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No man had ever accomplished the ascent before, though the attempts had been numerous. MR. WHYMPER'S NARRATIVE We started from Zermatt on the 13th of July, at half past five, on a brilliant and perfectly cloudless morning. Hadow, Rev. Mr. Hudson, and I. To insure steady motion, one tourist and one native walked together. The youngest Taugwalder fell to my share.
I will import the chief portion of it into this book, partly because of its intrinsic interest, and partly because it gives such a vivid idea of what the perilous pastime of Alp-climbing is. This was Mr. Whymper's NINTH attempt during a series of years, to vanquish that steep and stubborn pillar or rock; it succeeded, the other eight were failures.
On Saturday Father Rowley received the following letter from the Bishop: High Thorpe Castle. April 9. Dear Mr. Rowley, I have just received Canon Whymper's report upon the new church of the Silchester College Mission, and I think before you open the church on Easter Sunday I should like to talk over one or two comparatively unimportant details with you personally.
"It would please him," she wrote, "to learn that, through Mr. Whymper's intercession, Carew had continued her pension. In fifteen years she had discovered that his time could be remitted to that extent there would be quite a little fortune for him. In the mean time, she thought of him night and day." But there was something else in the letter.
"A friend of Mr. Whymper's should be always welcome here. How is he, Sir? And how is Mr. Carew?" "I have seen neither of them since I was staying at Crompton three months ago or so," said Richard, coolly.
I will import the chief portion of it into this book, partly because of its intrinsic interest, and partly because it gives such a vivid idea of what the perilous pastime of Alp-climbing is. This was Mr. Whymper's NINTH attempt during a series of years, to vanquish that steep and stubborn pillar or rock; it succeeded, the other eight were failures.
Convinced at last that they were neither within sight nor hearing, we ceased from our useless efforts; and, too cast down for speech, silently gathered up our things, and the little effects of those who were lost, and then completed the descent. Such is Mr. Whymper's graphic and thrilling narrative.
One of the most memorable of all the Alpine catastrophes was that of July, 1865, on the Matterhorn already slightly referred to, a few pages back. The details of it are scarcely known in America. To the vast majority of readers they are not known at all. Mr. Whymper's account is the only authentic one.
Convinced at last that they were neither within sight nor hearing, we ceased from our useless efforts; and, too cast down for speech, silently gathered up our things, and the little effects of those who were lost, and then completed the descent. Such is Mr. Whymper's graphic and thrilling narrative.
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