This Little Fleet

“Our vessels consisted of six small canoes, and two large perogues. This little fleet altho’ not quite so rispectable as those of Columbus or Capt. Cook were still viewed by us with as much pleasure as those deservedly famed adventurers ever beheld theirs; and I dare say with quite as much anxiety for their safety and preservation. we were now about to penetrate a country at least two thousand miles in width, on which the foot of civillized man had never trodden; the good or evil it had in store for us was for experiment yet to determine, and these little vessells contained every article by which we were to expect to subsist or defend ourselves. however as this the state of mind in which we are, generally gives the colouring to events, when the immagination is suffered to wander into futurity, the picture which now presented itself to me was a most pleasing one. entertaining as I do, the most confident hope of succeading in a voyage which had formed a da[r]ling project of mine for the last ten years I could but esteem this moment of my departure as among the most happy of my life. The party are in excellent health and sperits, zealously attached to the enterprise, and anxious to proceed; not a whisper of murmur or discontent to be heard among them, but all act in unison, and in perfect harmony. I took an early supper this evening and went to bed.”

--the Journal of Captain Meriwether Lewis, April 7, 1805

So begins the adventure into the great unknown of Lewis and Clark’s Corps of Discovery. Scholars have noted that Lewis either recognized the historical significance of what he was about to do, by placing his name alongside those of Columbus and Cook as the greatest of explorers, or wanted to make sure that those who read these journals later would do so. I think history will judge, or has judged, that he was correct. Lewis wrote this entry at a camp some four miles above Fort Mandan, from which they had departed earlier in the day. Surely these are some of the best words ever written in North Dakota.

Also earlier that day Lewis had written a long letter to President Jefferson, which he sent with a small party he dispatched back to St. Louis. The party took with them volumes of notes and journals and letters, and numerous “souvenirs” of the trip to date, including skins, buffalo robes, antlers, horns, seeds, corn, remnants of other critters, numerous scientific notes and drawings, maps—a treasure trove to a President who never set foot west of Virginia, but was starving for information on what was “out there.” An excerpt from Lewis’ letter to Jefferson:

“Our baggage is all embarked on board six small canoes and two perogues . . . we calculate on traveling at the rate of 20 or 25 miles per day as far as the falls of the Missouri. Beyond this point, or the first range of rocky Mountains situated about 100 miles further, any calculation with rispect to our daily progress, can be little more than conjecture . . . We do not calculate on completeing our voyage within the present year, but expect to reach the Pacific Ocean, and return, as far as the head of the Missouri, or perhaps to this place before winter. You may therefore expect me to meet you at Montachello in September 1806.”

We know, of course, that Lewis was a bit optimistic. He did reach the Pacific in 1805, but wintered there. On their return, they reached St. Louis on September 23, 1806, after a journey of 28 months and some 8,000 miles. He arrived back in Washington DC on December 28, just three months later than he expected. Not bad.

The quotes from Lewis’ journals and his letter to Jefferson are from Clay Jenkinson’s masterpiece, “A Vast and Open Plain – The Writings of the Lewis & Clark Expedition in North Dakota, 1804-1806.” The punctuation and spelling (which had my spellchecker screaming at me for an hour today) are as Jenkinson included them, from the journals and the historical research he did in assembling this marvelous work. Thank you, Clay.