A second slip of the Diablerets took place in 1749, and though none of the inhabitants of the country lost their lives, it proved fatal to five citizens of Berne, who were in the neighbourhood on business; and who, though warned to fly when the subterranean noise was first heard, disregarded the admonition, and were buried alive; the house in which they were, being supposed to be buried 500 feet below the present surface.
The most remarkable mountain-slip in Switzerland, was, however, that which took place in 1806, by which the Vale of Goldau, above three miles in extent, and five villages with their inhabitants were engulfed. The Vale lay between two mountains, one of which was called Mount Ruffi, or the Rosenberg, and the other Mount Righi. More than fifty years before the catastrophe, rents had been gradually forming in the Rosenberg; and in 1806, a very great quantity of rain fell in the months of July and August. On the morning of the second of September, most extraordinary noises were heard proceeding from the interior of the mountain, which gave an idea of the groaning of an imprisoned giant. About five o'clock in the afternoon, some masses of rock came rolling down the side of the mountain; these were followed by some larger pieces, which fell with a loud crash, and immediately afterwards, some persons who were in a house on the side of Mount Righi, about 300 feet above the valley, saw a large horizontal rent appear in the opposite mountain, and the whole summit, above the rent, began to move, with all its forests and houses, and slowly to descend. In a few seconds, the velocity increased, and then the enormous mass rushed down with frightful rapidity and fell with a tremendous crash. Immense clouds of dust, which obscured every thing, rose from the ruins; and in the midst of a thick darkness, a torrent of stones, as if thrown by invisible hands from below, assailed the house in which the observers stood, and amongst these were many large fragments, several hundred pounds in weight. Thus, "in five minutes for the whole catastrophe did not take up more time the beautiful and well cultivated Vale of Goldau, with its fields, orchards, and pastures, was converted into a waste," and the greater part of the Lake of Lowerz was filled up. Four hundred and eighty-four persons lost their lives, and a great number of sheep and cattle were killed. The loss of property, at the lowest estimate, exceeded £90,000; but the desolation which was produced exceeds all calculation. A small chapel has been built on the spot where the Vale of Goldau once stood; and in this chapel the pious Swiss annually meet on the second of September to pray to God to preserve them from a repetition of such a frightful calamity.
ASCENT OF MONT BLANC.
The summit of Mont Blanc is a ridge, nearly horizontal, lying east and west. The slope at each extremity is inclined from twenty-eight to thirty degrees: the slope on the south side being much less than that on the north. The ridge is so narrow, as scarcely to allow two people to walk abreast, especially at the west end, where it resembles the roof of a house. It is wholly covered with snow, nor are any bare rocks to be seen within 150 yards of the top. The surface of the snow is scaly, and, in some places, covered with an icy crust, under which the snow itself is dusty, and without consistence. There are five glaciers, which extend almost to the plain of the Vale of Chamouni, and are separated by wild forests, corn fields, and rich meadows, so that immense tracts of ice are blended with the highest cultivation, and perpetually succeed to each other, in the most singular and striking vicissitude. All these several valleys of ice, which lie chiefly in the hollows of the mountains, and are some leagues in length, unite together at the foot of Mont Blanc. One of the peculiarities of this mountain is, that besides the principal summit, there are numerous steep rocks which rise from it, and which, from their resemblance to pyramids or steeples, are called needles; some of which are quite bare, as they are too steep for any snow to rest upon them, as, for example, those called the Grand and Petit Mulets. These bare black rocks have a most striking effect contrasted with the immense masses of snow which surround them, and which spread over an extent of country of about 600 square miles, or twice the area of the county of Middlesex, only intersected by a few narrow valleys which are so depressed as not to catch the eye.
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The summit of this mountain was deemed inaccessible before Dr. Paccard, a physician of Chamouni, reached it, in August, 1786. Soon after, it was again successfully attempted by M. de Saussure, and it has been several times accomplished since. The following is an abridgement of one of the accounts which have been published of the ascent of this mountain.
"Although it is scarcely six miles and three-quarters in a straight line from the priory of Chamouni to the top of Mont Blanc, it requires, nevertheless, eighteen hours to gain the summit, owing to the bad roads, the windings, and the great perpendicular height of the mountain. To the priory the journey was free from danger, or even difficulty; the road being either rocky or covered with grass; but thence, upwards, it was wholly covered with snow, or consisted of the most slippery ice. The ice-valley on the side of the hill must be passed, in order to gain the foot of the chain of rocks bordering on the perpetual snows which cover Mont Blanc. The passage through this valley is extremely dangerous, since it is intersected with numerous wide, deep, and irregular chasms, which can only be crossed by means of bridges, naturally formed of frozen snow, or of fallen trees, and these, often very slender, extended, as it were, over an abyss, are liable to break. The difficulties the party had to encounter in this valley, and the winding road they were obliged to take through it, occasioned them to be more than three hours in crossing it, although in a straight line, its breadth is not above three-quarters of a mile.
"After having reached the rocks, they mounted in a serpentine direction to a valley filled with snow, which runs from north to south, to the foot of the highest pinnacle. The surface of the snow in this valley has numerous fissures, and when it is broken perpendicularly, it affords an opportunity of observing the successive horizontal layers of snow, which are annually formed.
"The party passed the night at a height of 3,100 yards above the priory of Chamouni, and 4,250 yards above the level of the sea, which is 200 yards higher than the Peak of Teneriffe. They dug a deep hole in the snow, sufficiently wide to contain the whole company, and covered its top with the tent cloth. In making this encampment, they began to experience the effects of the rarity of the atmosphere. Robust men, to whom seven or eight hours' walking, or rather climbing, were an absolute nothing, had scarcely raised five or six shovels full of snow before they were under the necessity of resting and relieving each other almost incessantly. One of them had gone back a short distance to fill a cask with some water, which he had seen in one of the crevices of the snow, but found himself so disordered in his way, that he returned without the water, and passed the night in great pain. The principal inconvenience which the rarity of the air produces, is an excessive thirst. The travellers had no means of procuring water but by melting the snow, and the little store which they had carried with them afforded but a feeble supply for twenty men."
This region of the mountain presents to the view nothing but snow of the purest and most dazzling whiteness, forming a very singular contrast with the sky, which appears remarkably black. "No living creature," says our author, "is to be seen in these desolate regions, nor is the least trace of vegetation to be discovered. It is the habitation of cold and silence. I was frequently obliged, in the course of the night, to go out of my tent to relieve my breathing. The moon shone with the brightest splendour, in the midst of a sky, black as ebony. Jupiter, rayed like the sun, arose from behind the mountains of the east. The light of these luminaries was reflected from the white plain, or rather basin, in which we were situated, and, dazzling, eclipsed every star, except those of the first and second magnitude. At length we composed ourselves to sleep. We were, however, soon awakened by the noise of an immense mass of snow, an avalanche, which had fallen down from the top of the mountain, and covered part of the slope over which we were to climb the next day.
"We began our ascent to the third and last plain, and then turned on our left in our way to the highest rock, which is on the east part of the summit. The ascent is here very steep, being about thirty-nine degrees inclined to the horizon, and bounded on each side by precipices. The surface of the snow was so hard and slippery, that our pioneers were obliged to hew out their footsteps with hatchets. Thus we were two hours in climbing a hill only about 530 yards high. Having arrived at this last rock, we turned to the westward, and climbed the last ascent, whose height is about 300 yards, and its inclination above twenty-eight or twenty-nine degrees. On this peak the atmosphere is so rare that a man's strength is exhausted with the least fatigue. When we came near the top, I could not walk fifteen or sixteen steps without stopping to take breath, and I frequently perceived myself so faint that I was under the necessity of sitting down from time to time, but in proportion as I recovered my breath, I felt my strength renewed.
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"We arrived at the summit of Mont Blanc at eleven o'clock in the forenoon, and I now enjoyed the grand spectacle that was under my eyes. I could scarcely believe my eyes — I thought myself in a dream — when I saw below my feet so many majestic peaks, especially the Needles, the Midi, Argentière, and Géant, whose bases had proved so difficult and dangerous of access. I obtained a perfect knowledge of their proportion to, and connexion with, each other; of their form and structure; and a single view removed more doubts and afforded more information than whole years of study. While I was thus employed, my guides pitched my tent, and were fixing my apparatus for the experiments I had proposed to make on boiling water, but when I came to dispose my instruments for the purpose, I was obliged almost at every instant to desist from my labours, and turn all my thoughts to the means of respiration. While I remained perfectly still, I experienced but little uneasiness more than a slight oppression about my heart; but on the smallest bodily exertion, or when I fixed my attention on any subject for some minutes together, and particularly when I pressed my chest in the act of stooping, I was obliged to rest, and pause for two or three minutes. My guides were in a similar condition. We had no appetite, and our provisions, which were all frozen, were not well calculated to excite it. Nor had we any inclination for wine or brandy, which increased our indisposition, most probably by accelerating the circulation of the blood. Nothing but fresh water relieved us, and much time and trouble were necessary to procure this article, as we could have no other than melted snow. I remained on the summit till half-past three, and though I did not lose a single moment, I was not able to make all those experiments in four hours and a half, which I have frequently done in less than three hours by the sea-side. We returned much easier than I could have expected, since in descending we did not experience any bad effects from the compression of the thorax, our respiration was not impeded, and we were not under the necessity of resting, in order to recover our breath and strength. The road down to the first plain was, nevertheless, by no means agreeable, on account of the great declivity; and the sun shining brightly on the tops of the precipices below us, made so dazzling an appearance, that it required a good head to avoid growing giddy from the prospect. We pitched our tent again on the snow, though we were more than 400 yards below our last night's encampment; and I was here fully convinced that it was the rarity of the air, and not the fatigue of the journey, which had incommoded us on the summit of the mountain, as we found ourselves, when so much lower, quite well, and able to attack our supper with a good appetite."