Scrambles Amongst the Alps in the Years 1860-69 — Inside the Classic

The Matterhorn as a Recurring Presence

The Matterhorn dominates the book long before its final ascent. Whymper devotes multiple chapters to his attempts, each time detailing the route, the conditions, and the reasons for failure. In Chapter IV, 'My First Scramble on the Matterhorn,' he describes an early reconnaissance; by Chapter VII, 'Our Sixth Attempt to Ascend the Matterhorn,' the reader senses the growing obsession. The excerpts show Whymper's methodical approach: he notes the mountain's structure, the state of the snow, and the behavior of his companions. The Matterhorn is not just a peak but a puzzle to be solved through persistence and careful observation.

The Pointe des Écrins and the Weight of Experience

In Chapter IX, Whymper recounts the ascent of the Pointe des Écrins, but his tone is far from triumphant. He warns that anyone who reaches the summit 'after a fall of new snow' is likely to experience 'misery far deeper than anything with which he has hitherto been acquainted.' This passage reveals a key aspect of Whymper's voice: he is willing to share hard-won lessons, even when they caution against repeating his own feats. The description of the slope's danger—'its angle is severe, and the rocks do not project sufficiently'—shows his analytical eye for terrain and his commitment to honest reporting over romanticism.

Contrasts in Accommodation and Hospitality

Whymper's narrative is punctuated by sharp contrasts between the comfort of mountain huts and the squalor of valley inns. In Chapter X, he flees the 'foul den' of a cabaret at Val Louise for the 'clean straw' of a chalet at Entraigues, where the hospitality is 'most cordial.' These details ground the high-altitude drama in the mundane realities of travel: bad food, noisy lodgings, and the relief of finding a kind host. The midnight arrival of Monsieur Reynaud, who 'energetically pursued us during the night,' adds a touch of farce to the otherwise serious business of exploration.

The Role of Local Guides and Companions

Whymper frequently acknowledges the contributions of his guides and local companions. In the excerpts, he names Almer, Reynaud, and others, showing that his climbs were collaborative efforts. The guide Almer is sent ahead to scout routes; Reynaud, the 'excellent agent-voyer of La Bessée,' joins the party after a night march. These figures are not mere servants but active participants whose knowledge of the terrain is essential. Whymper's respect for their skills is evident, and his narrative often shifts between his own perspective and the collective experience of the party.

Readers approaching Scrambles Amongst the Alps for the first time should pay attention to Whymper's habit of embedding warnings and reflections within his adventure narratives. The book rewards those who read slowly, noting the technical details of routes and the subtle shifts in tone between triumph and caution. The appendices and illustrations—such as the 'Fog-bow seen from the Matterhorn'—add another layer, offering visual evidence of the phenomena he describes.

Reading Whymper’s rope-shy dread on the Matterhorn, I remembered a gray afternoon in my father’s study, drifting through A voyage to the South Sea — A Reader’s Guide. Both books feel less like adventures than like long, careful exhales—men alone with their own trembling, measuring distance in quiet foreboding. That same hush comes back whenever I look at old maps.