Preface
In the year , shortly before leaving England for a long continental tour, a certain eminent London publisher requested me to make for him some sketches of the great Alpine peaks. At that time I had only a literary acquaintance with mountain-climbing, and had not even seen—much less set foot upon—a mountain. Amongst the peaks which were upon the list was Mont Pelvoux, in Dauphiné. The sketches that were required of it were to celebrate the triumph of some Englishmen who intended to make its ascent. They came—they saw—but they did not conquer. By a mere chance I fell in with a very agreeable Frenchman who accompanied this party, and was pressed by him to return to the assault. In we did so, with my friend Macdonald—and we conquered. This was the origin of my Scrambles amongst the Alps.
The ascent of Mont Pelvoux (including the disagreeables) was a very delightful scramble. The mountain air did not act as an emetic; the sky did not look black, instead of blue; nor did I feel tempted to throw myself over precipices. I hastened to enlarge my experience, and went to the Matterhorn. I was urged towards Mont Pelvoux by those mysterious impulses which cause men to peer into the unknown. This mountain was reputed to be the highest in France, and on that account was worthy of attention; and it was believed to be the culminating point of a picturesque district of great interest, which was then almost unexplored! The Matterhorn attracted me simply by its grandeur. It was considered to be the most completely inaccessible of all mountains, even by those who ought to have known better. Stimulated to make fresh exertions by one repulse after another, I returned, year after year, as I had opportunity, more and more determined to find a way up it, or to prove it to be really inaccessible.
A considerable portion of this volume is occupied by the history of these attacks on the Matterhorn, and the other excursions that are described have generally some connection, more or less remote, with that mountain or with Mont Pelvoux. All are new excursions (that is, excursions made for the first time), unless the contrary is pointed out. Some have been passed over very briefly, and entire ascents or descents have been disposed of in a single line. If they had been worked out at full length, three volumes, instead of one, would have been required. Generally speaking, the salient points alone have been dwelt upon, and the rest has been left to the imagination. This treatment spares the reader from much useless repetition.
In endeavouring to make the book of some use to those who may wish to go mountain-scrambling, whether in the Alps or elsewhere, undue prominence, perhaps, has been given to our mistakes and failures; and it will doubtless be pointed out that our practice must have been bad if the principles which are laid down are sound, or that the principles must be unsound if the practice was good. We were not immaculate. Our blunders are not held up to be admired, or to be imitated, but to be avoided.
These Scrambles amongst the Alps were holiday excursions, and as such they should be judged. They are spoken of as sport, and nothing more. The pleasure that they gave me cannot be transferred to others. The ablest pens have failed, and I think must always fail, to give a true idea of the grandeur of the Alps. The most minute descriptions of the greatest writers do nothing more than convey impressions that are entirely erroneous—the reader conjures up visions, it may be magnificent ones, but they are infinitely inferior to the reality. I have dealt sparingly in descriptions, and have employed illustrations freely, in the hope that the pencil may perhaps succeed where the pen must inevitably have failed.
About fifty of the subjects were drawn on the wood by the late Mr. James Mahoney, and I am much indebted to that artist for the care and fidelity with which he followed my slight memoranda, and for the spirit he put into his admirable designs. Most of his drawings will be identified by his monogram. Twenty of the remainder are the work of Mr. Cyrus Johnson.
It is now my pleasant duty to acknowledge assistance rendered, directly or indirectly, by friends and strangers, at home and abroad. First of all, my thanks are due to my companions for having placed their journals and sketches freely at my disposal. I am particularly obliged to Mr. J. Longridge, to Mr. T. F. Mitchell, and to Mr. W. Cutbill, for the facilities that they granted me when examining the Fell railway in . From Prof. T. G. Bonney, F.R.S., and Mr. Robert H. Scott, F.R.S., I have received many friendly hints and much valued criticism; and aid, in a variety of ways, from Mr. Budden, Prof. Gastaldi, and Sig. Giordano, in Italy; from M. Emile Templier and the Maréchal Canrobert, in France; and from Mr. Gosset of Berne. I am indebted to the Messrs. Longman for the use of a portion of their Map of the Western Alps. The other Maps are original.