Part 8 (1/2)
I know what my friend meant. Croz was happiest when he was employing his powers to the utmost. Places where you and I would ”toil and sweat, and yet be freezing cold,” were bagatelles to him, and it was only when he got above the range of ordinary mortals, and was required to employ his magnificent strength, and to draw upon his unsurpa.s.sed knowledge of ice and snow, that he could be said to be really and truly happy.
Of all the guides with whom I travelled, Michel Croz was the man who was most after my own heart. He did not work like a blunt razor, and take to his toil unkindly. He did not need urging, or to be told a second time to do anything. You had but to say _what_ was to be done, and _how_ it was to be done, and the work _was_ done, if it was possible. Such men are not common, and when they are known they are valued. Michel was not widely known, but those who did know him employed him again and again. The inscription that is placed upon his tomb truthfully records that he was ”beloved by his comrades and esteemed by travellers.”
At the time that I was planning my journey, my friends Messrs. A. W. Moore and Horace Walker were also drawing up their programme; and, as we found that our wishes were very similar, we agreed to unite our respective parties. The excursions which are described in this and the two following chapters are mutual ideas which were jointly executed.
Our united programme was framed so as to avoid sleeping in inns, and so that we should see from the highest point attained on one day a considerable portion of the route which was intended to be followed on the next. This latter matter was an important one to us, as all of our projected excursions were new ones, and led over ground about which there was very little information in print.
My friends had happily secured Christian Almer of Grindelwald as their guide. The combination of Croz and Almer was a perfect one. Both men were in the prime of life;(91) both were endued with strength and activity far beyond the average; and the courage and the knowledge of each was alike undoubted. The temper of Almer it was impossible to ruffle; he was ever obliging and enduring,-a bold but a safe man. That which he lacked in fire-in dash-was supplied by Croz, who, in his turn, was kept in place by Almer. It is pleasant to remember how they worked together, and how each one confided to you that he liked the other so much because he worked so well; but it is sad, very sad, to those who have known the men, to know that they can never work together again.
We met at St. Michel on the Mont Cenis road, at midday on June 20, 1864, and proceeded in the afternoon over the Col de Valloires to the village of the same name. The summit of this pretty little pa.s.s is about 3500 feet above St. Michel, and from it we had a fair view of the Aiguilles d'Arve, a group of three peaks of singular form, which it was our especial object to investigate.(92) They had been seen by ourselves and others from numerous distant points, and always looked very high and very inaccessible; but we had been unable to obtain any information about them, except the few words in Joanne's _Itineraire du Dauphine_. Having made out from the summit of the Col de Valloires that they could be approached from the Valley of Valloires, we hastened down to find a place where we could pa.s.s the night, as near as possible to the entrance of the little valley leading up to them.
By nightfall we arrived at the entrance to this little valley (Vallon des Aiguilles d'Arve), and found some buildings placed just where they were wanted. The proprietress received us with civility, and placed a large barn at our disposal, on the conditions that no lights were struck or pipes smoked therein; and when her terms were agreed to, she took us into her own chalet, made up a huge fire, heated a gallon of milk, and treated us with genuine hospitality.
In the morning we found that the Vallon des Aiguilles d'Arve led away nearly due west from the Valley of Valloires, and that the village of Bonnenuit was placed (in the latter valley) almost exactly opposite to the junction of the two.
At 3.55 A.M. on the 21st we set out up the Vallon, pa.s.sed for a time over pasture-land, and then over a stony waste, deeply channelled by watercourses. At 5.30 the two princ.i.p.al Aiguilles were well seen, and as, by this time, it was evident that the authors of the Sardinian official map had romanced as extensively in this neighbourhood as elsewhere, it was necessary to hold a council.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Plan to show route]
Three questions were submitted to it:-Firstly, Which is the highest of these Aiguilles? Secondly, Which shall we go up? Thirdly, How is it to be done?
The French engineers, it was said, had determined that the two highest of them were respectively 11,513 and 11,529 feet in height; but we were without information as to which two they had measured.(93) Joanne indeed said (but without specifying whether he meant all three) that the Aiguilles had been several times ascended, and particularly mentioned that the one of 11,513 feet was ”relatively easy.”
We therefore said, ”We will go up the peak of 11,529 feet.” That determination did not settle the second question. Joanne's ”relatively easy” peak, according to his description, was evidently the most northern of the three. _Our_ peak then was to be one of the other two;-but which of them? We were inclined to favour the central one; but it was hard to determine, they looked so equal in height. When, however, the council came to study the third question-”How is it to be done?” it was unanimously voted that upon the eastern and southern sides it was certainly ”relatively” difficult, and that a move should be made round to the northern side.
The movement was duly executed, and after wading up some snow-slopes of considerable steepness (going occasionally beyond 40), we found ourselves in a gap or nick, between the central and northernmost Aiguille, at 8.45 A.M. We then studied the northern face of our intended peak, and finally arrived at the conclusion that it was ”relatively” impracticable. Croz shrugged his big shoulders, and said, ”My faith! I think you will do well to leave it to others.” Almer was more explicit, and volunteered the information that a thousand francs would not tempt him to _try_ it. We then turned to the northernmost peak, but found its southern faces even more hopeless than the northern faces of the central one. We enjoyed accordingly the unwonted luxury of a three-hours' rest on the top of our pa.s.s; for pa.s.s we were determined it should be.
We might have done worse. We were 10,300 or 10,400 feet above the level of the sea, and commanded a most picturesque view of the mountains of the Tarentaise; while, somewhat east of south, we saw the monarch of the Dauphine _ma.s.sif_, whose closer acquaintance it was our intention to make.
Three sunny hours pa.s.sed away, and then we turned to the descent. We saw the distant pastures of a valley (which we supposed was the Vallon or Ravine de la Sausse), and a long snow-slope leading down to them. But from that slope we were cut off by precipitous rocks, and our first impression was that we should have to return in our track. Some running up and down, however, discovered two little gullies, filled with threads of snow, and down the most northern of these we decided to go. It was a steep way but a safe one, for the cleft was so narrow that we could press the shoulder against one side whilst the feet were against the other, and the last remnant of the winter's snow, well hardened, clung to the rift with great tenacity, and gave us a path when the rocks refused one. In half-an-hour we got to the top of the great snow-slope. Walker said-”Let us glissade;”
the guides-”No, it is too steep.” Our friend, however, started off at a standing glissade, and advanced for a time very skilfully; but after a while he lost his balance, and progressed downwards and backwards with great rapidity, in a way that seemed to us very much like tumbling head over heels. He let go his axe, and left it behind, but it overtook him and batted him heartily. He and it travelled in this fas.h.i.+on for some hundreds of feet, and at last subsided into the rocks at the bottom. In a few moments we were rea.s.sured as to his safety, by hearing him ironically request us not to keep him waiting down there.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE AIGUILLES D'ARVE, FROM ABOVE THE CHALETS OF RIEU BLANC, SHOWING ROUTE.]
We others followed the track shown by the dotted line upon the engraving (making zigzags to avoid the little groups of rocks which jutted through the snow, by which Walker had been upset), descended by a _sitting_ glissade, and rejoined our friend at the bottom. We then turned sharply to the left, and tramped down the summit ridge of an old moraine of great size. Its mud was excessively hard, and where some large erratic blocks lay perched upon its crest, we were obliged to cut steps (in the mud) with our ice-axes.
Guided by the sound of a distant ”moo,” we speedily found the highest chalets in the valley, named Rieu Blanc. They were tenanted by three old women (who seemed to belong to one of the missing links sought by naturalists), dest.i.tute of all ideas except in regard to cows, and who spoke a barbarous patois, well-nigh unintelligible to the Savoyard Croz.
They would not believe that we had pa.s.sed between the Aiguilles,-”It is impossible, the _cows_ never go there.” ”Could we get to La Grave over yonder ridge?” ”Oh yes! the _cows_ often crossed!” Could they show us the way? No; but we could follow the _cow_-tracks.
We stayed a while near these chalets, to examine the western sides of the Aiguilles d'Arve, and, according to our united opinion, the central one was as inaccessible from this direction as from the east, north, or south.
On the following day we saw them again, from a height of about 11,000 feet, in a south-easterly direction, and our opinion remained unchanged.
We saw (on June 20-22) the central Aiguille from all sides, and very nearly completely round the southernmost one. The northern one we also saw on all sides excepting from the north. (It is, however, precisely from this direction M. Joanne says that its ascent is relatively easy.) We do not, therefore, venture to express any opinion respecting its ascent, except as regards its actual summit. This is formed of two curious p.r.o.ngs, or pinnacles of rock, and we do not understand in what way they (or either of them) can be ascended; nor shall we be surprised if this ascent is discovered to have been made in spirit rather than body; in fact, in the same manner as the celebrated ascent of Mont Blanc, ”not entirely to the summit, but as far as the Montanvert!”
All three of the Aiguilles _may_ be accessible, but they _look_ as inaccessible as anything I have seen. They are the highest summits between the valleys of the Romanche and the Arc; they are placed slightly to the north of the watershed between those two valleys, and a line drawn through them runs, pretty nearly, north and south.
We descended by a rough path from Rieu Blanc to the chalets of La Sausse, which give the name to the Vallon or Ravine de la Sausse, in which they are situated. This is one of the numerous branches of the valley that descends to St. Jean d'Arve, and subsequently to St. Jean de Maurienne.
Two pa.s.ses, more or less known, lead from this valley to the village of La Grave (on the Lautaret road) in the valley of the Romanche, viz.:-the Col de l'Infernet and the Col de Martignare. The former pa.s.s was crossed, many years ago, by J. D. Forbes, and was mentioned by him in his _Norway and its Glaciers_. The latter one lies to the north of the former, and is seldom traversed by tourists, but it was convenient for us, and we set out to cross it on the morning of the 22d, after having pa.s.sed a comfortable, but not luxurious, night in the hay, at La Sausse, where, however, the simplicity of the accommodation was more than counterbalanced by the civility and hospitality of the people in charge.(94)
[Our object now was to cross to La Grave (on the high road from Gren.o.ble to Briancon), and to ascend, _en route_, some point sufficiently high to give us a good view of the Dauphine Alps in general, and of the grand chain of the Meije in particular. Before leaving England a careful study of ”Joanne” had elicited the fact that the shortest route from La Sausse to La Grave was by the Col de Martignare; and also that from the aforesaid Col it was possible to ascend a lofty summit, called by him the Bec-du-Grenier, also called Aiguille de Goleon. On referring, however, to the Sardinian survey, we found there depicted, to the east of the Col de Martignare, not _one_ peak bearing the above _two_ names, but _two distinct summits_; one-just above the Col-the Bec-du-Grenier (the height of which was not stated); the other, still farther to the east, and somewhat to the south of the watershed-the Aiguille du Goleon (11,250 English feet in height), with a very considerable glacier-the Glacier Lombard-between the two. On the French map,(95) on the other hand, neither of the above names was to be found, but a peak called Aiguille de la Sausse (10,897 feet), was placed in the position a.s.signed to the Bec-du-Grenier in the Sardinian map; while farther to the east was a second and nameless peak (10,841), not at all in the position given to the Aiguille du Goleon, of which and of the Glacier Lombard there was not a sign. All this was very puzzling and unsatisfactory; but as we had no doubt of being able to climb one of the points to the east of the Col de Martignare (which overhung the Ravine de la Sausse), we determined to make that col the basis of our operations.](96)