H is for Henry
2025 A to Z challenge
I recently received an email from an historian researching early Himalayan mountaineering. He had come across references to a Captain (later Lieutenant Colonel) H. Ch. de Crespigny of the 56th Rifles, Frontier Force, who in 1911, with Captain Arthur Morris Slingsby, a fellow officer of the regiment, had attempted a summit climb of Kamet, a peak of the northern Himalayas close to the present China-India border.
Their climb was unsuccessful. The research suggests that Henry de Crespigny had relatively little mountaineering experience and that Slingsby was the driving force in the attempt on Kamet. De Crespigny apparently got not much further than a high-altitude camp at Ghastoli. Slingsby pushed on for the summit with six porters, but deep snow forced them to turn back at 23,000 feet. Two years later Slingsby made a second attempt on Kamet, also unsuccessful.
From Kamet Conquered by Francis Sydney Smythe (1900-1949) published 1932 pages 15-20
Unfortunately, no complete record exists of the determined attempts made to climb Kamet by the late Captain A. Morris Slingsby, of the 56th Frontier Force Rifles, who was killed in 1916 at the head of his regiment in Mesopotamia. He bid fair to be a great mountaineer, and, had he lived, would undoubtedly have achieved much in the Himalaya. As few will have read the account of his attempt in vol. iv. of the Yorkshire Ramblers' Club Journal, I make no excuse for quoting it.
With Captain (now Lieut. -Colonel) H. Ch. de Crespigny he set off from Ranikhet early in May 1911 with eighty coolies, carrying stores for two and a half months. It was an exceptionally late winter, and at Badrinath the party were delayed for two weeks owing to no Bhotia coolies being available.
Early in June, however, they set off up the Ghastoli Glacier with ten picked coolies, who were well provided for with warm clothing, sleeping-bags, and boots. They camped at 15,500 ft., and next day continued on up the Glacier, having to toil knee deep through soft snow. They were overcome by mountain sickness, and had to halt and camp at a height of 18,000 ft. They gave up all idea of reaching the col below Kamet at which they were aiming, and returned to Ghastoli with their stores.
A day spent in a comfortable camp aided acclimatisation, and Slingsby set out again with six coolies and double marched up to the 18,000 ft. camp in eight hours.
Next day he left the camp at 6 a.m. for the col between the Eastern and Western Ibi Gamin, confident that the former peak was merely a minor pinnacle on a continuous ridge leading to the summit of Kamet. He now felt very fit, and the coolies also were going well. After two hours' walking, the foot of steep slopes leading up to the col was reached. The party found themselves standing in a snowfield almost surrounded by an amphitheatre of ice, snow, and ice-covered rocks, cleft by gullies stretching up to the col some 1,500 ft. above them.
The slopes to the col were very steep, but a thin covering of frozen snow over the ice sufficed for footholds and saved them the exertion of step-cutting. At last, however, stepcutting became necessary.
A thick mist enshrouded them, and the Bhotia coolies became tired and dispirited : after three hours' climbing, all but one were weeping bitterly and declaring that they could go no farther. They did not, however, dare to retreat, as Slingsby had taken off the rope. By way of cheering them up, he let them sit down, and went on ahead by himself to cut steps. He got above the snow, and had to climb steep ice. The rocks also were sheeted with ice, and the whole burden of chipping this off and making footholds fell upon him. At intervals of a hundred feet he halted to fix the rope round an ice-axe or a rock and threw it down to the coolies, who, utilising it as a handrail, hauled themselves up one by one.
It was very slow work. Thick mist made it difficult to keep to the route that had been mapped out from below, and it was essential that this route should be adhered to owing to falling stones. As Slingsby wrote, " We went on slowly like this, until, after ascending about 1,000 ft., we came to more rocks and ice, where we had to cross over to the main gully, and, after getting across it, climbed up by its easterly side. I had hoped the abundance of rocks would have made it easier, but they only added to the labour, for they were all covered with ice so hard that even at noon it was only with difficulty that I could chip off enough to get a foothold. Each coolie had to be carefully watched, for there would have been little hope of saving anyone who slipped, as there was nothing over which to hitch the rope. They were now very tired, dread of the unknown adding to their physical weariness, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that with the help of Gulab Khan, after nine hours spent in climbing some 1,500 ft., we reached the top of the col (21,000 ft.) at 6.30 p.m., as the day was drawing to a close. The place was so steep that it was only with difficulty that I found a site for our Mummery tents. One coolie, overcome with weariness, sat down and, slipping his arms from the rope by which he held his load, stood up. Immediately, and without warning, the load slid away before he could stop it and went bumping down to the bottom of the gully, where we found it the next day."
In reaching this col, Slingsby had accomplished a splendid piece of mountaineering. His account in the Yorkshire Ramblers' Club Journal continues :
" After settling down in camp, I went on to the top of the pass and got a glimpse of Kamet and the country to the north. The mists slid away, and the panorama before me was magnificent. Just below the corniced slope of the col, a very high glacier, starting from the north-west side of Kamet, stretched away at our feet and curved gradually north until it merged in the low grey hills of the distant Sutlej Valley. Beyond, the untrodden summits of the Kailas Mountains rose tier after tier up into the skies, girt here and there with long straight lines of hovering clouds, which seemed to add considerably to their height. Turning from this vast upland view of Tibet, I looked eastwards on Kamet. From the col, a long snow-slope swept up to a great rock tower, itself a minor peak, some 2,000 ft. above me, from which, if it were climbed, it would be necessary to drop down many hundreds of feet before again commencing to climb up the slopes of Kamet itself. By going more to the east, however, and avoiding it altogether, it would, I believe, be possible to get on to a long continuous snowslope, and so to the top of Kamet. What manner of hidden crevasses lie between the col and this slope I cannot say, but the snow, of course, gets the full effect of the sun at the early dawn, and here undoubtedly would be the greatest difficulty. To the south and west were countless small peaks, and here and there a larger one that raised its head above its fellows, their eternal snows flushing pale yellow in the rays of the setting sun. As I gazed on this sea of peaks, as yet untrodden by man, the last parting rays of the sun lit up their upper slopes, the wind dropped, the peaks grew dim beneath the twinkling stars, the avalanches from Kamet ceased, and over all a great stillness reigned.
" Next morning, after a cold but windless night, I tried to get the coolies to come on, but they had all been somewhat affected by the altitude and their exertions of the previous day, and only one would accompany me. Though the reward of our efforts had seemed so close at hand, even within our grasp, I now began to realise that I could not go on and leave the coolies where they were, for they would surely have died. With the obstinacy of despair, I went on for about two hours, to a height of, I suppose, some 22,000 ft., and then returned to camp. The snow was very soft, and this served to confirm my misgivings of the previous evening and the effect it would have had on our further progress."
Retreat was imperative, and Slingsby returned to Ghastoli. Thus ended a gallant attempt to climb Kamet. If Slingsby had had expert Darjeeling porters with him, he would in all probability have reached the summit of the Eastern Ibi Gamin. He seemed to realise that this peak was a separate entity and that it would have been necessary to have descended many hundreds of feet before the ascent could have been resumed. Actually, a descent of over 700 ft. from the summit of the Eastern Ibi Gamin to the col between it and Kamet would have been necessary.
It is even doubtful whether the summit above him was the summit of the Eastern Ibi Gamin. His proposal to go to the east and avoid the Eastern Ibi Gamin shows that he was misled by the nature of the ground. Such a traverse would have been quite impracticable, whilst a traverse across the western face would have been equally impracticable.
Any party approaching Kamet from Slingsby's Col would be bound to traverse the summit of Eastern Ibi Gamin. Such a traverse would be a very long one, and would involve at least another two camps above Slingsby's highest camp, whilst the position of a party exhausted on the final slopes of Kamet, or caught there, or on the col between Kamet and the Eastern Ibi Gamin, by bad weather, and faced with a re-ascent over the latter mountain, would be precarious in the extreme.
Undeterred by his reverse, this determined mountaineer returned to the attack during May and early June 1913. The same route was adhered to, but he was again dogged by bad luck. As before, he had difficulty in persuading the local coolies to accompany him at high altitudes ; the weather was bad, and finally, a severe snowstorm put an end to his climb at a height of over 23,000 ft.My fifth cousin twice removed Henry Champion de Crespigny (1882 – 1946) was the oldest son of Philip Augustus Champion de Crespigny (1850 – 1912) and Rose de Crespigny née Key (1859 – 1935).
Henry was educated at Durham School, one of England’s oldest public schools, from 1896. He became a King’s Scholar, a member of the 1st XV for two years, and of the 1st XI for three, and, in his final year, its Captain.
In 1900 he began a military career at Sandhurst. Two years later he was commissioned and assigned to the Northamptonshire Regiment.
In 1907 Lieutenant Champion de Crespigny joined the 56th Punjabi Rifles at Samana, Punjab. He was promoted to captain in January 1911.
Henry took part in the Gallipoli campaign during the 1914-1918 war and also saw service in Egypt and France, including as Aide-de-Camp to General Birdwood. He was mentioned three times in dispatches and was awarded the M.C. in 1917. He retired in 1934 with the rank of lieutenant-colonel. During the 1939-45 war he joined the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve (R.A.F.V.R.).
In 1941 Henry de Crespigny became the sixth baronet following the death of his cousin Claude Raul Champion de Crespigny (1878 – 1941). None of the five sons of the fourth baronet Sir Claude Champion de Crespigny (1847 – 1935) had sons. Henry’s father Philip was the fourth baronet’s younger brother.
In 1946 Sir Henry de Crespigny died and the baronetcy passed on to his brother Frederick Champion de Crespigny (1884 – 1947). Henry never married.
Related posts:
Wikitree:
Henry Champion de Crespigny (1882 – 1946)
Arthur Morris Slingsby (1885-1916)
I enjoyed reading this description of the climb Anne. I loved all the detail and felt that I was there. I do wonder at them doing this without modern day clothing and tools.