By Bryce Horswell, Assistant Upper School Director

It was the greatest adventure in American history. Having purchased enormous lands in the far west from France, President Thomas Jefferson commissioned two young army officers and about thirty men to sail as far as they could up the Missouri River. The president hoped that the “wide Missouri” would eventually lead to the Pacific Ocean, and so open the west coast of the continent to American settlement. But, getting there would be difficult, and some said impossible. The conditions alone--thousands of miles, boiling summers, freezing winters, unsure provisions, disease, not to mention potentially violent encounters with Plains tribes--added up to certain injury and likely death. The expedition set off in the summer of 1804. For the next months, the captains--Merriwether Lewis and William Clark--sent regular dispatches to Washington. Then, the messages came irregularly, and finally, none came at all. After a year with no communication with the expedition, the President and members of Congress concluded that all the men had perished, as so many had predicted would happen. There was a brief memorial, and then the business of politics occupied attention and minds. So, imagine the shock, surprise, and joy when a singular message arrived in St. Louis in the summer of 1806--the captains, and all thirty men were alive, and on the way home!

The Roman statesman and orator Cicero claimed that the study of history was similar to the practice of oratory. Then and now, the orator seeks to persuade his audience using examples arranged in a logical and pleasing way, leading to a certain conclusion. Historical study likewise invites us to learn and be persuaded by the examples of others. So, in the case just mentioned, how did thirty odd men accomplish what others said was impossible? How did they survive? And is there anything relatable for us today, especially in our roles as teachers, parents, and students?

More than you might think! Of all the many reasons for the expedition’s success, there’s one I would like to emphasize for the purpose of learning and persuading (in Ciceronian fashion)--and that is how the expedition in the face of adversity and challenge grew and strengthened. The experience I refer to is the expedition’s bitter winter camp at Fort Mandan, deep in the Dakotas.

HLS Students on mission to work diligently each day!

It was a long period of time, this winter, nearly five months; and the soldiers could hardly believe that only a short time before, in August, they nearly perished from withering heat. They had come to this place after months of travel from St. Louis. The captains judged that as it was early November, if they were to ever have adequate shelter, it needed to be built promptly. The very next day, as William Clark recorded, they began to build a triangular wooden stockade--Fort Mandan. Within a week, it was largely furnished and finished, and not too soon, for even in November, winter had come to plains.

Every day, the captains recorded sub-zero temperatures and the depth of ice on the nearby Missouri. After three feet, they stopped recording. The nearby tribes attempted to forage for supplies when the wind and snows blew less fierce. Sometimes they found food. Other times, the winds returned when not suspected, and the warriors froze out in the open far from lodges, fire, and warmth. The captains recorded in their log the story of one poor boy, almost 14, who was found encased in ice after getting lost on the prairie. These circumstances, needless to say, were severe. It is a sign of our comfortable living that few of us have ever been truly cold--a situation where there wasn’t some means nearby to get warm. The spaces we regularly inhabit--cars, rooms, and homes-they are usually set to a pleasing climate (thermostat wars notwithstanding!) I can honestly think of few circumstances more challenging than to sit in the dark, hungry, freezing cold, with no obvious way to fix the situation. Yet, I claim that in the middle of all this, the expedition grew stronger, and that we can learn from that. How?

The simplest answer is that the captains and the expedition members had a plan for the time, a structure which gave meaning and purpose to the troubling days. The plan began with the fort itself, simple in design, yet effective. It was more than protection from hostile forces, but also a place of refuge, secure and safe. Once that was finished, the soldiers had daily routines, the point of which was not to occupy time, but to prepare adequately for the future. The soldiers hunted, harvested, cured, and stored game. They manufactured leather, fashioned clothing, and stitched shoes. They repaired tools and firearms. And oddly enough, on the coldest nights, the captains insisted on music and dancing--a celebration! They concluded each week with services and a reminder that soon the ice would break, and their long time in winter would be over! And even though it seemed like it never would come, one afternoon, in late March, cracks appeared on the river’s surface.

As I read Clark’s entry on that day, and the evident joy in his writing, I reflected on our school and our life here. Sometimes, as teachers, parents, and students, we may feel like we are in interminable winter, repeating the same things over and over. We may feel like the circus performer who spins a plate, only to dash over to another about to plummet to the ground. Life and its responsibilities may seem fruitless, maybe even pointless. In those moments, I want to remember what got the expedition through its long winter: careful guidance from the captains, preparation for what lay ahead, and celebration when the days seemed hardest. I have said it to many others, and I’ll say it again here, but I am so grateful to be a part of this community where those same things are pursued.

Here at Highlands Latin School, the faculty give careful, thoughtful instruction. The students work diligently through each day, accumulating expertise that will one day (very soon!) serve them so well in their future journey. And it is all done, sometimes at the hardest moments, with attitudes of charity, goodwill, and joy. I don’t know if everything done here will be remembered in the same fashion as the great expedition. But I do know that if we are faithful to these principles and constant in our purpose, in our own ways, in our own time, there will be triumphs to celebrate! Let’s send word to St. Louis!

Lessons from the Trail