Across The Wide Missouri

The history books tell us that Lewis and Clark’s first stop in the new Louisiana Territory was the village of St. Charles on the Missouri River.  The villagers were French Canadian, and they welcomed Lewis and Clark as they started their westward exploration.  The villagers welcomed Lewis and Clark by holding a ball for them.

As part of Lewis and Clark Heritage Days in 1998, I was asked to recreate the ball.  It was quite an honor because I was asked by a descendant of William Clark.

It was a formidable task:  The history books do not say exactly what dances were danced at the ball.  However, both Lewis and Clark grew up in Colonial Virginia, where they would have taken dance lessons.  Because of the US Bicentennial celebration, a lot of the dances popular in 1776 have been well documented.  I bought a book of dances from 1776, figuring that the French Canadian villagers may not have known these dances, but Lewis and Clark would have been familiar with them.

It was a Saturday evening when I headed off to St. Charles with a book of Colonial dances, a boombox, and a couple CDs of dance music.  I parked by the Missouri River, crossed over a slough on a wooden bridge, and came to the encampment.

Participants in Heritage Days had camped out for the night.  The pavilion where the ball was to be held was filled with teenaged campers, mostly members of fife and drum corps.  They were enthusiastic musicians: they were fifing and drumming as I approached.

I wondered how I would ever get these teenagers to stop playing so I could set up my little boombox.  Then I listened to their music.  It was Colonial music.  Danceable Colonial music.

I forgot about the boombox and recruited the fifers and drummers to play their favorite music.  The campers came to dance: crafts people, merchants, pirogue makers, cannoneers.  The pavilion roof amplified the music.  It was just a block away from the restaurants on Main Street in St. Charles, and some diners drifted down to the pavilion to watch us dance.

I was making progress going down the list of dances I had prepared, when the dancers started chanting.  “We want the Paddle Dance!  We want the Paddle Dance!!”  I had never heard of the Paddle Dance.  Suddenly, control of the dance passed out of my hands and into the hands of the dancers. 

The Paddle Dance was quickly explained to me: you have a line of men facing a line of women.  The man at the top of the line steps forward holding a canoe paddle.  Immediately, the 2 top women form up beside him, one on each side.  The man hands the paddle to one of the women and then dances down to the end of the line with the other woman, leaving the woman with the paddle behind.  Immediately, the 2 top men form up beside her, one on each side.  The woman hands the paddle to one of the men, and…

It was clear that the Paddle Dance was an endless loop.  Luckily, the teenaged fifers and drummers were showing no signs of fatigue.

I was also clear that I was no longer needed.  I slipped away, walking past the tents of the encampment, stars overhead.  I felt that I had provided what was requested: chance for people to do some dancing with a historical flavor, reflecting the memory of the ball held in St. Charles 194 years previously.

When I got to my car by the river, I could still hear the fifes and drums.  I looked at the Missouri River; I was sure that the dance music was loud enough to be heard on the other side, across the wide Missouri.

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NOTE: Doug's best stories have been collected into a book: Puppy Out Of Breath.  Price = $11.  You can purchase a copy at  http://www.puppyoutofbreath.com