Life of John Coleridge Patteson : Missionary Bishop of the Melanesian Islands — John Shaqi
Life of John Coleridge Patteson : Missionary Bishop of the Melanesian IslandsYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Religion
Life of John Coleridge Patteson : Missionary Bishop of the Melanesian Islands
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Missions -- Melanesia; Patteson, John Coleridge, 1827-1871
'On Monday at 4.15 A.M. we started from the Montanvert, with our
alpenstocks, plenty of ropes, and a hatchet to cut steps in the ice. We
walked quickly over the Mer de Glace, and in about three hours came to
the difficult part. I had no conception of what it would be. We had to
ascend perpendicular walls of ice, 30, 40, 50 feet high, by little
holes which we cut with the hatchet, and to climb over places not a foot
broad, with enormous crevasses on each side. I was determined not to
give in, and said not a word, but I thought that no one had a right to
expose himself to such danger if known beforehand. After about three
hours spent in this way, (during which I made but one slip, when I slid
about twelve feet down a crevasse, but providentially did not lose my
head, and saved myself by catching at a broken ridge of ice, rising
up in the crevasse, round which I threw my leg and worked my way up it
astride), got to the region of snow, and here the danger was of falling
into hidden crevasses. We all five fastened ourselves to one another
with ropes. I went in the middle, Couttet in front, then Payot. Most
unluckily the weather began to cloud over, and soon a sharp hailstorm
began, with every indication of a fog. We went very cautiously over
the snow for about three hours, sinking every now and then up to our
middles, but only once in a crevasse, when Couttet suddenly fell,
singing out "Tirez! tirez!" but he was pulled out instantly. We had now
reached the top, but the fog was so dense that I could scarcely see 30
feet before me, and the crevasses and mountains of snow looming close
round us looked awful. At this moment the guides asked me if I must make
the passage. I said instantly that I wanted to do so, but that I would
sooner return at once than endanger the lives of any of them. They told
me there was certainly great danger, they had lost their way, but were
unwilling to give up. For an hour and a half we beat about in the fog,
among the crevasses, trying every way to find the pass, which is very
narrow, wet to the skin, and in constant peril; but we knew that the
descent on the Chamouni side is far more difficult than that on the
Courmayeur side. At last all the guides agreed that it was impossible
to find the way, said the storm was increasing, and that our only chance
was to return at once. So we did, but the fearful difficulties of the
descent I shall never forget. Even in the finest weather they reckon it
very difficult, but yesterday we could not see the way, we were numbed
with intense cold, and dispirited from being forced to return.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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