another. No wonder if I often 
 turned, and turned again, not knowing how to 
 leave them (I).* 
 
 Feelings, however, very different, soon suc- 
 ceeded. All the experience and intrepidity of 
 Couttet and of Balmat were called forth, to con- 
 tend with difficulties that occurred on every 
 hand. We reached, indeed, one point, where it 
 was found impossible to advance fiu*ther in the 
 same course ; and from a tower of ice, obsta- 
 cles were discovered, requiring a wide change 
 of route. The two exploring guides went a 
 long distance tow^ards the Dome du Goute (57), 
 in search of a new passage ; the others and 
 myself, knee-deep in snow, anxiously awaiting 
 a signal to follow, or then* return : but they 
 were foiled. Another, and yet another course 
 was sought, in vain. 
 
 Four years had elapsed since Mont Blanc 
 was last ascended ; hence we knew^ not but 
 that, from the shifting nature of the snow- 
 masses, changes had occurred, that might en- 
 
 * See the notes appended.
 
 SUCCESS ALMOST DESPAIRED OF. 33 
 
 tirely cut off om- further progress. Auldjo* 
 had said mdeed, from alterations which he 
 thought he saw taking place in the glacier 
 in 1827, that probably the summit would soon 
 become inaccessible. The half French, half 
 Italian^a^ozs of the guides, — scarcely understood 
 by me, when, under ordinary circumstances, 
 they conversed among themselves, — was now 
 sufficiently inteUigible, from vehement outcries 
 of disappointment. Then- faces too, convinced 
 me that success was not far from being despair- 
 ed of 
 
 Yet another course was tried ; a long, steep, 
 and most round-about ascent, affording the 
 last forlorn hope. The day before, I had ascend- 
 ed to nearly twice the height of the highest of 
 the Scottish Grampians, with less than half the 
 fatigue that it had, on two occasions, cost me, 
 to reach the top of Ben MacDhui; — and why? 
 because the magnitude of the undertaking lent 
 me energy and strength, — and so long as obsta- 
 cles could, by any means, be overcome, toil 
 was unknown. But now, dispirited, bow great 
 
 " " Narrative of an Ascent to the Summit of Mont Blanc, 8th 
 and 9th August 1827." 
 
 U
 
 34 BRIDGE OF ICE— TREACHEROUS SNOW. 
 
 was found the labour of the way ; how painful 
 and how slow our zig-gag course. 
 
 This long and weaiy ascent being at length 
 accomplished, — could we proceed ? No ! — an 
 enormous fissure now presented, to cross which 
 was impossible : and here we must have turn- 
 ed, but for a bridge of ice, discovered at a dis- 
 tance. We made for that bridge, — it bore us 
 over. 
 
 Now, there were seen no chasms nor ice- 
 masses, to obstruct our progress, and my hopes 
 brightened, the prospect seeming fair. The 
 most experienced guides perhaps thought other- 
 wise, and truly otherwise it proved. We walk- 
 ed upon a surface made resplendent by the 
 moon the night before ; but not less treacher- 
 ous than fair. Om* leader paused, and warned 
 us of a hole, covered with recent snow, into 
 which his staff had sunk. Again he stopped, 
 meeting with another, — and another. This oc- 
 curred so often, that openings must have sur- 
 rounded us on every hand. Thus we were walk- 
 ing on the ice-rafters of unseen cavities. Low- 
 er down, upon the glacier, we saw dangers, and 
 could sometimes avoid them ; now, they were
 
 ICE-RAFTERS OF UNSEEN CAVITIES. 35 
 
 hidden, with an aAvful certainty of then* exist- 
 ence ; and in a moment, the precarious crust 
 on which we Imew om*selves to stand, might, to 
 a large extent, have given way. 
 
 How cheering, at that time, the announce- 
 ment by a guide, " On nous regarde.''' He 
 knew that we had just then reached a point, 
 from which observers in the valley could, with 
 the telescope, discern us in our snowy track ; 
 and I well knew that among those observers, 
 there was one, spoken of before, whose anxiety, 
 left as he was, in ignorance of my fate, had 
 marred with me the pleasures of the enterprise. 
 It was a som'ce of great joy to feel assm-edthat, 
 by that time, his mind had been relieved ; and 
 the unseen cavities below me were forgotten. 
 
 We soon afterwards aiTived upon the Grand 
 Plateau (60), another gi-eat stage of the ascent 
 being thus accomplished. Now, the prospect 
 being really fair, we felt more confidence, and 
 sat down upon the snow, in good cheer, to break- 
 fast ; though there was felt, even at that height, 
 incipient loss of appetite.* 
 
 ■•■■ '■' Dr Clarke and Capt. Shcrwill, with their guides, felt much 
 more^ this want of appetite upon the Grand Plateau. Dr Clarke 
 says, ' It was laughable enoug'h to see the same men who, a 
 
 c2
 
 30 DARK COLOUR OF THE SKY IN PART SUBJECTIVE. 
 
 Besides the Grand Plateau (GO), two other 
 plains of snow, crossed lower doA\^i the moun- 
 tain, have been called " plateaux." It was on 
 the middle one that Saussure, with eighteen 
 guides, passed the second night in his ascent in 
 1787. Speaking of it, he says, " It is 09 toises 
 (= 575 English feet) higher than the Peak of 
 Teneriffe. 
 
 While resting here, the blackish-blue, or ra- 
 ther purple-black, colour of the sky arrested 
 my attention. The colour of the sky, from un- 
 derstood causes, is known to varA^ with the 
 observer's elevation, with latitude, the sun's 
 height, the season of the 3^ear, &c., it is paler 
 above the ocean than over land ; and, of course, 
 is deepest in the zenith. But above the snow- 
 line, the eye contemporaneously receives white 
 rays from vast walls of snow ; and thus, by con- 
 trast, the sky seems darker than it really is. 
 Convinced that such must be the case, I lay 
 do^Ti upon my back, and shut out the snowfi-om 
 view, by a cylinder formed with both hands, 
 — closed my eyes for some moments, then 
 
 few hours before^ would have eaten a fraction of a roasted buf- 
 falo, now hanging their heads iu silence, and fastidiously pick- 
 ing a pullet's wing."
 
 ROCHERS ROUGES— FATAL AVALANCHE IN 1820' ')7 
 
 Opened them upon the zenith, — and found the 
 tinge of black more or less completely gone. 
 Thus, viewed without and with the cylinder, a 
 tint rather less red, and blacker, than Wer- 
 ner's " Panzy pm-ple," was made to alternate 
 with a dark " China blue." (II.) 
 
 By 10 o'clock, we had left the Grand Pla- 
 teau (00). Above the latter are the Rochers 
 rouges (59), where the fatal avalanche occurred 
 in the attempt of Dr Hamel. The following nar- 
 rative of that melancholy scene is given by Dr 
 Clarke. 
 
 " We had now not quite a mile to proceed, 
 before arriving at the spot where the sad ca- 
 tastrophe occmTed in 1820. This cu'cmnstance 
 threw an air of seriousness into all faces. Our 
 captain, Couttet, and brave Julien, had both 
 most narrowly escaped death ; nor could they 
 approach the grave of their unhappy comrades 
 without emotion. Julien gave a very clear and 
 minute account of this disaster, which I wrote 
 down immediately from his lips. The party 
 had breakfasted on the Grand Plateau, near 
 the spot at which we halted. They then tra- 
 versed the plain, and began to ascend tlic liighest
 
 38 FATAL AVALANCHE IN 1820. 
 
 steeps of the mountain, called among the guides 
 La Calotte de Mont Blanc* In proceeding ob- 
 liquely upward, they approached a dark rock, 
 which we saw above us deeply imbedded in the 
 snow(59). 'Theorderof march,' said Julien, 'was 
 this : — at the moment of the disaster, the lead- 
 ing guide was Pierre Cau-riez ; 2d, Pierre Bal- 
 mat; 3d, Auguste TauTaz : (these three perish- 
 ed); then, 4th, moi (Julien Devouassou) ; then, 
 next to me, Marie Couttet (our captain) ; then, 
 behind, were five other guides, with Dr Hamel 
 (a Russian physician), and two English gentle- 
 men. Suddenly, said he, I heard a sort of rush- 
 ing sound, not very loud ; but I had no time to 
 think about it ; for, as I heard the sound, at the 
 same instant the avalanche was upon us. I 
 felt my feet shde from beneath me, and saw 
 the three first men fallen upon the snow with 
 their feet foremost. In falling, I cried out 
 loudly, ' Nous sommes tons perdus !' I tried 
 to support myself by planting the ice-pole below 
 me, but in vain. The weight of snow forced me 
 
 * " The close black silk-cap^ worn on the crown of the head 
 by the priests, is called the Calotte. Whenever the original 
 French is given, it is exactly as spoken by the guides, without 
 any emendation."
 
 FATAL AVALANCHE IN 1820. 30 
 
 over the baton, and it slipped out of my hand. 
 I rolled down lil^e a ball, in the mass of loose 
 snow. At the foot of the slope was a yawning 
 chasm, to the edge of which I was rapidly des- 
 cending. Three times I saw the light, as I was 
 rolling down the slope ; and, when we were all 
 on the very edge of the chasm, I saw the leg of 
 one of my comrades, just as he pitched dovni 
 into the crevice. I think it must have been 
 poor Auguste, for it looked black, and I remem- 
 ber that Auguste had on black gaiters. This 
 was the last I saw of my three companions, 
 who fell headlong into the gulf, and were never 
 seen or heard again. 
 
 " At this moment I was just falling into the 
 same crevice, and can but confusedly under- 
 stand why I did not : but I think I owe my life 
 to a very singular circmnstance. Dr Hamel 
 had given me a barometer to cany ; this was 
 fastened round my waist by a strong girdle. I 
 fancy that at the moment this long barometer 
 got beneath and across me ; for the girdle sud- 
 denly broke, and I made a sort of bound as I 
 fell ; and so, instead of following my poor com- 
 rades, I was pushed over into another crevice,
 
 40 FATAL avalanchp: in 1820. 
 
 close to that in which they were killed. This 
 chasm was already partly filled with snow : I 
 do not think I fell more than fifty feet down, 
 aUghting on a soft cushion of snow, and a good 
 deal covered with it above. I suppose before 
 tumbling into the chasm, we slid down from 
 one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet ; but 
 I cannot tell, for it seemed to me not more than 
 a minute from the time I heard the noise of the 
 avalanche above me, till I found myself lying 
 deep down in a narrow crack.' All estimate of 
 distances in such circumstances must, of course, 
 be rude guesses. Couttet's reply to the same 
 question was this : ' I should fancy I slid down 
 near foiu* hundred feet, and tumbled headlong 
 about sixty feet.' I asked Julien what his 
 thoughts were during this awkAvard tumble. 
 His reply was in these words : ' Pendant que 
 j'ai roule j'ai dit a moi-meme, 'Je suis perdu, 
 adieu ma femme, et mes enfans !' et j'ai de- 
 mande pardon a Dieu. Je n'ai rien pense ab- 
 solument des autres. 
 
 ' " ' On coming to myself,' continued honest 
 Julien, ' I was better off than I had expected. 
 
 I was lying on my back, heels upwards, with
 
 FATAL AVALANCHE IN 1820. 41 
 
 my head resting against the icy walls of the 
 crack, and I could see some light and a little of 
 the blue sky through two openings over my 
 head. I was greatly afraid that some of my 
 lunbs had been broken, but I had sunk into the 
 mass of soft snow, and though bruised by fall- 
 ing against the sides of the ice, yet nothing was 
 broken, and in a few moments I contrived to 
 get up on my feet. On looking up, I saw a 
 little above me a man's head jDrojecting from 
 the snow. It was Marie Couttet (our caj^tain) : 
 he was quite covered with snow up to the neck, 
 his arms pinioned down, and his face quite 
 blue, as if he was nearly suffocated. He called 
 to me in a low voice to come and help him. I 
 found a pole in the crevice (I think not one 
 that had belonged to the three who perished, 
 but another) : I went to Couttet, dug round 
 him with the baton, and in a few minutes I got 
 Couttet clear of the snow, and we sat down to- 
 gether. We remained in silence, looking at 
 each other for a minute or two, thinking that 
 all the rest were killed. Then I began to crawl 
 i\]) on the snow that partly tilled the crack ;
 
 42 FATAL AVALANCHE IN 1820. 
 
 and, in climbing up, I saw above me David 
 Qouttet, who was crying, and saying, ' Mon 
 pauvre frere est perdu !' I said, * Non ! II est 
 ici en bas.' (Couttet was climbing behind Ju- 
 lien, and so not seen at first). Et moi j'ai dit, 
 ' Les autres sont ils tons la en haut V lis ont 
 dit qu'il manquoit encore trois. Et j'ai de- 
 mande, ' Qui sont ils qui manquent V lis ont 
 dit, ' Pierre Cairriez ; Pierre Balmat ; et Augusta 
 Tairraz.' Nous avons demande si les messieurs 
 avoient du mal. lis ont dit que non. Then 
 the guides helped us to get up about fourteen 
 feet on the solid ice. They threw us down a 
 little axe to cut steps, and put down the end 
 of theu' poles, and we got out. 
 
 " * We all went to search for the three 
 others : we sounded with our poles, we cried 
 aloud, we called them by their names, put 
 down a long pole into the snow and listened ; 
 but all was in vain, we heard not the slight- 
 est sound. We spent two hours in this melan- 
 choly search, and by this time were well nigh 
 frozen, for the wind was bitterly cold, our poles 
 covered with ice, our shoes frozen as hard as
 
 FATAL AVALANCHE IN 1 820. 43 
 
 horn. We were compelled to descend ; we 
 hurried doAvn in perfect silence, and returned 
 to the inn late at night. 
 
 " The three poor men were all unmarried. 
 Pierre Cau-riez was a blacksmith, and his fa- 
 mily depended on him for then* main support. 
 Julien drew a very simple but touching picture 
 of the scene of sorrow presented when the fatal 
 news became known to the surviving friends. 
 These rugged brave mountaineers would face 
 death themselves unmoved, but it was with a 
 low voice and a glistening eye that allusion was 
 made to the fate of theu* comrades, and the 
 grief it had occasioned. The two English gen- 
 tlemen contributed very generously to the re- 
 lief of the distressed families. 
 
 " Worthy Simeon coniirmed his brother's 
 narrative, and gave me all the particulars that 
 fell under his own eye. He described most af- 
 fectionately the despair of the bereaved friends. 
 He tried to look perfectly unmoved, and seemed 
 ashamed of his emotion. Yet this fine brave 
 fellow could hardly keep from tears as he said, 
 ' La mere de Pierre Balmat se desoloit. Ti'ois 
 mois apres elle est morte.'
 
 44 SAUSSURE'S ROUTE— NEW ROUTE. 
 
 " Such is the abstract of the story. I have be- 
 fore me a simple but very intelligible sketch 
 of the relative positions, which Julien made for 
 me with his o^vn hand, but it would be unsuit- 
 able to the present occasion, and we have al- 
 ready to apologize for so long a digression. 
 This unhappy accident seems not to have been 
 altogether what is commonly called an ava- 
 lanche, but simply a part of the stratum of new 
 snow^ which slipped upon the old, and swept 
 all before it in its descent. The extent of snow 
 put in motion Avas estimated at about 200 feet 
 in height, 150 in breadth, and rather more than 
 a foot in depth." 
 
 I now return to my own narrative. Saus- 
 sure's course (80) lay to the west of the Ro- 
 chers rouges (59) ; we went eastward of them, 
 by the new route (79) discovered in 1827, when 
 myfellow-countr3rnienC. Fellows and W. Hawes 
 ascended, and by which a very dangerous part 
 is avoided. 
 
 Great dryness, in some parts a livid colom*, 
 and constriction of the skin, now iDcgan to l^e 
 observed ; thirst became intense, and could 
 scarcely be alleviated, though we continually
 
 SENSATIONS— HEAT OPPRESSIVE— INSECTS. 45 
 
 ate sugar, French plums, and snoAv. We were 
 in a naiTow valley, sheltered from the wind, 
 and exposed to the sun's du-ect rays : the com- 
 mon focus, too, of rays reflected from vast sur- 
 rounding walls of snow. The heat was there- 
 fore now oppressive, and the face scorched. A 
 veil had been provided, but as it would have 
 taken from the splendour of the icy scenery 
 around, I preferred not using it, though de- 
 squamation of the epidermis of the face was al- 
 most sure to follow the omission. Green spec- 
 tacles were used, and are indispensable, to ob- 
 viate the glare from the snow. 
 
 An insect of the order Diptera ^sas found 
 dead upon the snow, about 1500 feet below the 
 summit, and one of the Hymenoptera, alive, 
 300 feet higher ; both having probably been 
 can*ied up by the wind. Professor Bronn of 
 Heidelberg, was so obliging as to examine these 
 for me, and found the first to correspond most 
 nearly with the description of Syrphus arcua- 
 tus of Fallen and Meigen. If it be reall}^ this, 
 the vicinity of Mont Blanc is a new station for 
 it, as, according to Meigen' s monograj)!!, it
 
 46 ALPINE CROWS— EPAULE DROITE. 
 
 had previously been found in Sweden only. 
 On the day after my return from the mountain, 
 I saw two or three of what appeared to be the 
 same insects alive, near the " Jardin," about 
 9000 feet above the sea. They were extremely 
 vigilant, and rapid on the wing : I could not 
 catch one. The other insect has not been de- 
 termined. 
 
 Two large birds were seen at a distance, 
 passing over the shoulder of the mountain, from 
 Piedmont to Savoy, at a height of nearly 15,000 
 feet. The guides called them " Corneilles." 
 They were probably " Alpine crows" — " Pyr- 
 rliocorax Pyrrhocoraoc,'' Cuv.* 
 
 Our progress, after leaving the Grand Pla- 
 teau (60), at fii-st obstiiicted by the passage of 
 some very formidable cliffs of ice, was hinder- 
 ed chiefly by the depth of the soft snow, until 
 we reached the foot of an acclivity of nearly 
 45^ and many hundred feet in height. It was 
 the " epaule droite" (or right shoulder) of the 
 
 • " Corvus Pyrrhocorax," Gmel. — " Choquard or Choucasdes 
 Alpes," Buff. Rarely leaving in summer the highest elevations of 
 the Alps ; always living in the neighbourhood of perpetual 
 snows. Temminck.
 
 FEET NEARLY FROZEN— GIDDINESS. 47 
 
 " Calotte," or summit of the mountain. The 
 surface here was so much indurated, as to j^re- 
 vent our advancing one step, without holes 
 being first cut with the axe ; yet it had not be- 
 come so hard as to render firm the footing thus 
 obtained. It was in the state compared by 
 Auldjo to a " conglomerate of hailstones ;" 
 which, frequently and suddenly slipping back, 
 precipitation would have been almost inevitable, 
 but for the ropes holding us together. In no 
 part of the ascent were the latter felt to be 
 more indispensable than there. Our progress 
 was extremely slow, so that I suffered not a 
 little from the cold, — a keen breeze prevailing at 
 the time ; and as my feet seemed all but frozen, 
 the footing became doubly insecure. There 
 was a splendid prospect, had I dared to look 
 below me ; and once or twice a glimpse of it 
 was obtained, — ^but attended with some giddi- 
 ness, which made me glad to turn from it : and 
 so near was the foot of the declivity to the 
 margin of the steep glacier de la Brenva, that 
 it seemed as if the momentum that would be 
 acquired by a fall, would have been sufficient
 
 48 THE HEIGHT OF 14,700 FEE'l' ATTAINED. 
 
 to cast US down an unknown depth, on the Ita- 
 lian side. 
 
 Having at length scaled the " epaule droite," 
 we had reached the height of 14,700 feet above 
 the level of the sea.
 
 SECOND LECTURE. 
 
 D
 
 Sensations — Dryness of tlie skin — thirst — want of appetite — 
 Breathing not affected, a thousand feet below the apex — 
 Sudden exhaustion^ and embarrassed respiration after a 
 fewsteps — Exhaustion extreme — indifference — sinking up- 
 on the snow — The apex reached — uneasy sensations gone 
 — Respiration not affected while at rest — Barometer — 
 Thermometer — Evaporation a source of cold — Beverage — 
 Thirst unquenchable — no appetite — A pistol fired — feeble 
 report — Sound conducted by the ice — Height of the moun- 
 tain — Apex how formed — Boiling point of water — Com- 
 bustion of wood and charcoal — " Roclicrs Me'ridionales" 
 " Derniers Rochers" — Specimens now in the Museum at 
 Edinburgh — Snow does not deepen on the summit of 
 Mont Blanc — Prospect from the summit — Thrill of exulta- 
 tion — Actual range of sight — Mountains — Plains and Val- 
 leys — Waters — View too vast for the human eye — The 
 dark " aiguilles" in seas of snow — Tell — Columbus— Han- 
 nibal — Csesar^Voltaire — Rousseau— Gibbon — Saussure — 
 Beccaria — Couttet's sketch — Descent rapid — Danger of 
 setting snow in motion — Respiration not disturbed in the 
 descent — Lassitude — Mont Buet; death ofEschen there — 
 Narrow escape on a thin crust of snow — Organ of hearing 
 — Return to the Grand Mulct Rock— Barometer— Appetite 
 returned — Another night upon the rock — Proposed cavity 
 — Plants — jNIica slate and gneiss — Final departure from 
 the Grand Mulct Rock — The glacier recrossed — Danger 
 from avalanches at the Aiguille du Midi — Anxiety of a 
 brother — Our track followed from the Bre'ven — Jacques 
 Balmat — Return in safety to the Priory — Three days 
 without a cloud — Barometer — Supjier with the guides 
 and Jacques Balmat — Death of Jacques Balmat — Mine the 
 sixteenth ascent — Certificate — Twenty persons — Count de 
 Tilly — List of ascents — A state of collapse not perceived 
 to follow — Do I recommend the ascent to others? — A 
 mine of recollections.
 
 SECOND LECTURE. 
 
 No sensations had been hitherto experienced, 
 differing in hind, from those which had occur- 
 red to me in the ascent of less lofty mountains. 
 Dryness of the skin and thirst, already men- 
 tioned, were to be expected, as the immediate 
 consequences of increased evaporation from the 
 sm-face of the body, and, in part, of dryness of 
 the fauces (III). There was, hoAvever, want of ap- 
 petite, — first perceived upon the Grand Plateau, 
 two thousand feet lower down (IV). Breath- 
 ing not at all disturbed. 
 
 We now stood above the " Rochers Rouges," 
 on a small platform of snow, at the foot of the 
 last slope. I suffered at this time only from 
 thirst, and from the effect of warmth returning 
 into my half-frozen feet. The condition of the 
 
 d2
 
 52 SUDDEN EXHAUSTION AND DYSPN(EA. 
 
 guides was not observed to differ from my own. 
 There now remained less than a thousand feet, 
 up what appeared an easy slope, (a plane 
 of about 30°) to take us to the apex of the 
 mountain. My enthusiasm was perhaps scarce- 
 ly equal to what it had been three hours before. 
 
 Such were the circumstances under which 
 we addressed om'selves to the last acclivity, — 
 such our sensations ; — and I was ready to be- 
 lieve, that I should experience no others. 
 
 Suddenly, however, as we approached the 
 " Derniers Rochers," that project through the 
 snow, near the middle of this the last slope, 
 there occurred to me considerable exhaustion, 
 — accompanied, but scarcely preceded, by dys- 
 pnoea (difficult breathing) ; both of which sensa- 
 tions, standing still for a few moments, and tak- 
 ing two or three deep inspirations, sufficed en- 
 tirely to remove ; but which, on my again set- 
 ting forward, returned as before (V). At fii'st 
 this happened after perhaps every twenty, or 
 five-and-twenty paces ; but this number became 
 less and less, until it did not amount to ten. 
 Never have I found the flexors of the thigh, 
 and extensors of the leg, so inadequate to the
 
 INDIFFERENCE— THE APEX REACHED. 53 
 
 performance of theii* office, as on that occa- 
 sion ; and yet I cannot say that seven hundred 
 feet lower doT\Ti («. e. at the foot of this slope), 
 I had been conscious of the least fatigue. My 
 steps were now extremely short and sIoav ; yet 
 rest for a few moments, standing, continued 
 to relieve me. 
 
 At leng-th, exhaustion became extreme, — the 
 magnitude of the undertaking ceased to be a 
 stimulus, — and a degree of indifference came on, 
 that deprived the highest point in Europe, 
 though just within reach, of all its interest, and 
 made me ready to ask myself, "cui bono?" 
 Thus, almost fainting, I sank upon the snow. 
 Yet, even now, rest for a few minutes, and a lit- 
 tle wine, restored me, and one more effort be- 
 ing made, I stood upon the apex of the moun- 
 tain (56). It was a quarter past two o'clock. 
 
 Again repose was taken : then — finding 
 that there really was no higher point, — that 
 the mountain-top was actually gained, — every 
 uneasy sensation ceased ; and during an hour 
 and quarter, that I spent there in a state of 
 comparative repose, — i. e. engaged only in mak- 
 ing such observations as the few instruments
 
 54 BAROM ETER— TH ERMOMETER. 
 
 I happened to have with me, admitted of, — in 
 endeavouring to ascertain the boiling-point of 
 water, — and in contemplating the stupendous 
 scene beneath, — ^my respiration was not at all 
 affected, and I was inconvenienced only by the 
 wind on that unsheltered icy ridge. Time ap- 
 peared to pass, however, with amazing rapidi- 
 ty; which I attribute, partly to a degree of lan- 
 guor, rather inferred than felt, that made me 
 longer than I was aware of in performing my 
 experiments, — partly to the overpowering vast- 
 ness of the prospect, in which I was, as it were, 
 lost. 
 
 I found the height of the barometer ir 17.052 
 Eng. inches, — suspended, and screened by the 
 encasing wood from the sun's rays ; the at- 
 tached thermometer indicating 32° Fahr. a 
 breeze blowing from the south. My air-ther- 
 mometer proved bad ; but with the mercm'y of 
 the barometer at 32°, the air would be about 
 30° ; and that stratum of it in contact with om* 
 bodies was of course lower, from the quantity 
 of heat becoming by evaporation latent. I felt 
 little or no desire to sleep ; it would doubtless 
 have been otherwise, with more intense cold.
 
 BEVERAGE— A PISTOL FIRED. .).) 
 
 One of my guides had headach, probably 
 from rather a large quantity of brandy he had 
 taken. The rest assured me individuallj^, that 
 they were well, and they all said that their 
 breathing had not on this occasion, nor on any 
 former one, been affected while at rest upon the 
 summit. I may remark, that I did not find 
 needful for myself, any stronger drink, during 
 the whole journey, than a light wine of Neu- 
 chatel. Lemonade and wine, so far from being 
 loathed, as I understand to have been the case 
 with some, were found most grateful ; but thu-st 
 remained unquenchable. Disinclination to eaf 
 continued, yet did not amount to nausea (VI). 
 
 Saussure said that on the summit of Mont 
 Blanc, the firing of a pistol would make no 
 more noise than a small cracker in a chamber. 
 I fired a pistol on that summit, and caused it 
 to be fired a second time. The report was, in- 
 deed, each time extremely feeble; but losing 
 especially in sharpness, it can scarcely be com- 
 pared with that produced by the explosion of 
 a cracker. I would say it resembled rather 
 the report of a pistol, having the powder quite 
 k>ose, ?". e. not rammed.
 
 56 SOUND— HEIGHT OF THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 The snow forming the last slope was indu- 
 rated, and its surface glazed. When I was as- 
 cending this plane, some of the guides were in 
 advance, by perhaps a hundred yards. I 
 could have imagined that I heard oxen lowing 
 at a distance. It was the creaking noise, pro- 
 duced by the points of the guides' batons in 
 the hardened snow. Slight impulses, which 
 the attenuated air would not have conveyed so 
 far, being thus conducted undiminished by the 
 ice ; an effect favoured, too, by the stillness of 
 those solitudes. 
 
 The height of the mountain, according to 
 Saussure, is 14,700 French, or lo^QijQ English 
 feet (one French foot being — 1.06575, or 
 about ItV English). The apex is formed by 
 indm-ated snow, lodged apparently between the 
 apices of several aiguilles. The extreme apex, 
 as I found it, was a ridge, nearly 200 feet in 
 length, with scarcely any breadth; its dnec- 
 tion east and west ; the slope on the north side 
 very rapid, that on the south more gradual : 
 but its form is of course subject to frequent 
 changes, depending much on the direction of 
 the wind while snow is falling.
 
 FIRE KINDLED ON THE SUMMIT. 57 
 
 Saussui'e found the boiling-point of water on 
 the summit of Mont Blanc to be 68°.993 R. 
 (— 187°.234 F.), the barometer at 16 pouces 
 OU0 ligne (zz 17.131 EngUsh inches), a spirit- 
 lamp having been used in the experiment. I 
 had provided wood and charcoal, for the same 
 pm'pose ; and these, with the aid of beUows, 
 were kindled with less trouble than had been 
 expected, — Couttet having told me that such 
 materials were useless on the summit of Mont 
 Blanc, and that no fire had been made there 
 before.* Water was brought to ebullition, and 
 the height of the mercury in a thermometer 
 carefully observed, when it ceased to rise. The 
 instrument was one procured at Chamonix, my 
 own having been broken. Unfortunately, the 
 scale was loose, and the graduation inaccurate, 
 as since discovered, — so that I do not venture 
 to state exactly the temperatm'e observed by 
 me ; but I have no objection to say, that it did 
 not very widely differ from, though it was ra- 
 
 * I have since found that Saussure had a charcoal fire made 
 on the summit ; but finding it very difficult to keep it up, he 
 used it only to melt a little snow for beverage. Of the char- 
 coal he says, that without the unceasing application of bellows, 
 it was extinguished in a moment.
 
 58 "ROCIIERS MERIDIONALES." 
 
 tlier lower than, that indicated in the experi- 
 ment of Saussiu'e. The mercnrial column on 
 the two occasions was likewise about the same. 
 Water then, because of diminished atmospheric 
 pressure, boils at the summit of Mont Blanc at 
 a temperature, about five-and-twenty degrees 
 below its kno\Yn boiling-point at the level of 
 the sea. 
 
 While on the summit, Couttet fetched me 
 specimens from the "Rochers Meridionales," — 
 the highest rocks on its south side. Two of 
 these, A and B, may be reckoned among the 
 granitoid rocks of Mont Blanc, — the protog}me 
 of some French geologists. Another, C, is 
 hornblende rock, traversed by veins of asbes- 
 tus. There is also a compound of hornblende 
 and felspar, having vesicles, probably of horn- 
 blende, vitrified by lightning, on its surface, — 
 one of the " Rochers a buUes vitreuses" of 
 Saussure. 
 
 In our way down, I procured specunens of 
 the " Derniers Rochers," or " Rochers du 
 Nord," E, two little masses, projecting a few- 
 feet through the snow, near the middle of the 
 last slope, — and therefore just below the apex of
 
 " DERNIERS ROCHERS." 5<) 
 
 the mountain, on the north side. Fragments, 
 doubtless broken off by hghtning, lay stre^vn 
 around them on the snow. At the time of 
 Saussm-e's visit, these " Demiers Rochers" were 
 the highest rocks that naturalists had exa- 
 mined ; and his description of their composi- 
 tion was therefore most minute. He called 
 them granites, but as mica is wanting, — being 
 replaced by talc, — ^they are now more general- 
 ly termed granitoid rocks, or protog3Ta[e (VII). 
 
 Specimens of most of these rocks, marked as 
 above, are now in the Royal Museum of Natu- 
 ral History in the University of Edinburgh. 
 They are interesting, as the highest rocks in 
 Europe. 
 
 Saussure stated the dunensions of one of the 
 " Demiers Rochers," to enable futm*e travellers 
 to ascertain whether snow increased in depth 
 upon the summit. From what I recollect of 
 this rock, it projected just about as much 
 (four or five feet) when I saw it, as it did at the 
 time of Saussure' s visit, which was nearly half 
 a century before ; and I conclude, therefore, 
 that snow does not, upon the whole, deepen on 
 the summit of Mont Blanc.
 
 6*0 PROSPECT PROM THE SUMMIT. 
 
 As if reluctant to approach the subject, I 
 have hitherto said notliing of the stupendous 
 scene spread out beneath me, when upon the 
 summit of the mountain. In truth, I may 
 well be reluctant to approach it, and am not 
 ashamed to own my utter inability to describe 
 that, of which no words can fitly tell. 
 
 For, standing as I did on that mysterious 
 " pjTamid of frozen light" that Goethe saw, — 
 and which he well nigh deemed some heavenly 
 Pharos, shining with the stars, — where should 
 I begin to represent a panorama, far beyond the 
 boundaries of even eagle-vision? — hoAv deli- 
 neate a great half-moon, the Alps, reaching 
 from Hungary to Southern France, — spanning 
 at once the Mediterranean and the Adriatic 
 Seas ? If on the Col de Balme (0) I had no 
 eye for details, how much more were they not 
 inappreciable, from the centre of a circle, having 
 for its radius more than 200 miles ! Is it sur- 
 prising, that in such a picture I was over- 
 whelmed and lost ? 
 
 Mine was a curious state, just as the apex of 
 the mountain was attained. Now, utterly ex- 
 hausted, gasping, fainting, caring nothing for
 
 ACTUAL RANGE OF SIGHT. 61 
 
 the spot on which I stood, sinkmg vipon the 
 snow. A few moments of repose, with normal 
 breathing, and all the exhaustion, faintness, and 
 indifference gone. Then scarcely crediting, but 
 at length assured, that the mountain-top was 
 really gained, receiving back my lost enthusi- 
 asm, and turning with a thrill of exultation 
 never felt before, towards the unutterable great- 
 ness of the scene. 
 
 The actual range of sight, though limited by 
 Alps in various directions, comprehends nearly 
 all Sardinia, the western half of Switzerland, 
 one-third of Lombardy, and an eighth of France. 
 This immense extension, because of Alps, that 
 bound ^it on the north-east and south-west, is 
 really of an oval form ; its longitudinal diame- 
 ter reaching from Mont Morran in France, 
 north-west, to the mountains of Tuscany, south- 
 east. 
 
 I must not attempt more than a bare enu- 
 meration of some of the most striking objects. 
 
 And first, of mountains, — 
 Northwards, — in the foreground and below 
 me, were the Breven and the Aiguilles rouges
 
 ()2 MOUNTAINS. 
 
 (1); then, beyond, the white dome of Buet, with 
 other mountains of Savoy. 
 
 North-east, — the Diablerrets ; fiuther off, the 
 Gemmi'.s bifid top ; and then, in hne, the other 
 splendid snowy peaks of Berne ; of which the 
 Eiger, Jungfrau, and the highest of them all, the 
 pointed Finster-aar-honi (the horn of the dark 
 eagle), were perhaps the most distinct : those 
 Bernese alps, which, seen from the summit of 
 the near Faulhorn, had seemed so vast, now 
 fomiing but an inconsiderable part of the mighty 
 whole. 
 
 Southwards, — ^nearest, the Grsecian alps, in- 
 cluding the Little Saint Bernard, IVTont Iseran, 
 Mont Cenis ; and separating Savoy and the Ta- 
 rentaise, west, from Piedmont and Aosta, east. 
 Then, south and south-west, the clustered Cot- 
 tianAlps, MontViso, which gives rise to the river 
 P6, at their most southern end. Here began 
 the Maritime Alps, which, extending still south- 
 wards, afterwards divide, sending one branch 
 south-west into Provence, another south-east, 
 terminating with the Col de Tende. 
 
 South-east, — the Apennines, in beautiful dis- 
 tinctness, though distant nearly a hundred and 
 fiftv miles.
 
 MOUNTAINS— PLAINS AND VALLEYS. 63 
 
 , East, — not the Great Saint Bernard, — for that 
 momitain is not seen, — ^but just beyond it, Mont 
 Velan ; fiu'ther off, theMatterhoni; and distant 
 about fifty miles, a seven-pointed, cro^\ai-like 
 mountain, with most enormous glaciers. It was 
 Monte Rosa, seated majestically at the east ex- 
 tremity of the Pennine Alps, — the Alpes Sum- 
 7nw, — of which Mont Blanc occupies the western 
 end. The former mountain takes its name, 
 Welden thinks, fi'om the rose tint, given pecu- 
 liarly to it, from its situation, by the rising sun. 
 
 North of east, — the Furca, and the Saint Go- 
 thard. 
 
 West, — close below me, the Col de Bon-hom- 
 me (74), and 
 
 North-west, — the whole chain of Jura, from 
 end to end, — ^i-eaching from Lyons to Basle. 
 
 Of plains and valleys, — 
 
 North, — at my feet, the vale of Chamonix, 
 with the Priory (48), — the latter distant two 
 leagues and half, in a straight line ; the valley 
 winding north-westward, towards Servoz and 
 Sallenche. Much further off, — between the 
 chain of Jura, and the Bernese Alps, — the 
 great vale of Switzerland.
 
 G4 PLAINS AND VALLEYS- WATERS. 
 
 South-east, — at the mountam's foot, Aosta ; 
 much further off, the plains of Piedmont, bound- 
 ed by the Apennines ; and beyond the latter, 
 part of the coast of Genoa. 
 
 Further eastward, Lombardy; beyond which, 
 the eye was lost in a vast blue space, that con- 
 tinues level to the gulf of Venice. 
 J; c^v North-east, — part of the valley of the Rhone, 
 walled by the Helvetian Alps. 
 
 West, — the plains of France. 
 
 Of waters. 
 
 North, — the silver Arve (49), winding through 
 the vale of Chamonix, — then wending towards 
 Geneva, where it pours itself into the Rhone. 
 
 North-west, — part of Lake Leman, like a cre- 
 scentic pond, so small, and seeming not far off, 
 though distant fifty miles. Its eastern half 
 hidden by mountains of Savoy. 
 
 North— and further off, the Lake of Neucha- 
 tel. 
 
 In the south-east, — the windings of the Po and 
 other streams; but not the Mediterranean Sea, — 
 that is hidden, Welden says, by the heights of 
 Coome and Saone.
 
 VIEW TOO VAST FOR THE HUMAN EYE. 65 
 
 These are a small part only of the chief 
 mountains, valleys, plains, and waters. How 
 vast the sea of Alps, the names of whose waves 
 I did not try to learn ; wdth vales and rivers 
 "winding through them, seeming mere dells and 
 brooks, — plains and lakes, that looked like fields 
 and ponds. 
 
 The human eye, however, cannot appreciate 
 the distant objects, and the nearer ones, unless 
 lofty, can be but indistinctly traced, in such a 
 field of view, I saw however, clearly, one 
 range of mountains, more distant than any of 
 those named : these were the heights of Tus- 
 cany, between which and my station there in- 
 tervened about two hundred miles. 
 
 And all of this vast panorama was seen be- 
 neath a sky of ebony, in which there was not 
 nisiUe a cloud. 
 
 But not extent alone ; the kind of scenery 
 was wonderful : and there was no part of it 
 that held the eye so much as the chain of Mont 
 Blanc itself. Seven miles in breadth, and five- 
 and-twenty long, a host of stem and rifted 
 rocks, — the dark " Aiguilles," — projecting 
 through seas of snow, and the bright whiteness 
 
 E
 
 ()G TELL— COLUMBUS— HANNIBAL— C^SAR, &c. 
 
 of " most resplendent glaciers ;"* theii' inac- 
 cessible and needle-tops, — to which we had 
 with dizziness looked up, — now, surmounted, 
 far beneath our feet. We stood upon that pla- 
 cid p3Tamid, seen from the Col de Balme (9), 
 enthroned and dominant among his vassal 
 peaks ; and, years which no man can number, 
 holding his icy, silent, solitary reign. 
 
 The eye took in at once the chill abodes of 
 unrelenting frost, and Italy's fair land, " where 
 citrons bloom ;" it tm-ned from the fi-ozen sum- 
 mits of the highest Alps, doAvn to the velvet 
 verdure of the vales. 
 
 Far in the north, there rose the mountains of 
 the patriot Wilhelm Tell. South, hidden by the 
 Apennines, and distant fifty leagues, the birth- 
 place of Columbus ; of whom Genoa may well 
 be proud. In this direction lay Turin, stormed 
 by the Carthaginian Hannibal; — in that. Cham- 
 ber!, through which place Csesar led his mailed 
 legions, when first marching into Gaul. Here 
 Voltaire had conceived and penned his dreadful 
 l)lasphemies ; — here a Rousseau, — and there a 
 Gibbon Avi'ote, and after having written the last 
 
 * Clissold.
 
 SAUSSURE—BECCARIA—COUTTET'S SKETCH. 67 
 
 sentence of his history, looked at the summit of 
 Mont Blanc. Here was the Col du Geant, where 
 the illustrious Saussure had sojourned fom-teen 
 days : I stood upon the spot, he mainly had 
 been the means of man attaining. And there 
 should stand Milan, the native city of Becca- 
 ria, through whose A^Titings, I believe it was, 
 that the great experiment was tried, for twen- 
 ty years, in Tuscany, — proving that a blood- 
 less might be an efficient code of laws. 
 
 Couttet afterwards shewed me a very toler- 
 able sketch he had on a former occasion made, 
 of the principal objects seen from the sum- 
 mit. He now has a Camera lucida, to use for 
 the same purpose when again there ; if, indeed, 
 he reach that spot yet once more.* 
 
 We had all left the summit by half-past 
 three, — several of the g-uides having descended 
 sooner, a few hundred feet, to a more shelter- 
 ed situation. I left it with extreme regTet. 
 
 * Of the summit I have since had an excellent view from the 
 mountain-roadj between Neuchatel and Basle ; at three or four 
 hours' ride from the former place : so distinct, indeed, as to ad- 
 mit of being sketched. This was at a distance of about thirty 
 leagues in a straight line. De Saussure believed that lie saw it 
 from Dijon in France, distant fifty leagues. 
 
 e2
 
 68 DESCENT RAPID— SEVERE FALLS. 
 
 The descent was rapid, and fearfully so at 
 the " Epaule droite." The guides slid down 
 whole fields of snow, supported by their batons. 
 
 While descending the slopes of ice above the 
 Grand Plateau (60), I met with frequent and se- 
 vere falls, from the new snow concealing their 
 slippery surface ; and as I more than once 
 slipped down to near the margin of a precipice, 
 this was not without its danger. But the 
 guides very coolly drew me up again, and ap- 
 peared to be alarmed only, lest the overhang- 
 ing masses of snow should by these means be 
 set in motion ; for it happened just at a part 
 where they were anxious to proceed as gently 
 as possible, — scarcely ventm*ing to speak aloud, 
 — from its liability to avalanches, which were 
 also very likely to occur at that time of the day 
 (it was between four and five in the afternoon), 
 and by which we might have had a recurrence 
 of the fatal scene of 1820, already referred to, 
 that took place at but a short distance from 
 this spot. 
 
 In the descent, my respiration was not at 
 all disturbed, nor, I believe, that of any of the 
 guides. The only uneasiness affecting me.
 
 MONT BUET : DEATH OF ESCHEN THERE. 69 
 
 commenced at about 2000 feet below the sum- 
 mit, where I became the subject of great lassi- 
 tude, and frequently sank down upon the 
 snow. It was natural that I should by this 
 time have become weary, for the exertion had 
 been long-continued and extraordinary : I had 
 not had more, perhaps, than three hours of 
 sound sleep the night before, — and the previ- 
 ously sustaining stimulus, the mountain-top, 
 was now but a r^^^'ospective object, from which, 
 too, every step removed me further. 
 
 Having tAvice named Mont Buet, I shall give 
 Ebel's account of the melancholy scene, of 
 which I have already called it a warning mo- 
 nument. 
 
 " In the year 1800, on the 7th of August, 
 M. Eschen, a Dane, known in Germany by an 
 excellent translation, in verse, of the odes of 
 Horace, perished miserably upon this moun- 
 tain. Having left Servoz in the evening with 
 a feUow-traveller, he slept at the chalet of 
 Villy. The next morning they ascended the 
 Buet, with their guide. When they had ar- 
 rived upon the glacier of snow, M. Eschen, who 
 Avas some hundred paces in advance, suddenly
 
 70 NARROW ESCAPE ON A CRUST OF SNOW. 
 
 disappeared. His friend and the guide hasten- 
 ed back to obtain assistance, and the same 
 night four men left Servoz to render it. They 
 found the unfortimate Dane in a cleft of the 
 glacier, 100 feet below the sm*face. He was 
 in an upright posture" (I presume wedged in 
 between the approximating sides of the chasm), 
 "liis arms above his head, and entu-ely frozen."* 
 Such might have been my fate also ; for in 
 passing over the hidden cavities we had cross- 
 ed that morning, I stept into a hole con- 
 cealed by snow. I was attached at this time 
 to two guides, — the one preceding me, the 
 other following. On being drawn out, I disco- 
 vered that a mere crust, a few inches thick, 
 was all that still separated me from a chasm, 
 the depth of which could not be ascertained. 
 It is not improbable that the extent of the ca- 
 vity, in other directions, was in proportion to 
 its depth ; and that had more of the crust 
 given way, my two nearest guides would have 
 shared with me the consequences. This affords 
 an example of the necessity for several persons 
 
 * Manuel du Voyagcur en Suisse, traduit de rAllemand, torn, 
 ii. p. 239.
 
 ORGAN OF HEARING— RETURN TO THE ROCK. 71 
 
 being constantly held together by means of 
 ropes ; though even this precaution might 
 have here proved unavailing. 
 
 It appears to me that it is by the drifting of 
 snow over the crevices, as it falls, that they be- 
 come covered and concealed, — flake after flake 
 first clinging, then freezing to the margin ; and 
 thus gradually roofing them with thin crusts. 
 
 Our descent of the steep declivities of snow 
 was very rapid; and, from the experience of 
 some, there might, in consequence, have been 
 expected sensible pressure on the external sur- 
 face of the membrane of the tympanum (the 
 drum of the ear), before an equilibrium of at- 
 mospheric density was established by the Eus- 
 tachian tube. This effect, however, was not ob- 
 served. 
 
 We returned to the Grand Mulct by a quar- 
 ter past six, i. e. in little more than one-fourth 
 of the time it had taken to ascend from this 
 rock to the summit. It was afterwards found 
 that a spectator, — my relative, already mention- 
 ed, — descending from the Breven, had, with the 
 assistance of a glass, counted us, — seven in 
 number, — into these our quarters for the night.
 
 72 ANOTHER NIGHT UPON THE ROCK. 
 
 At half-past six o'clock, the barometer was 
 = 21.225 inches English ; its attached thermo- 
 meter being = 44°. 3 7 Fahr. 
 
 1 saw from that rock another sunset. The 
 sun's disk appeared, as noticed by others, 
 very much smaller than when seen from lower 
 regions. 
 
 A fire was again made, — the cabin recon- 
 structed on the same ledge of rock as before, — 
 we supped, finding our appetites to have return- 
 ed, and retired to rest. The night before, as 
 already mentioned, excitement had kept me 
 much awake ; — this night, I slept most soundly. 
 Two of the guides again passed the night with- 
 out a shelter, but without sustaining any harm. 
 Had a stonn arisen, it is probable that we should 
 all have done the same, — for a gust of wind 
 would have blown away the batons and sheet 
 which formed ovu* cabin. 
 
 As many of the attempted ascents of Mont 
 Blanc have been unsuccessful from bad wea- 
 ther, extreme cold, or fatigue, it seems desir- 
 able that a more substantial shelter should be 
 provided, into which a party could retu*e, for even 
 a few days, if requisite : and it might be worth
 
 PROPOSED CAVITY— PLANTS. 73 
 
 the consideration of the Sardinian Government, 
 to employ some men a month or two, in hew- 
 ing out a cavity in the Grand Mulct Rock, for 
 this purpose. 
 
 The next morning, 18th, on this rock, the ba- 
 rometer, at a quarter past six o'clock, stood at 
 21.198 inches English, the attached thermome- 
 ter being = 39°.87 Fahr. Specimens were col- 
 lected of a few plants growing here. The 
 flowering plants were Aretia alpina, Saxifraga 
 hryoides, — neither of them in flower, — Poa laoca 
 and nemoralis (var. iS ?), — ^both in fruit. Of the 
 grasses, but a single tuft was found. Lichens, 
 Cornicularia latiata, and ochroleuca ; and Gyro- 
 phora polyphylla (? ). Mosses, Sphagnum aciUifo- 
 lium, and a species of Gnmmia, Trichosto- 
 mum ( ? ), and Eucalypta.^ 
 
 Specimens were taken of a mica-slate, con- 
 taining cubes of iron-pyrites ; and of gneiss 
 with asbestus. A small bird was observed on 
 the rock, but I did not see it. We were grati- 
 fied, just before leaving the rock, with the sight 
 
 * Most of these plants were in a state in which it was not easy 
 to determine them. I have been assisted in naming them by 
 Professor Nees Von Esenbeck of Bonn, and by my friend Dr 
 Grevillc of Edinburgh.
 
 74 THE GLACIER RECROSSED. 
 
 of a splendid avalanche, which occurred at a 
 distance, as estimated by one of the guides, of 
 " une demi-heure" (= H mile English) ; and in 
 a few moments, a shower of ice particles, that 
 resulted from it, reached us. 
 
 We left the Grand Mulct Rock at half-past 
 seven A. m., and retraced our steps across the 
 glacier, to the foot of the Aiguille du Midi (37). 
 Here, numerous fragments of ice, very newly 
 fallen, covered the ground for a considerable 
 distance, and we tried to pass quickly over it, 
 in dread of more ; but these fragments served 
 also to retard our progi-ess. 
 
 Having safely recrossed the glacier, all 
 serious danger Avas past. The undertak- 
 ing had been well-timed : it was not until 
 Saussure's tln7'd attempt, and after he had 
 contemplated the ascent for six-and-twenty 
 years, that he succeeded; and the indefati- 
 gable BomTit was obliged to retm'n ^ve times 
 unsuccessful, and never attained his object 
 (IX). 
 
 Human forms were soon afterwards descried 
 upon the rocks below Pierre a I'Echelle ; and I 
 had the satisfaction, trulv not a small one, of
 
 ANXIETY OF A BROTHER. 75 
 
 recognising among them my brother, who, ac- 
 companied by a man and boy, had ascended 
 thus far to meet me. He, as well as others, 
 had witnessed, from the Breven, our arrival on 
 the summit, and had seen us in different parts 
 of the snowy track. His feelings, on first dis- 
 covering us, which had been, as expected, a 
 little before we reached the Grand Plateau (60), 
 may be judged of, from the fact of his having, 
 a few hours previously, observed a tremendous 
 avalanche, near the Grand Mulct, just at the 
 time when we were likely to be leavuig that 
 rock. In magnitude, it had resembled a city 
 falling ; the icy edifices first dashing fearfully 
 down the glacier from side to side; — then 
 bmied in a cloud of particles, into which they 
 had been shivered. 
 
 He was standing at one of the Hotel windows, 
 at the time, with a telescope directed towards the 
 rock. In a state of dreadful suspense, he then as- 
 cended the Breven, from which the best view of 
 our track was to be obtained. From a party that 
 overtook him, he learnt that we had been seen 
 from the valley. The question tlien was, in 
 what direction we were moving. If uj)wards.
 
 7(j OUR TRACK FOLLOWED FROM THE BREVEN. 
 
 the presumption would be that we were all safe; 
 for, of course, had any of the party perished, 
 the rest would have returned. This, however, 
 had not been ascertained. At length, he saw 
 himself, by means of a telescope,- two or three 
 black points, so small that he compares them 
 to the feet of ants. They were not likely to 
 be chamois so high up on the snow. These 
 points, if long watched, were observed to change 
 their relative positions, — sometimes forming, to- 
 gether, a triangle, — sometunes a line, — some- 
 times disappearingbehind the blocks of ice. There 
 remained no doubt of its being our party ; but it 
 was not easy to determine whether our course 
 was up or do>\Ti, — there being no dark and fixed 
 objects, with which to compare our elevation. 
 At length, however, it became certain, that we 
 were ascending, — a discovery most relieving. 
 Our track was now followed, and finally we 
 were seen to reach the summit. 
 
 Soon after re-entering the Forest of Pines, 
 we met a mountain-gM, w ho had ascended thus 
 far, (several thousand feet,) with refreshments 
 for us. 
 
 It was very interesting to me, just before
 
 RETURN TO THE PRIORY. 77 
 
 reaching the valley, to meet with Jacques Bal- 
 mat, mentioned in Note IX., now an old man 
 of seventy-three. 
 
 At the village of Les Pelerins, several of my 
 countrymen met and congratulated me on my 
 safe return ; and as we passed through the val- 
 ley, the cottage doors presented smiling counte- 
 nances, that bespoke a heart-felt welcome, and 
 feelings veiy different from those with which 
 our departure had been witnessed three days 
 before. 
 
 Between three and fom* o'clock in the after- 
 noon, we arrived at the Priory (48), not having 
 met with any accident, and having had three 
 days, driving which I did not see, from zenith to 
 horizon, a single cloud. 
 
 The barometer brought down from Mont Blanc 
 stood at 26.918 English inches at five p.m., the 
 attached thermometer = 71°.37 F. 
 
 In the evening, the g-uides supped with me, 
 my relative, and the venerable Jacques Balmat 
 joining us. What a repast it was ! Jacques 
 Balmat could tell of dangers, half a century 
 gone by, — of anight spent in solitude, in a storm, 
 upon the glacier, — of the exultation felt when
 
 78 SUPPER WITH THE GUIDES & JACQUES BALMAT. 
 
 the summit was for the first time attained ; the 
 result of his own exertions. Couttet, — hm-led 
 into a crevice by an avalanche in 1820, — 
 buried, and almost asphyxized, in the snow, 
 w^hen discovered and dra\^^l out by a fellow- 
 guide,* fallen into the same fissure, — had noAv 
 stood on the summit for the ninth time : with 
 him and Michel Balmat, more especially, I 
 could converse of the dangers we had together 
 shared, for they usually took immediate charge 
 of me, when not requu'ed to go in advance of 
 the party. It was Balmat who had given me 
 the wine, w^hen fainting on the last slope. Of 
 Jean Tairraz I could say, that it w^as he w^ho 
 drew me out of the cavity into which I was 
 falling, and that he made the fire, by which 
 water was boiled on the summit. (He was 
 very anxious that I should notice the lat- 
 ter in his certificate, which was done.) Tour- 
 nier had had me in charge in some critical 
 moments ; Despland had assisted me in scahng 
 
 * Julien Devouassoud, a very distinguished guide, whose af- 
 fecting relation of the catastrophe has been quoted above, from 
 Dr Clarke's narrative. I regretted that his absence from Cha- 
 nionix prevented my having his services.
 
 SUPPOSED DEATH OF JACQUES BALMAT. 79 
 
 t hundi-ed feet of the Grand Mulet ; Pierre 
 Tairraz had taken a fui* covering for his feet 
 during the night, at this rock, but wi-apped it 
 around my ovni. These brave Savoyards, — 
 three days before, I had seen them for the first 
 time; but our common dangers, our hair-breadth 
 escapes, their true services, made my friendship 
 towards them feel as of older date ; and it was 
 with not a little regret, that I bade them fare- 
 weU ! 
 
 I am grieved to leani, by a letter from Couttet, 
 that the interesting old man, Jacques Balmat, 
 is supposed to have perished on a mountain near 
 the " Dent du Midi de Bex," whither he had 
 gone in search of minerals. 
 
 It appeared by the list at the Priory, that 
 mine was the sixteenth ascent, and later in the 
 season, by seven days, than any former one. 
 By the same document, I found myself to be 
 the twentieth person (guides not included), and 
 the twelfth Briton, who had reached the sum- 
 mit.* A certificate, from the Sardinian Go- 
 
 * One woman also has gained the summit ; Maria " dc Mont 
 Blanc, — "still living, I believe, at Chamonix. She accompanied 
 a party of guides.
 
 80 CERTIFICATE 
 
 vernment, of having accomplislied the ascent, 
 was, as is usual, received from the Syndic, or 
 Magistrate of Chamonix, attested by the guides.* 
 
 * Extract from the Certificate : — 
 
 ''NouSj Sin die de la Commune de Chamonix, province de Fau- 
 cigny, Duche de Savoie, certifions et attestons a qui dc droit, que 
 
 Monsieur Martin Barry, Anglais, Docteur en Medecine 'a 
 
 fait I'ascension du Mont-Blanc, le dix-sept du Courant, accom- 
 pagne des six guides de nommes Tairraz Jean Pierre, Couttet Jo- 
 seph Marie, Balmat Jean Michel, Despland Francois, Tournier 
 Simon, et Tairraz Jean. Qu'ils sont partis de Chamonix le seize 
 du Courant pour aller coucher au Grand Mulet, et parvenus le 
 lendemain, dix-sept du Courant, sur la cime du Mont-Blanc, a deux 
 heures apres midi, avec un beau tems, ou Mr le Docteur Barry 
 est reste', accompagne de ses guides, plus d'une heure de tems, 
 et ou il a fait diverses experiences phisiques, et observations ba- 
 rometriques. Qu'ils sont successivement redescendus coucher 
 au Grand Mulet, ou ils sont arrives a sept heures du soir, et de 
 retour ici aujourdhui a Chamonix a trois heures apres- midi, tous 
 sains et saufs : que pendant leur ascension, ils ont continuelle- 
 ment ete apergus et observes par la multitude des vojageurs 
 qui se trouvaient a Chamonix, et par les habitants de la Com- 
 mune, (meme au moment ou ils arriverent a la sommite de 
 cette montagne dont I'elevation fait temerite (?) et la rend re- 
 markable. ***** £]n temoignage de quoi nous lui avons de- 
 livre le present, que nous avons signe's, avec les six guides de 
 Mr Barry." 
 
 Chamonix, le 18. 7. hre. 1834. 
 
 (Signed) Couttet Joseph. Le Sindic de Chamonix, 
 
 Michel Balmat. (Signed) Couttet, 
 
 Jean Tairraz. Sindic, 
 
 Simon Tournier. 
 
 Francois Despland. 
 
 Pierre Tairraz.
 
 TWENTY IN ALL— COUNT DE TILLY. 81 
 
 Of those who have reached the summit up 
 to the present time, there appear to have been 
 
 1 Savoyard, 
 
 2 SAviss, 
 12 Britons, 
 
 1 Courlandais, 
 1 Hamburger, 
 
 1 Pole, 
 
 2 Americans ; 
 
 In all, 20. 
 
 Count de Tilly, a French Nobleman, arrived 
 at Chamonix three weeks afterwards. Hearing 
 that the ascent had so recently been found 
 practicable, and that no countryman of his had 
 ever been up the mountain, he determined to 
 make the attempt, and succeeded. As he re- 
 mained but a few minutes on the summit, it 
 is probable that the cold was very intense. In 
 descending, his feet were frozen. 
 
 The Syndic of Chamonix has obligingly fur- 
 nished me with a list of all those who have ac- 
 complished the ascent. I extract it from his 
 letter : — 
 
 F
 
 g2 LIST OF ASCENTS. 
 
 " Etat de toiites les Ascensions qui ont eu lieu a la Cime du Mont Blanc. 
 
 Date des Ascensions. 
 
 /Jacques Balniat (Guide of Chamonix) de Chamonix. 
 1786, Aout «-lLeDoctcurPaccard 
 
 1787, „ .3. M. De Saussure de Geneve. 
 
 „ „ 9. Lc Colonel Beaufoy ™. Anglais. 
 
 1788, „ 5. M. Woodley — „ „ 
 
 f Biiron Doorthesen — . — de Courlande. 
 
 1802, „ 10. Ij^j p^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ de Lausanne. 
 
 1812, Sept. 10. M. Rhodas (Rodatz ?)„.,.™™™ de Hambourg. 
 
 1818, Aout 4. Le Comte de Matezesecki Polonnais. 
 
 f Le Docteur Rensselaer™„„„- Americain. 
 
 1819, Juin 19. ,, TT 1 
 
 ' i-M. Howard -..-™,™™™™~_~™~-~—~ „ 
 
 ., Aout 13. Le Capitaine Undrell . — „.. Anglais. 
 
 .1822, „ 18. M. Fred. Clissold„™™„™™ ™ „ 
 
 1823, Sept. 4. M. Jackson „ 
 
 , f Le Docteur Edmund Clarke™-.-,-,—™^ „ 
 
 ' " ■ iLe Capitaine Markham Sherwill-^ — „ 
 
 1R07 r -u 05 (M.Chas. Fellowes 
 
 1827, Juill, -o. ^ ^j ^^ Hawes™™™™^.,..™™™ 
 
 „ Aout 9. M. J. Auldjo — ^,...^,, ,„,,. — .~™^ Eccossais. 
 
 1830, „ 3. Le Capitaine Wilbrahani „^„„„«™.^ Anglais. 
 
 1834, Sept. 17. Le Docteur Martin Barry -™~„„„™,„ „ 
 
 „ Oct, 9. Le Comte de Tilly~^,v-^ .,^,-,-™„„„ Frangais." 
 
 The distance walked, in ascending and de- 
 scending Mont Blanc, — from the very zigzag 
 course taken, — is computed at about a hundred 
 miles ; but I do not think it so much. 
 
 On the day after my return from the summit 
 of Mont Blanc, I walked without much incon- 
 venience, by Montanvert (31), to the Jardin, 
 and back to the Priory (48), the same evening, 
 — thus crossing and recrossing the Mer de Glace 
 (30), — a distance said to be = about forty Eng- 
 lish miles ; but this also must be an exagge-
 
 DO I RECOMMEND THE ENTERPRISE TO OTHERS. 83 
 
 rated estimate. Subsequently, all that 1 suf- 
 fered from, was desquamation of part of the 
 epidermis of the face (the effect of the desicca- 
 tion spoken of before),* and some soreness of 
 the lips, and around the nostrils. A state of col- 
 lapse, which was to be expected, after such ex- 
 traordinary exertions, was not perceived to fol- 
 low. 
 
 For observations made mth the barometer 
 and thermometer, vide Note VIII. 
 
 It will be expected that I should now sa}^ 
 whether I recommend others to see for them- 
 selves those scenes, which I have been describ- 
 ing. If I say no, it may seem sinister counsel; 
 for the interest of that summit is just inversely 
 as the number who attain it : if I say yes, how- 
 ever, I must add, as a sine qua 7i07i, the object 
 should be a great one. Mine, I acknowledge, 
 insufficiently provided as I was with instini- 
 ments, was not commensm'ate with the great 
 risk and danger to seven human lives. 
 
 Now, however, that the enterprise has been 
 
 • Possibly this excessive desiccation of the face might be pre- 
 vented, on such an expedition, by using some unctuous matter 
 during the journeA'. 
 
 f2
 
 84 A MINE OF RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 accomplished, there remams a mine of recollec- 
 tions, — inexhaustihle, — always at hand, — call- 
 ed up by slight associations, — ^yielding delight 
 that is ever ne^y. Even the hardships and the 
 perils have their charms, in retrospect ; the es- 
 capes, an interest proportioned to the danger. 
 Held to the guides by ropes, trying each step, 
 among narrow crevices and openings, conceal- 
 ed by recent snow, — clinging with arms and 
 knees, to ice in motion, — walking on narrow 
 and uncertain ridges, between dark chasms, — 
 crossing, by frail ice-bridges, unfathomable 
 depths, — retracing painfully taken steps, — 
 now, by means of ropes, drawn up, and now 
 let down a Avail of ice, — listening, sleepless, the 
 night through, to avalanches, such as might hmi 
 us to destruction on the morrow, — toiling, 
 dispirited, up a vast field of snow, the last for- 
 lorn hope, — sounding for a stepping-place, 
 among the ice-rafters of unseen cavities, — 
 parched with thirst that was unquenchable, — 
 now oppressed with heat, now with feet half 
 frozen, — the surface giving way, and thus 
 ready to be cast down an unliiiow^n depth, at 
 the " Epaule droite," — fainting on the last
 
 A MINE OF RECOLLECTIONS. 85 
 
 declivity, — slipping down to the margin of 
 a precipice, — ready to disappear, throngh a 
 thin and yielding crust of snow, — climbing over 
 ice-debris, just fallen; that debris warning 
 to hasten, yet stopping up the way; — those 
 scenes are now unutterably interesting, to look 
 back upon, — life-long sources of most grateful 
 contemplation. And whether I behold the fairy 
 structures on the glacier, — alps, far below me, 
 glowing in the rosy, crimson, purple light of 
 sunset — the mighty prospect from the summit, 
 — or, more than them all, that moonlight, mid- 
 night hour and half of solitude upon the rock ; 
 —it is a picture of sublimest beauty, vivid and 
 indestructible by time ; but it is one that, not 
 knowing how to paint for others, I must con- 
 tinue to enjoy alone.
 
 NOTES.
 
 - I. Colour of the ice — the ice stratified — seracs. 
 
 II. Effect of contrast on the colour of the sky — cyanometer — a 
 well-marked border to the darker blue. 
 
 III. Evaporation — sun's calorific power. 
 
 IV. Loss of appetite — thirst. 
 
 V. Boussingault — respiration. 
 
 VI. Experience of others in regard to the effect of an attenuated 
 air on respiration — Great differences in this respect from un- 
 known causes — Inhabitants of lofty regions — New comers at 
 first affected — Respiration embarrassed by any great and sud- 
 den change in atmospheric density — Oxygen received and oxy- 
 gen absorbed — Vicarious office of the liver — Rest, and muscu- 
 lar exertion — Gay-Lussac, balloon — Boussingault^, impure air 
 — objection to his analysis — Sensations experienced by some, 
 much severer than mine — Hsemorrhages — cause of Hsemorrhages 
 — Speaking at great heights. 
 VII. Brochant de Villiers on the granitoid rocks of Mont Blanc. 
 
 VIII. Observations with the barometer and thermometer. 
 
 IX. Early attempts to ascend Mont Blanc — 1760 and 1761, Saus- 
 sure promised a reward — 1762, Pierre Simon made the first at- 
 tempt — 1775, four men by the mountain of La Cote — 1783, 
 three guides of Chamonix — same year, an attempt by Bourrit — 
 1784, Bourrit — 1786, Saussure, Bourrit, and Bourrit jun. — 1786, 
 six men of Chamonix — same year, Jacques Balmat, and Dr Pac- 
 card succeeded, the first who reached the summit — Saussure's 
 attempt to follow their track — 1787, Saussure's ascent — same 
 year, another attempt by Bourrit — 1788, Bourrit's fifth and last 
 attempt, unsuccessful. 
 
 X. Narratives published, — Saussure, Clissold, Clarke, Sherwill, 
 Auldjo, Wilbraham.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 (I.) The blue-green colour of the ice, when 
 occurring in large masses, — a phenomenon, not 
 less interesting than beautiful, — is here seen 
 upon the grandest scale. 
 
 The ice is disposed in strata, which are com- 
 pact in proportion to then- dej)th ; the lower 
 being blue-green, solid ice, — the upper, nearly 
 white, indurated snow. The lines of strati- 
 fication mark intervals of time between depo- 
 sits of snow ; the latter becoming, by infiltra- 
 tion, converted into ice. 
 
 Masses of compact snow are met with, 
 remarkably rectangular, sometimes almost 
 cuboid in their tbrm. These are called "seracs," 
 from their resemblance to a kind of Swiss 
 cheese, in shape. 
 
 (II.) The effect of contrast on the sky-blue is 
 familiar, as produced b}^ dense and bright Avhite 
 cumuli, the sails of a ship, and otluM- ol)jo(*ts ;
 
 <J() EFFECT OF CONTRAST ON THE 
 
 but this effect becomes in proportion more re- 
 markable, if, as in the lofty regions of Mont 
 Blanc, the blue be already greatly deeper, and 
 the observer immediately suiTounded by vast 
 walls of snow. 
 
 In lilvc manner, red and green are heighten- 
 ed by being viewed together, and so are blue 
 and yellow. There are circumstances also, 
 under which the complementary colom* of 
 some of these is recognisable on other objects. 
 Thus red clouds, or the roseate hue derived by 
 glaciers from the setting sun, are sometimes 
 seen to tinge, subjectively, the pale sky near 
 the horizon, green. 
 
 Boussingault's observations * on the effect 
 of snow upon the colom* of the sky, — made in 
 his attemi^ted ascent of Chimborazo, — corrobo- 
 rate my own. Hence the value of the cyano- 
 meter above the snow-line, depends on a judi- 
 cious choice of stations by the observer. The 
 tint appeared to me to be influenced by the 
 position of the sun, in relation to the snow- 
 masses ; i. e. by the angle of incidence of rays 
 upon the surface of the latter : and, arrogant 
 
 Ed. New Phil. Journal, Apr. — July, 1835.
 
 COLOUR 01' THE SKY—EVAPORATION. 91 
 
 as it may seem for me to say so, I cannot lielp 
 thinking that some discrepancies in Saussure's 
 results were referrible to this cause. It is de- 
 serving of remark, that the ebon sky of Mont 
 Blanc did not pass gradually into the pale 
 whitish-blue of the horizon ; but terminated 
 by a well-marked border, at some ten or 
 twelve degrees above the latter : thus point- 
 ing out two contiguous strata of the atmo- 
 sphere, in which there were suspended very 
 different quantities of vapour. 
 
 (III.) Evaporation was augmented, partly 
 by the diminished density of the air, partly 
 by the greater heating power, at that height, of 
 the sun's rays, as well du-ect, as those reflect- 
 ed from the snow. Professor Forbes has been 
 so kind as to make known to me the results of 
 his observations with the actinometer upon the 
 Faulhorn; which shew, that in passing through 
 a column of air of six thousand feet, at an ob- 
 liquity of 45°, the sun's rays lose about one- 
 fifth of their calorific power ; and that, there- 
 fore, at the summit of Mont Blanc, they com- 
 municate about 1.4 (l/o) as much heat as at 
 the level of the sea, at a vertical incidence.
 
 <)2 -BOUSSINGAULT— RESPIRATION. 
 
 (IV.) This loss of appetite resulted probably 
 from sympathy between the stomach and the 
 surface of the body (the latter having? been 
 affected first) ; and a deficiency or vitiation of 
 the secretions of the stomach, was doubtless 
 the chief cause of thirst, — s^aiipathetically re- 
 ferrible to the fauces. 
 
 (V.) Boussiiigault and Hall in then* attempt- 
 ed ascent of Chimborazo, experienced at a 
 great elevation an unusual difficulty of breath- 
 ing- and w^eakness, so long as they ascended ; 
 but got free of this when they ceased moving. 
 It is added, " when we sat down, w^e believed 
 that we were in our usual state of health." 
 They had, however, long resided in the high- 
 lying towns of the Andes.* 
 
 (VI.) Nearly all of those Avho have ascended 
 Mont Blanc, — of whose sensations we have 
 any record, — seem to have been affected more 
 than I was by Dyspnoea. Saussure f found it 
 difficult from this cause, to make the exertion 
 requisite, in the use of his instruments of me- 
 
 ■"• Ed. NeAY Phil. .Tom-nal, April-July, 1835. 
 t Voyages dans Ics Alpes, torn. vii. p. 231.
 
 ATTENUATED AIR— RESPIRATION. 93 
 
 teorology, on one of the Plateaus, 3000 feet 
 below the summit ; and his guides became so 
 soon exhausted, on attempting- to excavate the 
 snow, that Saussm*e says they had from mo- 
 ment to moment to relieve each other. The 
 sufferings of Beaufoy, Clarke, Sherwill, and 
 others, might be here mentioned. On the 
 other hand, Clissold, * as well as one of his 
 guides, reached the summit of this mountain, 
 without being at all affected in then* respira- 
 tion ; while the rest of the party suffered se- 
 verely from this cause : and yet, the guide 
 who was not at all incommoded on that occa- 
 sion, is said to have undergone, on a former 
 one, much suffering in this way, 5000 feet be- 
 low the summit. There is a gentle inclination 
 (I found it under 20°) from the extreme edge 
 of the ridge, forming the apex of the mountain, 
 to the " Rochers Meridionales," — the highest 
 rocks on the south side. Clissold says he " felt 
 not the least ill consequence," from running a 
 considerable way down this plane ; while one 
 of his guides, walking only, was obliged to lie 
 down. Saussure's leading guide, — Balmat, 
 " le Mont Blanc,'' — when running to procure 
 
 • Narrative of an Ascent, &c. Auo-. 1822.
 
 94 ATTENUATED AIR— RESPIRATION. 
 
 specimens from the same rocks, fell, and was 
 obliged to remain down some time, to recover 
 his respu-ation. One of my guides, a rohnst 
 young man of about twenty, reached the apex 
 ten minutes before any others of the party, 
 and seemed little, if at all, affected in this 
 way. It was his first ascent ; — he was enthu- 
 siastic ; — and hence perhaj)s, the cause, in 
 part, of his exemption. I believe that all the 
 rest of my guides suffered, though some of 
 them less severely than myself. " Lieut. Ger- 
 ard * reached the Himalayan heights of 
 16,921,-18,943, and 19,411 feet above the sea, 
 respectively, at three different times. In each 
 instance, the ascent was upwards of 7000 feet 
 above their encampment. During these jom*- 
 neys, his party felt extreme fatigue, debility, 
 and severe headach. Previously, the party 
 had been travelling, for several weeks, ten and 
 twelve hours per day. Nothing is here said 
 of respiration." 
 
 It would seem then, that while some have 
 suffered more than myself, from embarrassed 
 respiration, others have suffered much less ; 
 that there have been differences in this respect, 
 
 * Transactions of the Geological Society, New Scries, vol. i.
 
 INHABITANTS OF LOFTY REGIONS. i)5 
 
 not only among individuals of the same party, 
 at the same time, but in the same person, at 
 different times. How far referrible to the con- 
 dition of the system, and how far, to atmo- 
 spheric changes, is still uncertain. I have been 
 endeavouring to construct a table, that should 
 shew, in columns, the amount of coincidence 
 between the sensations felt, by a great num- 
 ber of travellers, on high mountains, and some 
 of the attendant, more or less influencing, cir- 
 cumstances ; in which latter would be includ- 
 ed, besides j)ressure and temperature of the 
 atmosphere, also its hygrometric and electric 
 states, the wind, latitude, elevation, season, 
 time of day, kind of surface travelled over, 
 age and habit of body of the traveller, &c. ; — 
 but the data have been found insufficient, and 
 the attempt has for the present failed. Yet 
 until such data are fm*nished, it will not be 
 easy to an-ive at any satisfactory conclusions. 
 We know that in some parts of the world, 
 the inhabitants continually breathe an atmo- 
 sphere not denser, and even more rare, than 
 that at the summit of Mont Blanc ; using also 
 continued muscular exertions, which neces- 
 sarily accelerate the breathing. Chicoito had
 
 <)() INHABITANTS OF LOFTY REGIONS. 
 
 formerly a population of 30,(H)0 souls ; and is 
 seated several hundred feet higher than the 
 Grand Plateau. Potosi, in Peru, is equal in 
 elevation to the Jungfrau. " The lowest part 
 of the table-land, or plain of Thibet, is 14,924 
 feet above the level of the sea. Through this 
 rolls the Sutledge, and it abounds in the finest 
 pastures, and myi'iads of quadrupeds. Consi- 
 derably above this part of the bed of the Sut- 
 ledge, is situated the town of Daba, which ap- 
 pears to be tenanted in all seasons."* 
 
 Boussingault f mentions the strength and 
 wonderful activity of the Torcadores, in bull- 
 fights at Quito, 3000 metres above the sea; 
 and that he has seen young and delicate fe- 
 males, dancing the night through, at places 
 nearly as high as Mont Blanc. 
 
 The celebrated battle of Pichincha Avas 
 fought nearly at the height of Monte Rosa. 
 There is a village at the Nitee Ghaut pass, 
 in the Himalayan mountains, not less than 
 16,000 feet above the level of the sea ; — ^thus 
 nearly 5000 feet above the height, at which 
 some guides have been known to " fall down 
 
 * Quarterly Review, vol. xxii. 
 
 t Ed. New Phil. Jour. April-July, 1836.
 
 GREAT AND SUDDEN CHANGE OF DENSITY. 07 
 
 fi'om exhaustion, in ascending Mont Blanc." — 
 (Clissold.) 
 
 New comers into these lofty regions are at 
 first affected ; and so are the inhabitants them- 
 selves, if they ascend to certain heights be- 
 yond. We have instances too, of those living 
 at great elevations, being incommoded on their 
 descending to lower levels. The diving-bell 
 also, affords examples of inconvenience result- 
 ing from increased atmospheric density. 
 
 Thus, respiration becomes embarrassed, by 
 any great and sudden change of density, — 
 whether by increase or diminution, — in the me-, 
 dium through which it is performed. The mi- 
 nimum of density, at which this function 
 would become, by habit, possible, — we do not 
 yet Imow. 
 
 In my case, a reduction of more than one- 
 third,* in atmospheric density, — the interme- 
 diate pressures having been passed through 
 in the ascent, — (temperature of the air about 
 30° F.) was not found to incommode respira- 
 tion, when I was at rest ; it admitted too of 
 slight exertion on a horizontal surface, and of 
 
 * Barometer at Chamonix, say twenty-seven inches Eng. 
 — at the summit of Mont Blanc, say seventeen ; — difference = 
 IS, or more than one-third.
 
 98 REST— MUSCULAR EXERTION. 
 
 walkiiifi^ down hill ; neither of which so much 
 quickened the circulation, but that the supply 
 of oxygen was still equal to the demand ; at 
 least there occurred no immediate manifesta- 
 tion of deficiency.* But the eiforts requisite 
 in walking up a plane of about 30°, — its surface 
 glazed, and therefore requiring extra mus- 
 cular exertion to prevent slipping, — were suffi- 
 cient, in that atmosphere, to produce, sudden- 
 ly, the sensations I have mentioned : the se- 
 verity of which became rapidly augmented, 
 not so much, I apprehend, from a further at- 
 tenuation of the air, the higher we ascended, 
 as from the accumulating consequences of its 
 first-perceived tenuity. 
 
 There is reason to believe that the quantity 
 of oxygen ahsorhed by the lungs, does not al- 
 ways bear the same ratio to the quantity re- 
 
 * Gay-Lussac, in a balloon^ reached the height of three-and- 
 twenty thousand feet, — the barometer at little more than twelve 
 inches, — without experiencing sensations, to be compared in 
 their severity, with those sometimes produced, with muscular 
 exertion, at little more than half this elevation. He suffered 
 from cold, accelerated pulse, and respiration ; and his throat 
 became parched, he says, from inhaling the attenuated air. 
 Now he was in a state of rest. His respiration then, would be 
 the function first affected : it wovdd be quickened, to make up 
 in volume, what the air had lost in density ; and accelerated 
 circulation naturally, and in the same proportion, followed.
 
 OXYGEN RECEIVED, AND OXYGEN ABSORBED. 99 
 
 ceived into their cells. If the evolution of ani- 
 mal heat is directly as the oxygen absorbed, it 
 certainly does not. For on this supposition, 
 — ^the air at Chamonix having a density m 27, 
 that at the summit of Mont Blanc =17, and 
 the temperature at the upper station being 
 many degrees below that at the lower, — the 
 absorption of oxygen must have been, — not 
 relatively alone, but also, — absolutely greater, 
 from the rarer, than from the denser air. 
 (The temperature of the air at Chamonix was 
 more than twice as high as that at the sum- 
 mit of Mont Blanc.) 
 
 But the quantity of carbon excreted by the 
 lungs, is directly as the quantity of oxygen 
 absorbed by the same organ. If therefore the 
 pulmonary absorption of oxygen is reduced, 
 the carbon must find an outlet through some 
 other channel. Such an emunctory for carbon 
 seems provided in the liver ; this organ being 
 obviously vicarious of the lungs, — though it 
 is by degrees only, that it assumes this office. 
 
 Hence perhaps it is, that the liver often be- 
 comes h3q3ertrophied, by circumstances that 
 diminish consumption of oxygen by the lungs ; 
 as, for example, change from a cold to a hot 
 
 g2
 
 100 THE LIVER VICARIOUS OF THE LUNGS. 
 
 climate : and the human foetus in utero, as 
 well as many of the lower animals, present 
 examples of the size of the one organ being 
 almost inversely as that of the other. It 
 would be interesting to determine, whether 
 the liver, upon the whole, is larger in the in- 
 habitants of the torrid, than in those of tem- 
 perate and frigid zones. We should not ex- 
 pect to find it larger, in those who inhabit ele- 
 vated regions ; because the difference in the 
 temperature of the air generally compensates 
 for the difference in its density ; and, by in- 
 creasing the pulmonary absorption of oxygen, 
 it increases also, the pulmonary, — and there- 
 fore renders needless the vicarious hepatic, — 
 excretion of carbon. 
 
 Boussingault, f having found ascending 
 to the same height on snow, more oppressive 
 than on naked rock, — and having suffered too 
 from difficult breathing, when the sun was 
 shining on the snow, — imagines that an im- 
 pure air is evolved from the latter ; and re- 
 gards an analysis he made, of air which he 
 had tried to procure fi-om the interstices of 
 snow on Chimborazo, as a confirmation of re- 
 
 + Ed. New Phil. Jour. April— July, 1835.
 
 BOUSSINGAULT, MOUNTAIN-SNOW. lUl 
 
 suits obtained by Saussure ; who supposed 
 that the ah' of mountain-snow contained less 
 oxygen than common air. Boussingault ad- 
 mits, however, that his o\yn mode of obtain- 
 ing air from the pores of snow, was such as 
 to subject it to adulteration. His analysis 
 therefore is not of much value : and as to the 
 greater difficulty of breathing, which he ex- 
 perienced in ascending on snow, than on naked 
 rock, it may have been the effect of a more 
 accelerated circulation; the latter being caused, 
 — if the snow were soft, by the muscular exer- 
 tion required in wading through it, — if hard, 
 by the efforts requisite to prevent slipping. 
 
 How much severer than mine, were the 
 sensations experienced by some of the nine- 
 teen who had reached the summit of Mont 
 Blanc before me, as well as those encountered 
 by some travellers, on other mountains. 
 
 Colonel Beaufoy had violent palpitations, — 
 his guides excessive vomiting. 
 
 Count de Lusi (who did not reach quite the 
 summit) says, three of his guides bled freely 
 from the nose, and one from the mouth ; — two 
 of the party complained of nausea, and of con- 
 siderable inclination to sleep.
 
 102 HAEMORRHAGES. 
 
 Dr Clarke says, " one of the guides had some 
 haemorrhage, from an accidental blow, — not 
 from simple rarefaction of the air. The blood 
 appeared to me decidedly of a darker colour 
 than natm-al. I had a slight tendency to nau- 
 sea, most overwhelming headache, some pain 
 of the breast, and rather feared the rupture of 
 a bloodvessel, — ^liaving been subject to hsemop- 
 tysis when a boy ; but this pain, and the ra- 
 pid beating of the heart, went off when we 
 stopped to rest." 
 
 Fellowes says, "the noses of several of om* 
 guides burst out with blood ; the eyes of all 
 were bloodshot."* 
 
 Auldjo was half dragged, half carried, by 
 his guides. 
 
 Zumstein suffered from haemorrhage on 
 Monte Rosa. 
 
 Bouguer had several hsemoiThages on the 
 Cordilleras of Quito. 
 
 Humboldt and Bonpland, on Chimborazo, 
 felt a tendency to vomit; and blood oozed 
 from the eyes, lips, and gums. 
 
 Boussingault mentions haemorrhage, as hav- 
 ing been produced on the same mountain, in 
 
 * Unpublished Narrative.
 
 SPEAKING AT GREAT HEIGHTS. 1 (K> 
 
 his Indian gnicle, on calling aloud to his com- 
 panion. 
 
 The occurrence of haemorrhages, in the as- 
 cent of high mountains, has thus been a fre- 
 quent, but very variable phenomenon. Some 
 of those now mentioned, were probably me- 
 chanical effects of the internal and external 
 pressures not being at first in equiUbrio. 
 Tlie other symptoms differ from my own in 
 degree, rather than in kind. 
 
 It is known that speaking aloud at great 
 heights is difficult : an example too, has been 
 afforded, where calling aloud was followed by 
 haemorrhage. It must not however be forgot- 
 ten, that air losing in density, loses also its 
 power of conducting sound ; and therefore, 
 that speaking at such heights may be more 
 forcible than it seems.
 
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 100 GRANITOID ROCKS OF MONT BLANC. 
 
 (VII.) Brochant de Villiers * objects to a 
 name (protogyne) implying priority of forma- 
 tion. His conclusions regarding these rocks 
 are as follows : — 
 
 Istly, That the granitoid rocks of Mont Blanc, 
 and other similar ones of the high smnmits of 
 
 the Alps (from Mont Cenis to the Saint- 
 Gothard), are not granites ; — and that, conse- 
 quently, it does not appear that there is in 
 these high summits a formation, properly called 
 granite. 
 
 2dly, That these granitoid rocks are only 
 extreme varieties (more crystalUne and more 
 abundant in felspar), of a felsparry, talcaceous 
 rock, much more abundant in the Alps, — and 
 with which they are found united. 
 
 ^dly, That this talcaceous rock, — equally 
 associated with other talcaceous rocks, — con- 
 stitutes a particular, and rather compound, 
 formation, — which predominates in a great 
 part of the Alps. 
 
 ^thly. That the metallic ores are found al- 
 most always in beds, in this formation. 
 
 i)thly. That there exists in the Alps, a true 
 formation of granite, on the southern border of 
 
 * Aunalcs (its Mincs^ Tom. 4.
 
 BAROMETRICAL OBSERVATIONS. 107 
 
 the chain ; which, according to analogy, found- 
 ed on all the facts at present received in geo- 
 logy, contributes, with all the preceding cha- 
 racters, to establish the relatively inferior age 
 of the pretended granites of Mont Blanc, and 
 of the high Alps, — as well as that of the talca- 
 ceous formations, of whieh they constitute a 
 part. 
 
 (VIII.) The barometrical and thermometri- 
 cal observations at the several stations men- 
 tioned, as weU as those made at Geneva, and 
 at the Hospice of the Great St Bernard,* on 
 
 * The observations made at the Hospice of the Great St Ber- 
 nard^ and at Geneva, on the l7th, were politely furnished me by- 
 Professor Maurice, principal editor of the " Bibliotheque Uni- 
 verselle," Geneva. For the sake of uniformity, I have reduced 
 the barometrical measurements, from French pouces, lignes,and 
 decimals, to English inches and decimals; and the thcrmometri- 
 cal, from degrees of Reaumur, to those of Fahrenheit. Per- 
 iiaps, however, Geneva is too distant a station, as long ago fore- 
 seen by Sir George Schuckburgh. It is a remarkable fact, that 
 the average differences between the mercurial column at the 
 Hospice of the Great St Bernard, and that at Geneva, are far 
 from uniform from time to time, although these averages are de- 
 ducedfrom observations of twelve months, — aperiod sufficiently 
 long, one may suppose, to compensate the effect of any i:)os- 
 sible error. I am Informed by a relative of mine, that the com- 
 parative heights of the mercury at these two stations, for ten years, 
 asglveninthe Bibliotheque Universelle for 1833, tomel. pp. 27. 
 and 32, — both having been by him reduced to the decimal frac- 
 tions of a " llgne," — appear to be as follow ; their differen-
 
 108 BAROMETRICAL OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 the 17th Septemher, arc given in the follow- 
 ing- table. 
 
 
 Barometer. 
 
 Thermometer. 
 
 
 Eng. Inches. 
 
 attached. 
 
 Mont Bii 
 
 mc. Summit, Sept. 17, p. m. 2^ 
 
 17.052 
 
 32°.00 F. 
 
 
 r „ IG, ^ 61 
 Grand J ^-, ^ ^^ 
 
 21.235 
 
 45°.50 „ 
 
 
 21.225 
 21.198 
 
 44°.37 ~ 
 39°.87 ^ 
 
 Priory. 
 
 Chamonix, ~ 18, p. m. 5 -j 
 (After descent from M. Blanc)/ 
 
 26.918 
 
 71°. 37 „ 
 
 
 Jardin, - 19, p. m. 3 
 
 22.034 
 
 58°.44 -, 
 
 
 Montanvert, ^19, ~ 8 
 
 24.334 
 
 61°.25 ^ 
 
 Priory. 
 
 Chamonix, ^ 19, ~ 11 ■« 
 (After returning from Jardin) J 
 
 26.973 
 
 64°. 62^ 
 
 
 r „ 1 7. A. M. 9 
 
 22.717 
 
 59°. 45 ^ 
 
 Great St Bernard. \ „ 17, noon. 
 
 22.717 
 
 61°.25 ^ 
 
 
 C - 17, p. M. 3 
 
 22.700 
 
 61°.47 ~ 
 
 
 r „ 17, A. M. 9 
 
 28.962 
 
 72°.50^ 
 
 Geneva, 
 
 < ~ 17, NOON, 
 
 28.962 
 
 78°. 11 ^ 
 
 
 ( „ 17, P.M. 3 
 
 28.930 
 
 78°. 11^ 
 
 The barometer employed for these observa- 
 tions was an excellent one by Gonrclon, Gene- 
 va. Its graduation was according to the 
 French scale, but the observations are here, 
 
 ces, it will be seen, — inserted in the least column, — are not a 
 uniform quantity • 
 
 Year. 
 
 Geneva. 
 Pouce. Ligne. 
 
 Great St Bernard 
 Pouce. Ligne. 
 
 Mean 
 . Annual Ditference. 
 Pouce. Ligne. 
 
 1823 
 
 26 
 
 10.73 
 
 20 
 
 9.32 
 
 ^ 
 
 6 
 
 1.41 
 
 1824 
 
 26 
 
 10.98 
 
 20 
 
 9.54 
 
 := 
 
 6 
 
 1.44 
 
 1825 
 
 26 
 
 11.55 
 
 20 
 
 9.49 
 
 — 
 
 6 
 
 2.06 
 
 1826 
 
 26 
 
 9.93 
 
 20 
 
 9.79 
 
 z= 
 
 6 
 
 0.14 
 
 1827 
 
 26 
 
 10.65 
 
 20 
 
 9.20 
 
 = 
 
 6 
 
 1.45 
 
 1828 
 
 26 
 
 11.10 
 
 20 
 
 9.74 
 
 = 
 
 6 
 
 1.36 
 
 1829 
 
 26 
 
 10.30 
 
 20 
 
 9.63 
 
 — 
 
 6 
 
 0.67 
 
 1830 
 
 26 
 
 10.91 
 
 20 
 
 10.59 
 
 — 
 
 6 
 
 0.32 
 
 1831 
 
 26 
 
 10.65 
 
 20 
 
 10.30 
 
 _. 
 
 6 
 
 0.35 
 
 1832 
 
 26 
 
 11.48 
 
 20 
 
 11.07 
 
 __ 
 
 6 
 
 0.41
 
 EARLY ATTEMPTS TO ASCEND MONT BLANC. 109 
 
 for the reader's convenience, reduced to Eng- 
 lish inches. The instrument was suspended 
 at a height to suit the eye, and shaded from 
 the sun as ah*eady mentioned. It is to be re- 
 gretted, that the suddenness of my ascent of 
 the mountain, — tempted as I was at its base, 
 by the fineness of the season, — precluded me 
 from obtaining additional instruments, with 
 which the data might have been completed, 
 for repeating the calculations of preceding tra- 
 vellers, as to the height of Mont Blanc. 
 
 (IX.) The following is a short account of 
 the early attempts to ascend Mont Blanc. It 
 is derived chiefly from the writings of Saus- 
 sure and Ebel : — 
 
 Notwithstanding the great extent of this 
 mountain, it can be approached from scarcely 
 any side. On the south, south-west, and 
 south-east, vast walls of rocks, — abrupt, and 
 many thousand feet in height, — render it ab- 
 solutely inaccessible; on the north, north-east, 
 and north-west, it is surrounded by monstrous 
 glaciers, walls of ice, precipices, and treacher- 
 ous snows. 
 
 In 1700 and 1761, Saussure promised a 
 considerable reward to those who should dis-
 
 110 FIRST ATTEMPT, IN 1762. 
 
 cover any way, hj which it might be possible 
 to attain the summit; offering even day- 
 wages to those whose attempts should be un- 
 successful. 
 
 In 1762, Pierre Simon, of Chamonix, nfuide 
 the first attempt, by the glacier des Bossons 
 (62), and also by that of Tacul ; but without 
 success. 
 
 In 1775, fom* men tried it by the mountain 
 of la Cote (64), which lies between the gla- 
 ciers of Bossons (62) and Taconnaz {Qo). They 
 then entered a great snow-valley, which ap- 
 peared to lead du'ectly to the summit. Every- 
 thing seemed to promise them success ; they 
 had the finest weather, — they met with neither 
 too broad fissures, nor too steep acclivities. 
 But the sun's rays, reflected from the snow, 
 and the "stagnation of the air" in that valley, 
 caused them to experience, they said, a sufib- 
 cating heat, — and gave them at the same 
 time such a distaste for their provisions, that, 
 overcome with fasting and fatigue, they had 
 to retrace their steps, without having encoun- 
 tered any visible and insm-mountable obsta- 
 cle. It appeared too, that they had made 
 gi*eat efforts ; from the effects of which, they 
 aU subsequently suffered.
 
 THREE GUIDES OF CHAMONIX 111 
 
 In 1783, another attempt was made by three 
 guides of Chamonix ;* who, following the same 
 route, passed a night on the mountain of la 
 Cote (04), traversed the glacier, and proceeded 
 up the same valley of snow. They had reached 
 a tolerable height, when one of them, — the 
 most hardy and robust of the three, — was 
 seized almost suddenly, with a desh-e to sleep, 
 that was irresistible. He wished the others to 
 leave him, and go forward ; but, persuaded that 
 he would, in such case, " die of a coup de so- 
 leil," they preferred to abandon the enterprise, 
 and returned. They were all excessively op- 
 pressed by the heat, — ^had no inclination to eat, 
 — and, what is remarkable, none for wine. One 
 of themf seriously told Saussure, that it was 
 useless to carry any provisions on this journey ; 
 and that if he had to go again, he would take 
 nothing but a parasol, and a bottle of scent. 
 " When," says Saussure, " I imagined this 
 great and robust mountaineer ascending those 
 snows, holding in one hand a parasol, and in 
 the other a bottle of " eau sans pareille," it ap- 
 
 * Jean Marie Couttet, — Lombard Menier, called " Jorasse," 
 — and Joseplx Carrier. 
 
 t Jorasse.
 
 112 1783, 1784, ATTEMPTS BY BOURRIT. 
 
 pearcd so stran«>e and ridiculous, that nothing- 
 could have presented more forcibly, the diffi- 
 culty of this enterprise, — and consequently the 
 absolute impossibility of success, for men who 
 have neither the head nor the legs of a good 
 guide of Chamonix." 
 
 Nevertheless, the naturalist Bourrit, of Ge- 
 neva, tried it at the end of the same season, 
 1783 ; but was driven back by a storm. " For 
 my part," says Saussm'e, " after the informa- 
 tion I had received from those who had at- 
 tacked the mountain from that side, I re- 
 garded success as absolutely impossible ; and 
 it was the opinion of all the ' gens senses' of 
 Chamonix." 
 
 The year following, 1784, in September, 
 Bourrit endeavoured to ascend the mountain 
 from the western side ; but extreme cold and 
 fatigue overcame him. Two of his guides, 
 however, Chamois hunters,* continued to as- 
 cend Bourrit saw them in the midst of the 
 high snows; and on their return, they declared 
 that they had proceeded to within 60 toises 
 (nearly 400 Eng. feet) of the highest point. 
 
 In 1785, Saussure, Boumt, and the son of 
 
 * Marie Couttet, and Francois Ciiidet.
 
 1786, THE SUMMIT ATTAINED. 113 
 
 the latter, made a iiew attempt, attended by 
 15 guides. They set off in September from 
 Bionassay, and directed their course north- 
 east, by Pierre-ronde, to the foot of the Aiguille 
 du Gout^ (58) ; where they passed the night. 
 The next day, they ascended this aiguille ; but 
 the snow was so soft, that they could not pro- 
 ceed further. The heat was insupportable, al- 
 though the thermometer in the shade indicated 
 only 2'.5, and in the sun, not more than 4". 7 
 Reauinm- (?) {- 37'.6 and 42°.5 Fahrenheit). 
 
 In 1786, in the month of June, six men of 
 Chamonix attempted it ; but fatigue and other 
 circumstances constrained them to renounce 
 the enterprise. One of them, Jacques Bal- 
 MAT, — in quest of minerals on a rock, projecting 
 through the snow, — strayed from the party, and 
 was obliged to pass the night alone, in a storm 
 upon the glacier. The vigour of youth saved 
 his life. In the morning, he perceived the 
 smnmit at no great distance ; and, by persever- 
 ance that was wonderful, found out a way by 
 which it appeared to him accessible. 
 
 Jacques Balmat and Dr Paccard, were the 
 first who attained, the summit of Mont Blanc. 
 This was in the same year (1786). On the 7tli of 
 
 H
 
 114 JACQUES BALMAT, AND DR PACCARD. 
 
 August, they set off together from Chamonix, 
 and proceeded to the top of the mountain of la 
 Cote (64) ; where they passed the night. The 
 following day, at 4 a. m., they entered upon 
 the fields of ice. At 3 p. m. they were still igno- 
 ant what would be the success of then* enter- 
 prise. The Doctor was greatly affected by 
 fatigue and cold ; and Balmat did not cease to 
 encourage him. At length, they perceived yet 
 a summit above them, without knowing whe- 
 ther it was the last or not. At half-past 6, 
 they attained the most elevated point, in 
 sight of all Chamonix, and of many stran- 
 gers, who followed their track, by means of 
 telescopes. At 7, they quitted the summit, — 
 reached at midnight the mountain of la Cote 
 (64), their resting j)lace the night before, — 
 where they now took two hours of repose ; and 
 arrived at Chamonix (48), at 8 in the morning 
 of the 9th, — after having passed twenty succes- 
 sive hom's on the ice ; their faces greatly swol- 
 len, and their eyes in very bad condition. The 
 King of Sardinia made Balmat a present ; and 
 M. de Gersdorf, — a Saxon gentleman then at 
 Chamonix, — on returning home, raised a sub- 
 scription, and seiit to M. Bourrit 17 Louis for
 
 1 787, SAUSSURE'S ASCENT. 115 
 
 Balmat ; who has been sm-named " Mont 
 Blanc." 
 
 The illustrious Saussure attempted, imme- 
 diately afterwards, to follow the track of the 
 brave Balmat, and Dr Paccard. He set off for 
 la Cote (64), accompanied by 17 guides ; but 
 was driven back by bad weather. 
 
 The following year, 1787, Saussure, having 
 previously engaged Balmat to reconnoitre the 
 state of the ice, left Chamonix at 7 a. m., on 
 the 1st of August, with a servant and eighteen 
 guides (of whom Jacques Balmat was the 
 principal), provided with instruments, a tent, 
 a bed, ladders, ropes, provisions, straw, &c. 
 The party passed the night upon the moun- 
 tain of la Cote (64). The next day, at 4 p. i^r. 
 they reached the middle Plateau, — passing 
 there the second night, — and set forward again 
 the next morning. At 8 a. m. August 3, all Cha- 
 monix saw the party advancing towards the 
 last heights ; and all the bells in the village 
 were rung, when the summit was attained. 
 Madame de Saussure and her two sisters fol- 
 lowed the track of the naturalist, by means 
 of telescopes.
 
 116 BOURRIT'S LAST ATTEMPT, UNSUCCESSFUL. 
 
 M. Bourrit set off immediately, but bad 
 weather drove him back. 
 
 The following year, 1788, M. Bourrit made 
 yet another trial, with his son and Messrs 
 Woodley and Camj^er; the foraier English, 
 the latter Dutch. Woodley alone reached the 
 summit, but had both his hands and feet fro- 
 zen: this happened also to the fingers and 
 toes of others of the party. Thus, it appears 
 that Bourrit himself never attained the sum- 
 mit of the mountain ; though it would seem to 
 have been partly through his indefatigable 
 zeal, that Saussure was induced to persevere. 
 
 (X.) At page 82, a Ust is given of the suc- 
 cessful ascents. Saussure' s " Voyages dans 
 les Alpes" contain a minute account of the 
 natural history of the mountain, as well as of 
 his ascent, and experiments, performed on its 
 summit, and at the Col du Geant. Of the later 
 ascents, several narratives have been publish- 
 ed, viz. 
 
 " Fred. Clissold, Ascent, &c. Aug. 18. 1822 ; 
 with an Appendix upon the sensations expe- 
 rienced at great elevations. The profits of the
 
 NARRATIVES PUBLISHED. 117 
 
 sale to be applied to the benefit of the guides 
 of Chamouni. London : Rivingions, 1823." 
 I have read this narrative with the deepest 
 interest, but am sorry to say it is out of print. 
 The author and his guides slept on the Ro- 
 chers Rouges, 14,700 feet above the sea, and 
 within 1000 feet of the apex of the mountain ; 
 being, I presume, the highest point, — more 
 than 6000 feet, — at which a night is known 
 to have been passed above the snow-line. 
 
 Dr Clarke and Captain Sherwill each pub- 
 hshed an account of the ascent they together 
 made in 1825. They are highly interesting 
 narratives; but, I fear, both out of print. Cap- 
 tain Sherwill has published also a " brief his- 
 torical sketch of the valley of Chamouni. 
 Paris, 1832." 
 
 Auldjo's " Narrative of an ascent, &c. Aug. 
 9. 1827," is well known ; having deservedly 
 had a wide circulation. 
 
 Captain Wilbraham published, I believe, in 
 the " Keepsake" annual for 1832, an account 
 of his ascent in 1830.
 
 118 
 INDEX 
 
 TO THE 
 
 CHAIN OF MONT BLANC, 
 From the Summit of the Breven. 
 
 1 Aiguilles Rouges. 
 
 2 Chalet of La Fle'gere. 
 
 3 Chalets of La Charlanoz. 
 
 4 Chalets of Planprat. 
 
 6 Path from Planprat to the 
 Priory. 
 
 6 Les Escaliers. 
 
 7 Mountains of the northern 
 
 chain of the " Vallais." 
 
 8 Rocks at the Croix de 
 
 Fer. 
 
 9 The Col de Balme, 7551 
 
 feet.* 
 
 10 Chalets of Charamillan. 
 
 11 Village of Tour. 
 
 12 Aiguille du Tour. 
 
 13 Glacier du Tour. 
 
 14 AiguiUe du Chardonnct. 
 
 15 Aiguille d'Argentiere, 
 
 12,884 feet. 
 
 16 Glacier d'Argentiere. 
 
 17 Aiguille Verte. 
 
 , 18 Aiguille du Dru. 
 
 19 Aiguille du Moine. 
 
 20 Glacier du Nant Blanc. 
 
 21 Aiguille du Bocliard. 
 
 22 Le Chapeau. 
 
 23 Village of Lavanche. 
 
 24 Les Tines. 
 
 25 Village of Bois. 
 
 26 Village of Prats. 
 
 27 Source of the river Ar- 
 
 veiron. 
 
 28 Glacier des Bois. 
 
 29 Rocks called Des Mot- 
 
 tets. 
 
 30 The Mer de Glace. 
 
 31 The " Hospice" of Mon- 
 
 tanvert, 6100 feet. 
 
 32 Aiguilles de Lechand. 
 
 33 Aiguille de Charmoz, or 
 
 d'Entre-Ia-Porte. 
 
 34 Aiguilles des Grandes Jo- 
 
 rasses. 
 
 35 Aiguille du Greppond. 
 
 36 Aiguille de Blaitiere, or 
 
 du Plan. 
 
 37 Aiguille du Midi, 12,846 
 
 feet. 
 
 38 Glacier des Pelerins. 
 
 39 Glacier de Blaitiere. 
 
 40 Glacier du Greppond. 
 
 Above the level of the sea.
 
 INDEX TO THE CHAIN OF MONT BLANC. 119 
 
 41 Le Plan de I'Aiguille. 
 
 62 
 
 42 Upper Chalets of Blai- 
 
 63 
 
 tiere. 
 
 64 
 
 43 Chalets called " Sur le 
 
 65 
 
 Rocher." 
 
 66 
 
 44 Path on Montanvert. 
 
 
 46 Path of la Filia. 
 
 67 
 
 46 The Hamlet of Planaz. 
 
 68 
 
 47 Village of Mouilles. 
 
 69 
 
 48 The Priory or Town of 
 
 70 
 
 Chamonix, 3363 feet. 
 
 71 
 
 49 The river Arve. 
 
 72 
 
 60 Village of Favrans. 
 
 73 
 
 61 Village of Pelerins. 
 
 74 
 
 52 Cascade of Pelerins. 
 
 
 53 Bridge of Piralota. 
 
 
 54 ]\Iont Blanc du Tacul. 
 
 75 
 
 55 Aiguille Sans Nom. 
 
 76 
 
 56 Mont Blanc, 15,666 feet. 
 
 
 57 Dome du Goute. 
 
 77 
 
 58 Aiguille du Goute. 
 
 78 
 
 59 The Rochers Rouges. 
 
 
 60 The Grand Plateau. 
 
 79 
 
 61 The rocks called the 
 
 
 Grand and Petit Mu- 
 
 
 lct. 
 
 80 
 
 Glacier des Bossons. 
 Village of Bossons. 
 Mountain of La Cote. 
 Glacier de Taconnaz. 
 Mountain Des Feaux, or 
 
 of Taconnaz. 
 Mountain of La Gria. 
 Pierre Ronde. 
 Mont Lacha. 
 Aiguille de Bionassaj. 
 Mont Blanc St Gervais. 
 Glacier de Bionassaj. 
 Mountain of Tricot. 
 Aiguille de Rousselette, 
 
 on the Col du Bon- 
 
 homme. 
 Lake on the Breven. 
 The Pavilion of Bellevue, 
 
 above the Col de Voza. 
 Village of Molaz. 
 Route to the Grand Pla- 
 teau. 
 New track from the Grand 
 
 Plateau to the foot of 
 
 the last slope. 
 Old track.
 
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