The Matterhorn Centenary. Zermatt, 1965

by J. G. Brook

The first ascent of the Matterhorn on July 14th, 1865, was a tragedy as well as a triumph. These conflicting historical facts must have presented a problem to those faced with the task of recognising this centenary. The problem was, however, solved with the usual Swiss tact and efficiency and a nice balance was struck between celebrating the triumph and commemorating the tragedy.

It was impossible during this eventful week for one indi­vidual to keep track of all the varied activities going on in and around Zermatt and these notes are only a record of my own stray observations. Zermatt was en fete, the main street and the hotels were gaily bedecked with banners, cantonal and national. Throughout the week the weather, at least in the village, was exemplary.

The Swiss had nominated 1965 “The Year of the Alps”, so that in addition to the Matterhorn centenary there was much to be seen and heard of historical and artistic interest relating to the Alps as a whole. Neat showcases had been erected on the pavements of the village street and in the Museum garden, containing old maps, guide books, glacier crystals and speci­mens of primitive equipment, some of which looked positively lethal by modern standards.

The official proceedings were initiated with a Dinner org­anised by the Alpine Club and the Schweizer Alpen-Club on the evening of Sunday, July 11th, at the Monte Rosa Hotel. It was an international gathering of mountaineers, famous and not so famous, and the guests included relatives and descen­dants of those involved in the first ascent of the Matterhorn. I found that one of my partners at the dinner table was a relative of the Rev. Charles Hudson. One could not help feeling that in addition to the living climbers present that night the spirits of the pioneers who had used this historic hotel as a base for their first ascents must have been in some degree present. A quaint feature of the celebrations was that the guests were divided into “official” and “unofficial”, the former being distinguished from their less exalted brethren by a red and white riband worn in the lapel of the jacket.

The next day I was away at the Monte Rosa Hut and there­fore saw nothing of the official reception at the Seiler Haus Restaurant, nor the dedication of the “Hall July 14th, 1865” at the Museum. Neither did I see anything of the television antics on the Matterhorn on July 14th. Apparently many viewers were impressed by what they saw but opinion seemed to be divided amongst those taking part in the operation. As everyone now knows, Madame Yvette Vaucher, with her husband and Othmar Kronig, made the first ascent of the North Face by a woman, making a bivouac during the night of the 13th and arriving on the summit about 7.30 a.m. on the 14th, a few hours before the Hornli Ridge parties.

Wednesday, July 14th, was the official memorial day in Zermatt. I therefore spent the whole day in the village and found it a memorable experience. On the Festival Field an enclosure had been made with a platform for the performers and seats for the official guests. Under the blue sky and bril­liant sunshine the field, gay with banners and backed by the Matterhorn glittering white from the summit to the Hornli, was an impressive spectacle. The morning was given over to a memorial service conducted by the Bishop of Sion, of which the most moving feature was the beautiful singing of the choir, the Musical Society of Zermatt. The service concluded with a short address by Dr. R. R. Williams, Bishop of Leicester, who touched on the ties forged between the Swiss and the English by the mountain exploits of the past. The service was followed by the laying of wreaths at the cemetery and at the Taugwal-derhaus.

The memorial side of the centenary having been duly ob­served the afternoon was given over to celebration. The ball was set rolling by a procession of officials and guests, led by the local brass band and headed by some very striking young drum majorettes of the type more often associated with American Presidential elections. Speeches were delivered by the Mayor of Zermatt and by a member of the Swiss Bundesrat and the musical part of the programme was capably provided by the Lucerne Musical Society and Symphony Orchestra. We heard the first performance of Jean Daetwyler’s “Alpine Symphony”, conducted by the composer. Unfortunately it was impossible to obtain a true estimate of this interesting work owing to the shortcomings of the amplification system.

Probably the most impressive part of the programme was the reading of passages from Byron’s Manfred by Herr Alfred Lohner of the Vienna Burgtheater, whose magnificent decla­mation brought out the full dramatic content of the poetry. This was followed by the recitation, by Major H. H. Hadow, a descendant of Douglas Hadow, of a sonnet written by Lord Francis Douglas on the eve of the Matterhorn ascent. The Fest-Platz was filled almost to capacity with residents and visitors and I could not help wondering whether a British crowd would have stood so long and so quietly listening to a programme of music and poetry, most of it in a foreign language.

Those of us who delight in showing our wonderful colour transparencies were brought down to earth by the revelation that all this had been done, and done much better, over a hundred years ago. A small marquee had been erected in a corner of the Fest-Platz containing an exhibition of the trans­parency paintings of Franz Niklaus Konig (1765—1832). These truly beautiful paintings were done in water colour on an alcohol impregnated paper illuminated from behind and shown in a darkened room. Konig often heightened the effect by scraping the paper or by cutting out small portions to make it more translucent. The effect, particularly of moonlight scenes, was breathtaking. There was also an exhibition of Alpine art by artists working in the more orthodox oils and water colour. At the Castor Cinema films of various Matterhorn ascents could be seen, the earliest dating from 1901.

The public part of the day’s proceedings ended with a short memorial service in the English Church, led by Dr. Williams, during which Sir John Hunt laid a wreath on the grave of Rev. Charles Hudson, whose body now lies beneath the Holy Table in the Church.

The Zermatt celebrations were followed by similar festivities at Breuil on the Italian side of the Matterhorn, and it was intended to link these proceedings by a traverse of climbers over the mountain from the Swiss to the Italian village. How­ever, the weather had the last word and most of those who went over to Breuil made a somewhat inglorious passage of the Theodule by sno-cat and cable car. Some of these mechanical developments in the Alps can only be viewed with alarm and dismay by those who love the solitude of the peaks and glaciers. In the sacred name of Winter Sports a network of chair lifts and cable cars is spreading like a rash around all the well-known centres and the huge pylons erected to carry these are spoiling some of the most secluded and delightful places. It is now possible to be carried from Zermatt to the Upper Theodule Glacier near the Gandegg Hut by cable car, where, after a walk of about one hundred yards, a sno-cat is waiting to take one over the glacier to the Theodule Hut. For the benefit of those who wish to ski on the Rosa Plateau the classic crossing of the Theodule has been vulgarised by mech­anical transport.

I offer no apology for making these observations together with my impressions of the centenary celebrations. Nobody can pretend that Zermatt, Grindelwald and the other well-known Alpine centres could remain as they were a hundred years ago, but there is no reason why the mountains and glaciers themselves should not. In fact there is every reason, moral and aesthetic, why they should be kept free from the despoiling hand of man, whether it be for the benefit of winter sportsmen or of cable car mountaineers. One hopes that our Swiss friends see, before it is too late, that they may be killing the goose that lays the golden eggs.

At the Y.R.C. 1965 Annual Dinner, Sir John Hunt, com­menting on the Zermatt celebrations, speculated as to whether the year 2053 would see Kathmandu similarly celebrating the first ascent of Everest. Putting aside the question whether this planet will still be inhabited by the human race a hundred years hence, the possibility is unlikely. It was not so much the triumph as the catastrophe of the Matterhorn that stirred the imagination of men, just as it is the tragedy of Scott rather than the triumph of Amundsen that dominates the story of the South Pole. The Matterhorn ascent had some of the ele­ments of Greek tragedy; the seemingly inexorable fate that drew together those particular men at that particular time and place, and led them from victory to disaster. If the first ascent of the Matterhorn had been accomplished smoothly without a hitch it would have been just one more of the many first ascents that were made about that time and the mountain would not have been invested with the somewhat morbid glamour which has hung about it ever since.

Nevertheless, in spite of its ropes and chains it is still a very great and beautiful mountain, and in July 1965 homage was paid to it as well as to those who made the first ascent.

Before concluding these notes on the celebrations one further observation must be made. Many British climbers were grieved at the absence of a well-known Zermatt figure during the week. I refer to Bernard Biner, who had died suddenly the previous April. All the British climbers, and there are several Ramblers amongst them, who have enjoyed the hospitality of Bernard Biner and his sister, Paula, at the Bahnhof were shocked to learn of his death. Erstwhile chief of the Zermatt guides, he had been retired for some years but with his vast knowledge of the Zermatt peaks he was ever ready with help and advice to all climbers, beginners or experienced. His quiet unassuming sincerity made a lasting impression on all who met him and he will be sadly missed by all who know Zermatt and its mountains.