Undaunted Courage: Meriwether Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of… (1996)

I have to admit that I scarcely knew anything about the Lewis and Clark Expedition (1804-1806) before reading this fine book. Wow! What a loss! While reading one book on the subject does not make one an expert, by any means, this book is an excellent starting point.

Stephen E. Ambrose was a seasoned, gifted writer, who knew how to separate fact from fiction to construct a captivating narrative, which sums up this important work.

The author drew upon the contributions of dozens of fine writers as well as well as primary sources in describing the background of and preparation for the expedition, the expedition itself, and brief period thereafter. Book chapters (there are 40) are largely a detailed chronology of events, and persons and places associated.

In addition to Lewis Meriwether (the main figure) and William Clark, much space is devoted to the role of Thomas Jefferson in the Expedition. But roles and influences of dozens of men and women (including Sacajawea) are included in the work.

The book is enhanced by a number of illustrations and maps, which I found to be very helpful. There is also an extensive bibliography and an excellent index.

Persons interested in the history of the United States of America may wish to put this book on their reading list.

Note: I finished reading the book on October 11, 2020, which strangely happened to be the 211th anniversary of the death of Meriwether Lewis. ( )

“That evening, the first Americans ever to enter Montana, the first ever to see the Yellowstone, the Milk, the Marias, and the Great Falls, the first Americans ever to kill a grizzly, celebrated their nation’s twenty-ninth birthday.”

Very good narative of Lewis and Clark expedition with lead-up to it and follow up until Lewis' suicide. Includes good exposure to historical and political backdrop as well as some sociological exploration of slave/white and white/native interaction.

A Touchstone bookEx-lib. JCC ( )

It has been over a decade since I’ve read Ambrose’s Band of Brothers, which still resides in my “Top 5 Books Ever Read” list. This book has been on my to-read list for almost as long, partly because I hail from Nebraska, home of the Oregon and Mormon Trails west, and partly because I now live in St. Louis, home of the Gateway Arch, a monument to America’s westward journey and the fierce spirit which engendered it.
There is no figure who encapsulates so much of the distinctive American spirit as the “pioneer.” Independent. Self-reliant. Adventurous. However, before there was ever a massive westward migration…before the “prairie schooners” sailed the endless grasses of the Great Plains…before there ever was such a thing as a “pioneer family”…there was Meriweather Lewis and William Clark.
Though Ambrose sets out the book as a biography of Lewis, it really is the story of both men and the Corps of Discovery they led from St. Louis to the mouth of the Columbia River. You simply cannot write about Lewis without Clark, nor about Lewis and Clark without their defining adventure. As Ambrose relates it, this becomes a story of remarkable friendship and remarkable leadership. What still astounds me, even after finishing the book, is that, prior to their expedition, Lewis had only known Clark for six months. Six. Months.
Ambrose’s telling is rich with personal details from their journals (complete with their, shall we say, “winsome” spellings). He is able to recapture something of that original energy (part enthusiasm, part anxiety) so that the reader feels like they are traveling WITH the adventurers rather than simply reading ABOUT them. That is not to say Ambrose simply “reports” the events; he consistently and quietly guides the reader’s attention to the overlooked detail or the curious turn of phrase that may contain the necessary clue to a mystery of long standing. He even takes stands of his own, particularly in his diagnosis of Lewis as suffering from manic depression. (To be clear: I was not convinced when Ambrose first made his claim but, by the end of the book, he had me persuaded.)
Ambrose also avoids the pitfall of hagiography without critique. He makes plenty of judgments…about the men and about the journey (especially the ill-planned exploration of the Marias River). He does so without losing his genuine admiration for Lewis and for his accomplishments. In this, I feel that perhaps Ambrose’s greatest gift is that he has incarnated the spirit of Jefferson’s relationship to his erstwhile personal secretary and protégé.
Without going into too much detail and robbing the story of its poignancy, the ending of Meriweather Lewis’s story is unexpected and, to be frank, heartbreaking. Ambrose goes to great lengths to explain without excusing, which I deeply appreciated. Greatness often comes at a cost, and men of great achievement can still founder.
Perhaps that’s the real beauty of the story that Ambrose tells, like the stories of Easy Company. He has this ability to find the human stories that both inspire and warn us. He draws for us (in the most enlivened way imaginable) historical figures that simultaneously call us to be like them and better than them. In other words, Ambrose gives us stories not of heroes but of men and women who show us our own capacity for greatness. ( )