The One Eyed Fiddler was Peter (Pierre) Cruzatte.
This Crusat is near Sighted and has the use of but one eye,he is an attentive industerous man and one whome we both have placedthe greatest Confidence in dureing the whole rout.--
Captain William ClarkAugust 12, 1806
Pierre Cruzatte, a member of the permanent party of the Lewis and Clark expedition, was an expert riverman recruited for his navigational skills and his command of the French and Omaha languages.
He also played the fiddle, and his music had a direct impact on the success of the expedition: it served as a critical survival tool, both as a form of entertainment and recreation (in the truest sense of re-creation) for the members of the expedition; and as a way of establishing trust and good will with the Indian nations the expedition encountered along the trail. Besides what appears in the journals of the expedition, we know very little about Cruzatte. Here is a summation of the information contained in the journals:
Cruzatte, the son of a French father and Omaha Indian mother, was the expedition's main boatman as well as its most prominent musician. In the journals of the expedition, Cruzatte's last name appears spelled at least twelve different ways, and his first name appears both as Pierre and Peter. The men of the expedition sometimes referred to him as "the old Frenchman," so he may have been older than most of the party, though we cannot say for certain because we don't know when he was born, nor do we know with certainty when he died--Clark lists him as killed by 1825-28. The men also called him "St. Peter." Again, we do not know why; but it was tradition among the Voyageurs, the French Canadian boatman, to bestow a nickname describing the opposite of a characteristic of a person.
Some sources describe Cruzatte as being small and wiry (see Cruzatte's entry in THE MEN OF THE LEWIS AND CLARK EXPEDITION below), but no primary source supports this assertion. It may have been inferred from descriptions of ideal boatmen. For example, Thomas L. McKenney (in Grace Lee Nute's THE VOYAGER, p. 14), declares that "if [a Voyageur] shall stop growing at about five feet four inches, and be gifted with a good voice, and lungs that never tire, he is considered as having been born under a most favourable star."
Cruzatte joined the expedition as a boatman, ostensibly in St. Charles, Missouri: the journals give his enlistment date as May 16, 1804, the beginning of the expedition's stay in St. Charles. Since Cruzatte did not spend that first winter training at Camp Dubois, his experience must have warranted his inclusion in the journey without the requisite training. Enlisting as a private, he was the expedition's most experienced waterman. Whenever a difficult aquatic problem arose, all the men, including the captains, deffered to Cruzatte. " Cruzatte who had been an old Missouri navigator," writes Captain Lewis at the mouth of the Marias, "and who from his integrity knowledge and skill as a waterman had acquired the confidence of every individual of the party declared it as his opinion that the N. fork was the true genuine Missouri and could be no other." When the expedition had to find a way through the Columbia River Narrows, Lewis "dispatched Peter Crusat (our principal waterman) back to follow the river and examine the practibility of the Canoes passing."
Cruzatte also worked as an interpreter, most notably among Omaha prisoners of the Teton Sioux, who, in September of 1804, told Cruzatte of their battle with the Teton Sioux, the result of which were the 65 scalps "hung on small Poles, which the Women held in their hand, when they danced..." (Joseph Whitehouse, September 27, 1804). Cruzatte returned with word from the prisoners that the expedition was "to be Stoped" by the Teton Sioux, according to Clark's journal entry. Cruzatte's information, and the resulting vigilence of the corps, may have saved the expedition. Cruzatte apparently did not fare as well with the Sioux language: "We had no good interpreter," wrote Sergeant Ordway on September 9, 1804, "but the old frenchman could make them understand tollarable well."
As an experienced boatman, Cruzatte was also familiar with creating caches. When the Captains decided to bury some of their supplies at the mouth of the Marias, Lewis writes, "on enquiry I found that Cruzatte was well acquainted with this business and therefore left the management of it intirely to him...." Cruzatte also knew mushrooms. "Cruzatte brought me several large morells," writes Lewis on June 19, 1806, "which I roasted and eat without salt pepper or grease in this way I had for the first time the true taist of the morell which is truly an insippid taistless food…."
Cruzatte played the fiddle "extreemly well" according to Lewis on June 25, 1805. Cruzatte's music served not only as recreation for the members of the expedition but also as a critical diplomatic tool: he played--and the men danced and sang--for many of the Indian nations which the expedition met along the way. The journals of the expedition describe him playing numerous times, and he probably played many more times than the journalists recorded.
Despite Cruzatte's poor eyesight, he appears quite frequently as a hunter in the journals and was involved in two notable hunting incidents. The first occurred on October 20, 1804, when he became the first member of the expedition to shoot a grizzly bear. "[H]e wounded him," writes Captain Lewis, "but being alarmed at the formidable appearance of the bear he left his tomahalk and gun...." Shortly thereafter, Cruzatte "shot a buffaloe cow broke her thy, the cow pursued him he concealed himself in a small raviene," again according to Lewis. It was not a good day for Monsieur Cruzatte. The other incident occurred on August 11, 1806, Cruzatte mistook Captain Lewis for an elk and shot him. "[T]he ball had passed through the fleshey part of his left thy," according to Clark, "below the hip bone and cut the cheek of the right buttock for 3 inches in length and the debth of the ball," luckily missing bone and artery. Cruzatte intially denied responsibility, prompting Captain Lewis to think the expedition under an Indian attack. Forensic evidence, however, pointed at the old Frenchman. Cruzatte "is an attentive industerous man," writes Captain Clark on the day after the accident, "and one whome we both have placed the greatest Confidence in dureing the whole rout...," but he is "near Sighted and has the use of but one eye...."
Clark's are the last positive words about Cruzatte in the journals. He disappears from history after the expedition. The river that the expedition named after him, Crusat River, in what is now Washington State, we now call the Wind River.
Moulton's The Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition contains the following entry (page 516, volume 2):
Private Pierre Cruzatte (dates unknown).Often referred to as "Peter Cruzat" and other variations in the journals, he was half French and half Omaha. His official enlistment date was May 16, 1804, at St. Charles, Missouri, but he may have been recruited earlier. He was an experienced Missouri River boatman who had already participated in the Indian trade as far as Nebraska and was hired for his skill and experience. Unlike the other French boatmen, he and François Labiche were enlisted as members of the permanent party. He was one-eyed and nearsighted, and his fiddle playing often entertained the party. At times he also acted as interpreter. Lewis paid tribute during the expedition to his skill and experience as a riverman and to his integrity, but in the postexpedition list of members he receives no special recommendation; this is perhaps because the myopic Cruzatte had accidentally wounded Lewis while the two were hunting in August, 1806. Speculation places him with John McClellan's expedition to the Rockies in 1807. Clark lists him as "killed" by 1825-28.
Clarke's The Men of the Lewis and Clark Expedition contains the following information:
37. Private PIERRE CRUZATTE (CRUZAT; CRUSATTE; CROUZATT; CROISETTE).Half French and half Omaha, he probably was a descendant from the Cruzatte family who were early settlers of St. Louis. Obviously his father had lived among the Omaha at an early date. He enlisted with Lewis and Clark on May 16, 1804. Pierre had formerly been a trader on the Missouri for the Chouteaus before enlisting. He could speak the Omaha language and was skilled in sign-talk, so was of valuable assistance to the captains at the Indian councils and encounters with the tribes on the lower Missouri. He was a small man, wiry, had but one eye and was nearsighted. He was called "St. Peter" by the men as a nickname. Like the other regular men, he was awarded extra pay and a land grant after the expedition's return. He was killed by 1825-1828.
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The Personnel of the Lewis and Clark Expedition-- Private Pierre Cruzatte
If you’ve spent much time running rivers, you know what it feels like to come upon a new rapid that pushes you to the edge (and maybe a little beyond) of your ability. Imagine yourself, then, with William Clark as he scouted the Dalles of the Columbia River on October 24, 1805. Bear in mind that when the Corps of Discovery first entered the Columbia they measured its width at almost a thousand yards.
. . . here a tremendious black rock Presented itself high and Steep appearing to choke up the river . . . at this place the water of this great river is compressed into a Chanel between two rocks not exceeding forty five yards wide and continues for 1/4 of a mile when it again widens to 200 yards and continues this width for about 2 miles when it is again intersepted by rocks . . .
With Clark was the Corps’ principal “waterman,” Peter Crusatt. They both agreed: “by good Stearing we could pass down Safe.” The men who couldn’t swim well carried the guns, ammunition, and journals around the Dalles on foot. The rest paddled their dugout ponderosa pine canoes into what Clark described as “this agitated gut Swelling, boiling & whorling in every direction which from the top of the rock did not appear as bad as when I was in it . . .” The first two boats made it in good shape, to the “astonishment” of the Indians watching the spectacle. The good swimmers walked back up to float the rest through. The third filled with water, causing a delay of several hours while its baggage was dried. “The last Canoe,” Clark wrote, “Came over well[,]which to me was truly gratifying.”
Pierre Cruzatte’s place in history is unique and enviable: lead boatman on the Lewis and Clark Expedition. As bowman on the lead pirogue, Cruzatte “read” the rivers, searching for hazards and for the eddies that made upstream travel easier. When most of the other boatmen had been paid off and sent back down the Missouri from Ft. Mandan, Cruzatte proceeded on. The son of a French father and Omaha tribe mother, Cruzatte joined the Corps of Discovery as a private on May 16, 1804, at St. Charles, Missouri. He knew the Missouri and the tribes who lived along the river, having spent several years as a trader. And he played the violin. His comrades, who had nicknamed Cruzatte “St. Peter,” listened and danced, a performance that delighted Indian people from the Missouri to the Pacific and back.
On the lower Missouri, Lewis and Clark sent Cruzatte as an emissary to invite the Otoes and Omahas to their first formal parley with the United States. And his knowledge of the Omaha tongue may have prevented a disaster. During the last week of September, 1804, the Corps arrived at the Teton Sioux villages near present Pierre, South Dakota. They had been warned about the Tetons, a large and aggressive tribe who considered themselves masters of the Missouri. A large war party of Teton warriors had recently raided the Omahas, killing over seventy people and capturing dozens more. The officers allowed Cruzatte to distribute some awls, needles, and other small items among the Omaha captives, who told him that the Tetons intended to prevent the Expedition from continuing up the river. That did not occur, of course, but the Corps were on their guard.
In May, 1805, it was in Cruzatte’s boat that Toussaint Charbonneau was manning the rudder when a sudden gust of wind turned the pirogue broadside in the Missouri River. As the boat filled with water and Sacagawea recovered floating baggage, Cruzatte shouted at Charbonneau to turn the boat into the wind. Finally, Cruzatte’s threat to shoot Charbonneau brought him to his senses and he did what was necessary with the tiller. It was not the last time Cruzatte would be involved in a potentially life-threatening accident.
One of the more important decisions of the Lewis and Clark Expedition was made when the Corps of Discovery reached the mouth of the Marias River in June, 1805. Which was the true Missouri? Parties explored both rivers and came back to report. Pierre Cruzatte, lead boatman, had made up his mind. As Lewis recorded it in his journal, “Cruzatte, who . . . from his integrity, knowledge, and skill as a waterman had acquired the confidence of the . . . party[,] declared it as his opinion that the [Marias] was the true genuine Missouri.” The Corps stood behind Cruzatte, with two exceptions: Lewis and Clark. The officers were proven right several days later when the Corps came upon the Great Falls of the Missouri, a scenic wonder and logistical nightmare Indians had warned them about.
The incident for which Cruzatte is most known occurred on the return trip. Lewis and Cruzatte had stopped to hunt elk on a “thick willow bar” along the Missouri. Cruzatte wounded an elk. Both men went into the willows after it. Lewis, in his own words, “was in the act of firing on the elk . . . when a ball struck my left thye about an inch below my hip joint, missing the bone it passed through the left thye and cut the thickness of the bullet across the hinder part of the right thye.”
Because Cruzatte’s vision was poor and Lewis was wearing leather clothing, the captain’s first thought was that Cruzatte had mistaken him for the elk and accidentally shot him. Lewis called out, “Damn you! You have shot me!” Cruzatte suddenly faced humankind’s oldest ethical dilemma. When you make a bad mistake [and shooting your captain in the rear qualifies], do you confess and seek forgiveness, or do you keep your mouth shut and hope they don’t find out? Cruzatte heard Lewis call his name at the top of his voice several times. He remained silent. Supposing Cruzatte to be out of his hearing and that the shot had come from some other weapon, Lewis naturally assumed: Indians! Perhaps Blackfoot warriors seeking vengeance?
Lewis ran for the boat. He still called out to Cruzatte, but now it was a warning, not a curse. It occurred to him that Cruzatte may have already been captured or murdered. When he came within sight of the boat, he called to the men there to come and find the Indians. Unable to continue, Lewis returned to the boat and with his rifle, pistol, and airgun prepared “to sell my life as dearly as possible.” Twenty minutes later the men returned with Cruzatte. No Indians. Cruzatte “declared if he had shot me it was not his intention.” And no, he hadn’t heard Lewis calling to him. With Sgt. Gass’s help, Lewis dressed his wounds. Although the wound bled severely, Lewis was relieved to discover that the ball had touched neither bone nor artery.
This incident was raised several months later in an odd postscript to the Expedition. When Lewis learned that Gass would be publishing his journal before he and Clark could prepare theirs for printing, he rather churlishly warned the public of “unauthorized” and “spurious” works that may appear before his “genuine work” could be published. Lewis’s remarks provoked the following response from Gass’s editor, David McKeehan:
“I . . . conclude with congratulating you that Mr. Gass’s Journal did not fall into the hands of some wag, who might have insinuated that your wound was not accidental, but that it was the consequence of design . . .that the young hero might not return without more scars (if not honorable, near the place of honour) to excite the curiosity and compassion of some favorite widow . . .”
Concerning the man who inflicted the scars, history has little more to add. When Clark compiled his list of Corps members in the late 1820s, Cruzatte was among those listed as dead.
ONE EYED FIDDLER Lyrics and Music by David Dean White Copyright 2003 All Rights Reserved Key D D Hey Pierre! Play us a song A We worked so hard all day long D Hey Pierre! Rosin up your bow A Will hop and sing Doe See Doe D Hey Pierre! Give us a tune A D Will dance till dark and howl at the moon Chorus: G The sound of the fiddle and the tambourine D Makes us glad and breaks the routine G We clap our hands and dance along D A D Let’s raise our voice and sing this song Repeat (verses) Repeat (Chorus) Instrumental Break Repeat (verses) (Chorus) X2 (Fade)