STORY OF ALPINE ADVENTURE

Press, Volume L, Issue 8593, 21 September 1893, Page 2

STORY OF ALPINE ADVENTURE

Westminster Gazette

The Grave of Richard Lewi3 Nettleship, ac Chamoulx, by which lam standing, ia a simple grey granite Latin cross on three step 3, aud a kerbing of the same granite encloses the grave. Two guides, well known and held in high esteem in the village, are with mc. The name of one is Alfred Coute, the name of the other Gaspard Simon. They are sad as men can be, for this grave is the grave of a friend— a friend for whom they would willingly have given their lives, for whom, indeed, they did jeopardise their lives onto the death. Oα the step immediately beneath the cross are cut the words:— KiciTAttD Lewis Fellow and Tutor of Balliol College, Oxford. On the step beneath this again, runs the inscription:— Bora December 13,1817, Died on Moat Blanc, Augnet 23, 1592. " He mafceta the storm a calm." Here as we stand, Alfred (Jonte, shading his eyes from the sun glare, can point mc out the Aiguille da GcmLer, where at two o'clock on 24th August they started for the Cabane dee Bosses by way of the Dome Hence we may see that tiny speck beneath " the Dromedary's humps " which was the fatal lure. I say fatal advisedly, for experienced Alpine climbers are of opinion that since that hut has been erected there has been added a great temptation to the guides to press on, when, but for its presence they would assuredly turn back to the shelter at the '' Grands Mulcts."

Hence, too, as we gaze we may see the peaks Nettleship climbed in his fortnight"s sojourn here last August to fib himself for the Mont Blauc asceut.

" The first climb he toot," says Alfred, "was Fioria yonder, the second Mont Blanc de TaCul, the third the Aigui.Ho de Charraoz, the fourth the Aiguille dv Moine, aad the lasc was yonder Aiguille, the Aiguille de Gouter, when he was en route for Monfc Blanc summit by way of the DC)me. He would not be concent with the simple ascent oUMont Blanc; he said he wishedf orsomething alitLle more out of the common, and so he decided to go up Belle■"ue, and ascend the Aiguille de Gouter, theuce pass by the Dome to the Cabane dee Bosses, and the next day we were to ascend Mont Blanc." " Was he in good training ? " "Yes, excellent. Most gentlemen will let you helD them a good deal with the rope at the last part of the climb up the Aiguille de Charmoz—a stiff bit of rock work—but he refused all such help. ' Lee mc do as a guide would do,' he said. That was his idea; he would go out during our days of rest at Montanvert on to the Mer de Glace aud practise with his ice axe, determined to be a guide himself. And I remember his: pleasure when he gained the summit of 'Charmoz.' He reached out his hand to mc and asked mc how old I was. frep^ed,'Forty-five.' Ha said, 'It is "my' age. yours, Gaspard 2* ' Forty-seven ?1 said, sic, and we all ahook hands. And I remember, top, bow he said,' Ibis beautiful, but it ia too fine and calm. J want to see a stom' I wane to be iv a storm upon these Alaa, sir, he too soon had his wish fulfilled." " Then you think," 1 said." fchab he was, as far as strength went, quite lit for that long two days' expedition ?" "lam sure of it," said Gaspard. "And well clothed?" " Yes, quite well clad; hie vest and clothes were as warm as any climbers wear them, and we carried a change for him. Hβ was in excellent spirits also. He kept saying that he was sorry it was to be our last climb together, and he arranged what peaks we should try next year. I only saw him oub of spirits once, and that was when we were forced to turn back from the rock face of the Aiguille dv Moine; he seemed disappointed, for what he set out to do he wished to accomplish." " And you say he was in good spirits ?" " Yes, always, I think, though when we were in the valley he was usually silent, but as soon a3 we got up into the high air he seemed to be another person, so joyous and full of song and calk; but though he talked with us he did not talk much with the gentlemen down below, and would prefer to go out with his book alone to study, or with his ice-axe to practise. ' I mean to be a guide,' he said; and he treated us just like brothers—si gentil; si amiable." _ "1 remember once, said Gaspard, "I called back to Coate to lend mc his pipe— I had lost mine in the climb—and Monsieur at once said, 'Take mine; we are all guides together.'" "Aud," said I, "where did you begin your last ascent; from? " "From yonder hotel on the sky line there, Hotel Bellevue. "We walked up there in the cool of the evening of August; 24th, and had a good night's rest," and as he spoke he pointed to what looked like a little hut, but was really a good-sized hotel on the hill that seemed to close the valley to the south away beyond the Glacier dcs Bossons. "The weather was fine, and we made aa easy ascent of the Aiguille de Gouter, and lunched at the but there, but found it full of enow. It was two o'clock when we left it, and there was not a speck in the sky. Jb was as fine as it is to-day, and as I «azed up at the shining Aiguille and lustrous Dome I could have hardly persuaded myself that there had ever been a storm upon that silver 'shining mountain slope. We started for the Cabane, and were going along uiider the Dome, when quite suddenly clouds boil 3d over from the Italian side, and the storm burst upon us. lb was so sudden, so violent, we felt it could not last."

** But," said I, " you sorely should have retraced your steps ? " •• We would gladly have done so, but we ■were covered with thick darkness, looked for our track, but it was hid. So thick was the ieurmente that everything was hid from sight.""Why, then, did you not at once dig a cave and shelter? , " "Wβ felt," said Conte, •* that it we went in the direction we were then advancing upon we might perhaps pa«s from under or out o£ the storm. We thought it could not continue with such fierceness; whilst there was daylight, we thought it best to move on, on the chance of a break in the cloud, and a sight of our whereabouts. ,^ " Bat the bitterness of that storm, I said, "must have been great f •• Do not speak of it. Our garments were all suddenly made quite hard, you might have broken them; our beards covered wilb ice, and the leg of rauttoa we carried beeaine like stone. When we tried in the night to cut it we could not, and even with the ice axe we could only chip a fewflakes off it. When I reached Charaounix, fifty hours after, my pockefchandkerchief was jose a lump of ice. " What matte you then determine at last to dig a cave for shelter f* *' The night was coining on, we were ail much exhausted. 16 was Gaspard's thought. He had been coming once over the Col de Geaut and found a hole in the ice just the shaoa of a man's body. When he descended, "he learned that a friend overtaken in a storm had dag this ice hole and rested there through the night, and his friend had told him how warm it was. So we set to work to dig a cave, and very hard work we found it, for we only had ice axes, and were obliged to scoop out the snow with our hand* and feet, and the whirling blast filled it; Almost as fast at we emptied ic." "DidMrKettleahip help?" , " Oh, yes. I had said to him, ' Do not tire yourself thus in oar work, , bat he eaid, ' No, it will help to keep mc warm. . We dog it joat large enough for Uβ to lie

on our sides close together, our lega outside. And then crouching into it, we let the snow cover us up." " Did you think you would ever leave it alive r ■ ' ■ : "No," said Alfred eadly. "I placed my . ice axe up above ua in the snow, and said iaeaioisto Gaspard, 'They will find oar bodies by this mark.' " •* Was ie warm V I asked, " inside the ice cave ?" " Yes, quito beyond all expectation. Our clothes melted and became weC with the heat. We each slept alittla and smoked a little, and Monsieur (pointing to the grave) was quite gay hearted ; asked us to .■sing. We had no voice nor heart; we were thinking of some in. the valley we should not see more; but we spoke not of this, and said, *We have no voice; sing to us, sir,* and he sanj? merrily. He seem aware of the dauger ; I think he enjoyed it. and meant to tell all his Irrends about it after." " Did you take food V I said. " No, sir, we could not eat, for the mutton was like stone, and the storm seemed to take away all wish to eat; the air, too, was very stifling, and we were much cramped." "What was the worst part of that ni«ht ?" I said. " I think," replied the guide, " the noiso and humming of the storm ; it was terrible all the time. We looked out at six, but it Tvas still thick storm. Then Mr Nettleship said, 'Let us not die here like cowards. , I think he begau to feel that it was not well to remain any longer; perhaps he felt ill, but I cannot say. Gaapard counselled to stay where we were till midday, on a chanes of a clearing. I felt that if we could go downward in safety we might have better chance of getting a break iv the cloud. But I would have stayed on, though I feit hopeless of the tourmente ending, had it not been that Mr Nettleship seemed very urgent, and pushing aside the wail of snow, said, 'Come, let us be going.' He seemed so strong then that Gaspard said iv patois to uir, * lie is the strongest; we two shall die first.'"

" And was it, then, so thick ?" "Horrible," replied the guide. "We could not see one another at all, though we weie roped together. Yet the worst was the cold. Our garments had been all melted and moist when we were in the ice cave, then suddenly the cold wind struck upon them, and in a moment we were shaking all over like this," and as he spoke he showed mc in a graphic way how terribly they must have been made to shiver by the cruel blast. " Ah, who can know what that cold was ! Our watches were frozen in our pockets, our trousers became like pipes of ice, we *carco could hold our ics axes for shaking, and we went very slowly, sounding all the way, fearing precipice or crevasse, and cut to the bone by the cold."

*' Bnt did not Mr Nettleship say anything?"

" Yes, after ten minutes he said he coald not go further. I thought he was feeliug stiff from the cramping in the grotto, aud he said no more."

" Why did you not at once return to the ice cave?" I said.

"Sir, we could not have found it, and if we had found it we could noo have scooped the snow out, so exhausted were we by the fierce cold. Aud so we slowly went forward till, about thirty minutes after, I who was last, felt a tug on the rope, and thought, ' They have surely fallen over a precipice,' and I threw myself with all force back upon the rope, and heard Gaspard call. Then I learnt it was our friend who had fallen forward on the snow. Gaspard had propped him up when I reached them. I had a little wine unfrozen ; it was the last drop. I put it to his lips and said, ' Courage, sir, drink this.' He waved it away, put his hand to his head as if he either felt that he was fainting, or that he felt ill there. Then he stretched out his arms and hands, and, as it seemed to us, said some prayer in English, and we said, 'Adieu, sir, we shall soon be with you again,' and, closing his eyes, he just leant back hia head and was gone—painlessly, it seemed, and in a moment. It was a bitter grief. Gaspard sat by his body and said, ' Coate, I cannot go further, I will die beside him.' I urged hiiu, saying, * No, while we have life, let us strive. . So, leaving the ice axe there to mark the spot, we moved on battling with the storm. After one hour we found ourselves back again close to his body, not covered with snow—the wind was too fierce for that—but lying as one who sleeps. We thought, 'God wills that we. too, sleep beside him." But just then, for one half minute, the cloud lifted, we saw the Cabane dee Bosses, and without turning head right or left we toiled on with new courage, and after four hours were at the hut. There was no lamp there, nor any-food, but we piled all the coverings above tie, and lay down. For two hours we shook still, as if w.ith palsy, bo deadly was the cold; but towards morning we regained our bodies' heat, and the pain of regaining it was great. Ah, sir 1 how many times in that lasttrudge did we not envy the good friend who had without pain entered rest I I£ I were the mother of this gentleman, I could rejoice he did not suffer what we suffered then. Famished, exhausted, quite ignorant of where the next step would take us—and then the cruel cold! It is nearly a year since then, and still I dream of the horror of that fierce battle with the iourmente on the Dome." He spoke with considerable earnestness, and deliberation. "I have a wife and child, bud could willingly have died." "But," I said, "you arc well ?" "Yes, thank God, lam strong; I was well again in a week; but Gaspard has only lately recovered circulation in one of his feet. He was ill all through the winter, and we have suffered in other ways. The men who do ' the small courses' taunt us, and say, 'Why did you not die with youv master?' Only the men who do ' the great courses ' are silent and are sorry for us. They know how unforseeable was that storm, how unpreventable this misfortune. Then some o£ the papers blamed us—spoke of us as ignorant guides. "We do not wish to boaet, bub we know Mont Blanc well. Gaspard has made forty-nine ascent*, and I have ascended it sixty-one times; there are few peaks in the Oberland that we have not ascended also, and this is the only mishap that has befallen us."

"Bub what did you do in the morning at the Cabane dcs Bosses? lou were famished, you were exhausted ? " " We went back to where Mr Nettleship's body was, that we might be able to tell correctly of its whereabouts; and then we descended to the Grands Mulcts,"

" Pitiable objects you must; have been ? " "Yes; the woman who cooks there, when she saw as, burst into tears. There Gaspard remained, to guide the search party to the Dome, and when I was rested enough I came down to Chamounix to bring the news and send help." " But," said I, ** what was it that killed Mr Nettleship ? You Bay he was strongest of the three when you issued from the ice cave." "Ifc is my conviction, aaid Gaspard solemnly, " that God had said,' Thus far shall thou go, and no further.'" "And what did the doctors sayl" I replied. " They said, I think, that the cold mneS have struck paralysis to the brain, and so stopped the heart's action. Ah, God! my wonder is that any mortal man should have been able to stand against that cold. Why he should have been taken, and we be left, this is beyond us." "But," aaid Conte, "for his mother's sake, and for you his friends, let alone the friendship he has inspired us with, we would gladly have given our lives for his. And my one regret now is, that ere we lef c the ice grotto he did not leave a message or write a word as to what his wishes had been, and how we had come into such anlooked lor peril. It is a great loss, as we hear, to England and Oxford; he was from all accounts, so good a scholar. "We knew nothing of this, he never talked about himself. It is a great loss to us. We felt he was morb than a mere climbing gentleman. Wβ looked upon him as a friend."

There was a quiet dignity about Alfred Conte's way, and solemnity about Gaspard Simon's manner of speech, as we stood there by Nettleship's grave, that made one feel assured that these men were in feeling gentlemen. I saw them after in their own homes. They dined table d'hote with us, and impressed all with their sterling worth, their intelligence, and their gentle quiet manners.

Bat a» one talked one realised wbafc they had suffered in body, perhaps would suffer still in name; and it was therefore not without much satisfaction that one found that the oldest guides in Chambunix were unanimous in their assertion that these men were thoroughly competent and careful guides, that the accident was unloraeeable, and that all, that in their judgment could have been done, was done. How sudden was the storm may be judged by the fact that two other parties had started to ascend Mont Blanc that same day, bat were turned back' by the cnange of the weather. - ' : ,"• Nor was one able to help wishinor that, for their aakes. the founders of a " Nettleship Memorial ,, in Eugland should consider whether something could not be done to prevent guides from perishing, as these nearly perwhed, * c *° c C&bane de Bosses, from the inability to obtain any food or fire when they had at last reached

a hut of refuge. Why should there not be a small chest of necessaries?, a little cognac, tinned soup, tea, coffee, biscuits, lamps, matches, oil, spirits of wine, &c., under lock and key, or with bolt under a glass panel, only to be used In case of extreme urgency .suchusetobe reported? Tho guides of the grands courses to be provided through the Chef de Guides with instruction and means of use of-'such chest, such chest co ba reported on, and have its provisions replaced each spring. I heard at Chamoumx i;hao if at the Cabane dcs Bosses, Roche* Rouges, and ths Col de Geant such a little * life savins* '* chest were pUced under proper authority it might be of the greatest possible service in emergency; and the Zermatt guides asserted that the scheme was both benevolent and feasible. The French Alpine Club might be approached upon the subject. Their prime cost would not be great. Perhaps Alpine climbers would not mind some very small additional tax to their fee 3 for the accent towards their maintenance. Could Nettleship desire a better, more helpful memorial there upon the mountains of his sleep i