Old Missoula

 

Introduction to Charles Schafft – A Beguiling Missoula Pioneer/Writer/Soldier/Historian/Mullan Road Builder

Following is an introduction to one of Missoula’s most fascinating pioneers, Charles Schafft. He arrived in the Missoula area while working with the famed Mullan Expedition and lived there on and off until his death. He was a gifted writer and chronicler of several aspects of Missoula and Montana history, yet, for some reason, he has escaped the notice that he deserves. He wrote articles that appeared in a few of the territory’s early newspapers. Some of his work can be found under his given name while other tracts appeared under his initials only, or under acronyms that are not always easy to recognize. Most often his writing is clearly recognizable given its clarity and wit. Beginning with this tract, you will find his long personal narrative which, thankfully, survived.

First an obituary:

Death of A Missoula Pioneer – 1891.

Charles Schafft, a Well – Known Missoulian Passes Away

Charles Schafft died Thursday at 5 o’clock at his rooms on Higgins avenue, of pneumonia. He had been ill for several months, but was supposed to be convalescing.

Biographical – [From Missoula Weekly Gazette 1891]

Charles Schafft came to Montana from Walla Walla in the fall of 1861 as a clerk with what was known as the Captain Mullan United States Military road expedition. During the winter of 1861-2 he was employed as a clerk at the mouth of the Blackfoot by W. J. Terry, sutler to the expedition, which was encamped that winter on the plateau just east of where the railroad bridge now stands. During the winter he had a disagreement with the clerk in charge during Terry’s absence, and left the encampment. He started up the canyon toward the camp of a party engaged in making one of the large grades, and the weather being very cold and the snow very deep, froze both of his feet, finally reaching the camp on his hands and knees. He was brought back to the camp of the expedition, where Dr. Hammond, assistant United States army surgeon, amputated both his legs below the knees. He remained there until the camp broke up in May, when he was carried in a hand litter by a detachment of soldiers to St. Ignatius mission. There he remained for a year or more. After that he was employed by Major Hutchins, the Indian agent at Flathead agency, and several of his successors, and being thoroughly familiar with the system of keeping quartermaster’s accounts as well as those of Indian agents, his services were invaluable. Subsequently he made a trip into the British possessions to a place known as Hoopuy, near where Fort Mcleod now stands. He remained there and at Fort Benton a year or more and then returned to Missoula. He was afterwards again employed by the Indian agents, and since has been in charge chiefly in the business of abstracts of title of Judge Stephens in his large land-law practice. In both these capacities he developed great aptitude.

Mr. Schafft was the first appointed as well as the first elected county clerk and recorder of Missoula county under the Montana territorial organization, having been appointed in 1864 and elected at the first election in the fall of the same year. This position he resigned in February 1865.

Mr. Schafft was a native of Berlin on the Spree, Germany, and at the time of his death was between 55 and 60 years of age. He had been a drummer boy in one of the infantry regiments of the regular army and for some time was stationed with his regiment at San Diego, California. After his discharge he came to Montana. Deceased was unmarried, very popular and leaves a lot of friends.

Mr. Schafft’s funeral will took take place from the undertaking parlors of Bradley & Lucy Friday afternoon at 3 o’clock. Rev. Lamont officiating.

The above is an obituary from The Missoula Weekly Gazette on March 25, 1891.

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Below is a transcribed autobiography from Charles Schafft that was allegedly discovered after his death in Missoula. Copies of this document are currently held by the Montana Historical Society. Other examples of his writing will be presented later.

Sketch of a Life

I was born in Berlin, Prussia, on the 25^th day of June 1838. My father, a merchant, left for the U. S. when I was but two years old, and my early training was under the care of a mother only. I commenced going to school at the age of five, and my first real experience was the breaking out of the revolution on Wednesday, March 18, 1848. Berlin was then a walled town, with gates at intervals, and we resided outside the city limits. On this day an elder brother and myself were returning from drawing school, and as we approached the gate, a barricade was being raised in front of it; the mob, merely out of a joke, made us pack a few paving stones before we were permitted to pass out.

After peace was restored I attended school until the fall of 1849, when I was sent to join my father, who was now an importer of liquors and fancy groceries in William Street, New York. I remained with him for several years, but not liking the business, I was permitted to select a trade and apprenticed myself to a jeweler’s firm.

The concern soon went bankrupt, and I skipped out and managed to get enlisted in the U. S. Army as a learning musician. This was on the 9^th of April, 1853, and I was fitted for duty at Fort Columbus, Governor’s Island, N. Y. Harbor. In December the same year a lot of us boys were assigned to join the 4^th Infantry in Oregon, and we were to travel with the 3^rd Regt. of Artillery then already embarked on the Steamship “San Francisco” for California. The voyage was to be made around Cape Horn, but during the holidays we were completely wrecked off Cape Hatteras and there was much loss of life. Several vessels coming to our rescue, I with others was taken off on board an English ship, the “Three Bells,” and returned in January 1854, to New York.

Headquarters of the 3^rd Artillery were established on Bedloe’s Island, and I was assigned to Maj. Robt. Anderson’s Co. “G” of this regiment in place of one of the two musicians drowned. When the regiment was recruited up again, four companies, mine included, were embarked on the steamer “Falcon” in April bound for California via the Isthmus. The ship foundered off the Virginia Coast and we were taken off in lighters and landed at Fort Monroe. We remained there till the latter part of May when we were taken aboard the Steamship “Illinois” and safely conveyed to Aspinvall. The Isthmus was crossed on mule back and on the other side the Steamship “Sonora” took us up and we reached San Diego, California in June. There we were quartered at the old Mission till the Spring of 1855, when my company was ordered on escort duty on the preliminary Southern Pacific Railroad survey in charge of Lieut. (now General) John G. Parke.

We traveled up the coast to the Tejon Pass, thence back to San Diego, thence East through Arizona to Donna Anna in New Mexico where the escort was dismissed and we returned to San Diego in December. Early in 1856, owing to Indian troubles among the Colorado River Indians, we were ordered to Fort Yuma, where I served the balance of my time and was honorably discharged in April, 1858.

I came to San Francisco while the Frazer River excitement was running high and determined to go to the new mines. On board the Steamer “Columbia” I met Lieut. John Mullan and he promising to give me employment on his Military Road Expedition, I stopped at Portland, Oregon.

The expedition organized at the Dalles, but only advanced as far as the mouth of Two-Cannon on Snake River, when the uprising of the Palouse Indians and defeat of Col. Steptoe put a stop to it, and I returned to Oregon, spending the winter in teaching a writing school in the Willamette Valley. Lieut. Mullan organized again in 1859 and I attached myself to his military escort at Fort Vancouver in May.

Part of the escort was my own old company, and being well acquainted with the officers, Lieut. Lyon, the quartermaster, employed me as a commissary herder to drive and herd the beef cattle going with the expedition. I served in this capacity until winter quarters were established in December at Cantonment Jordan on the Regis Borgia in Missoula County.

Having driven the few cattle that had not perished to the Bitter Root River, four of us determined to return to Walla Walla. Crossing the summit of the mountains over seven feet of snow, we wended our way down the Coeur d’Alene River, where the road from N – – – Prairie (then called Long Prairie) to Mud Prairie was strewn with the carcasses of a hundred pack mules and the packs of the perished animals had carried, all of the property belonging to the unfortunate sutlers to the expedition (Friedman & McClinchy) who had started too late in the season and too heavily loaded.

We arrived at the Coeur d’Alene Mission during the holidays, and it being impossible to travel back over our own road on account of ice in the St. Joe Valley, we shaped our course for the Spokane, which we reached in a few days. One of the party, Henry Williams (better known as “Handsome Harry” killed in the fall of 1863 on Rattlesnake Creek, near Missoula) remained here and we other three continued down the river with the hope of being able to cross it on the Colville road. Two days hard work failed to get the boat through the ice and we were compelled to spend the winter partly on Walker’s Prairie and partly near Fort Colville.

It was while rambling around this country that I met the first white women that came through this Territory, Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Tom Brown (a sketch of which written by me for the Benton Record in 1880 over the signature of X, and a correct copy of which will be found in the History of Montana.

Early in March, 1860, I travelled alone and afoot to Walla Walla, thence down the Columbia River trail to the Dalles, and thence per steamer to Portland and remained employed at farm work in the Willamette Valley until July, 1861, then I turned cowboy and helped to drive a band of cattle across the Cascade Range over the old Barlow Road near the foot of Mt. Hood. Arriving at Walla Walla, I was employed by Wm. J. Terry, sutler to the Mullan expedition (then again at work in the Coeur d’Alenes) to go out and join the expedition as one of his clerks. Serving in that capacity, I remained until winter quarters had been built at Cantonment “Jordan” [Cantonment Wright] on the bluff near the junction of the Big Blackfoot with the Hell Gate River, and sometime afterwards.

Late in December some horses were stolen and the thieves had passed up the river to Deer Lodge Valley. It was desirable to arrest them, and three of us, Wm. Roland (since gone mad), J. Grandmaison (murdered in the Bitter Root Valley a few years ago) and myself (since crippled) volunteered to go after and received authority from Lt. Mullan to capture them. We caught the first one (Butler) on Johnny Grant’s ranch, near the mouth of the Little Blackfoot and the other one (Williams) on Cottonwood Creek near the present site of Deer Lodge City; this was on Christmas eve. On the following day we took dinner on our return with the Stuart boys on Gold Creek, and finally delivered our prisoners to Lt. Mullan, who caused them to be chained together and put to work on the Blackfoot bridge the balance of the winter. This was probably the first arrest within the Territory and hence I mention it.

On the 8^th day of January 1862 I started, for a permanent stay, to Deer Lodge – alone and afoot. A few official letters had been entrusted to me but I was not in Government employ. About 20 miles up the Canyon at the “Rocky Grade” I was snowbound in a soldier’s working camp until the 15^th. On the morning of that day I proceeded onwards through light feathery snow nearly three feet deep and too light to bear snow-shoes.

Crossing the Hell Gate on the ice near the site of McCarty’s bridge, I took a direct course over Medicine Tree Hill, and having descended again to the bottom I broke through the ice into a slough. After this I had hard work (owing to snow sticking to the wet clothes) to reach the river bank where I could obtain wood to make a fire. It was now evening and I had only made twelve miles since daylight.

The cold was becoming intense (the thermometer registered 40 below zero this night) and the prospect of the timberless Flint Creek hills on ahead discouraged me. So having dried my clothes and it being useless to remain in camp without bedding, I concluded to return and arrived again on the bank of the Hell Gate crossing about midnight. Water had weakened the ice where I crossed in the morning, and I had to walk up and down before a small fire to keep from freezing and until the ice should be strong enough to bear me.

After two or three hours I crossed over and hoped to reach the soldier camp without accident. Slowly I plodded through the snow, really feeling warm, yet not knowing that my feet were freezing all the time. The intense cold acting on the trees made them give reports like pistol shots in all directions. The timber wolves were howling dismally and altogether it was not a very pleasant situation.

At daylight I discovered that both my feet were frozen solidly up to the ankle joint where the moccasin strings were tied and I had yet four miles to make and partly along the side of a steep hill, but got into the camp at 8 o’clock in the morning. The usual cold water and salt remedy was at once applied and the feet thawed out but here our medical knowledge ceased, or else they could easily have been saved. Before a messenger returned from headquarters with medicines and advice, mortification had already set in. Upon learning this fact, Lt. Mullan sent several citizen volunteers and a detail of soldiers to bring me in a sled to the hospital (David O’Keefe was one of the volunteers). It took three days to make the journey of twenty miles, sometimes all hands taking hold of the ropes.

Arrived in camp, Dr. Geo. Hammond was snowed in up the Bitter Root at Fort Owen, and more than a week was lost before he could be brought in, and when he came my case was hopeless. Being too weak to be performed upon at once, the inevitable operation was delayed until the 7^th and 8^th of March, when both of my legs were successfully amputated within six inches of the knee joints and I was henceforth a cripple.

On the 21^st of May the expedition broke camp, some to go to the States via Benton and the Missouri River and others to return to Walla Walla. I was in no condition to be carried in any kind of wheeled vehicle and was about to be left in camp with a guard of soldiers until I should be able to move or die (the latter was expected by the Doctor and the men) when Father Joseph Menetery came to the rescue and offered to take care of me if I could be transported to St. Ignatius Mission. Both he and Lt., now Captain, Mullan, stood by my bedside and we talked over the plans.

Captain Mullan had done everything possible for me as also had the other officers and members of the expedition. It was decided to convey me to the Mission. A litter was constructed and six soldiers accompanied by a hospital steward carried me over there under many difficulties, and it was a severe three days journey. (I wish here to remark, against general opinion, that I had not tasted a drop of liquor from the 8^th of January until the 7^th of March, when it was necessary to stimulate me. I was as sober in the night when I froze my feet as ever I was in my life).

Under the constant and kind attention of the Jesuit Fathers (especially my physician Father Urbanus Grassi) I recovered and left the bed for the first time in October. It did not take very long to learn how to get around on my knees so that I could render some slight service and amuse myself by painting pictures in oils of the Virgin Mary and some of the Saints.

In October, 1863, I was quite lively again and was requested by Agent Copeland Townsend to remain at the Flathead Agency over winter and take care of the Government property there, and there I stayed accompanied only by a small half-breed boy. It was the winter of the Road Agents and Vigilantes. I had some unpleasant but harmless visits from some of the former and felt relieved when early in 1864 Father Ravalli arrived in the depth of night and informed me that they had all been hung a few hours ago at Hell Gate and neighborhood.

In July 1864 I was relieved of my charge by the arrival of Agent Charles Hutchins with a full force of employes, but remained in his service as clerk until Sept. 1865.

In February 1865 Governor Sidney Edgerton appointed me County Clerk and Justice of the Peace for Missoula County. I was elected to both offices at the first general election. This necessitated my removal to the County seat at Hell Gate, and the Clerk’s office was established at the back office of a butcher shop amongst grease and tallow. The town of Missoula was just beginning to show signs of life this fall. A store and several other buildings had been put up and the removal of most of the houses from Hell Gate to that point made it an established fact before winter. By a petition of about 20 citizens and the vote of the Commissioners, the County seat was removed there also, and I in partnership with a now prominent lawyer built a house there (yet standing adjoining Plummer & Hayes stable). In December this year Mat Craft was shot by Tom Hagerty within six feet of me.

My office did not pay. There were no taxes collected, but very few records to be made, a justice of the peace had but little business, and difficulties were settled by arbitration or otherwise. Expenses of living were high. No one wanted to be Deputy Recorder and I returned to Hell Gate with a mere handful of books to await a chance to resign. In February, 1866, my resignation was accepted and Frank Woody became my successor.

While in the act of turning the records over to him at the Hell Gate Hotel, a man named J. P. Shockley committed suicide in the adjoining room from some unknown cause.

This winter of 1865 – 1866 was nearly as hard a one as that of 1861 – 1862, and when I left for the Agency on the 22^nd of February, it took three days to get there on account of snow and ice. In 1866 I acted as clerk to Agent Augustus Chapman, successor to Hutchins, and in October made a personal acquaintance of General Meagher, who was then taking his “Rides through Montana.”

The winter of 1866 – 1867, and also part of the following summer, I passed with Father Ravalli in the old Hell Gate Mission. The father was not so well cared for in those days as he was in later years. Most of the fresh meat that graced our table were muskrats which the Father dressed himself and which were shot almost daily in the adjoining sloughs by one of his patients (Alexander Lecompte) and the Father was often faint for want of suitable food, although he was as zealous, kind and obliging, even mending old, dirty tin kettles, pans, etc., that were brought to him to repair.

This year I was clerically employed by Agent Wells, successor to Chapman, and obtained my first pair of artificial limbs from Philadelphia at a cost of $300.00.

During 1868 and part of 1869 I was in service of Woodward, Clements & Co. (Hell Gate merchants) as their bookkeeper, and also done the clerical work of Major W. J. McCormick, who had succeeded John W. Wells as Indian Agent. In 1869 W. C. & Co. closed up business and in July I started for Portland to accept a position there with one of the partners (L. H. Wakefield) who had been appointed Postmaster in that city . . . Business of every kind was dull. The Union Pacific R.R., just about completed, had taken most of the mountain trade, and I was required to wait three or four weeks until the new officer was better initiated in the business.

Becoming lonesome I concluded to leave and took passage per stage and partly by railroad overland to Sacramento, California, a journey of 8 days and nights. Getting out of the cars there I found the fare to New York reduced to $50.00 second class, and after three or four days meditation I concluded to go to New York, a trip which lasted 9 days. Thence I took passage per steamer to Germany and arrived in Berlin after an absence of 20 years to find my mother and only brother alive and well. (My father had died in San Francisco in 1855). Soon becoming tired of doing nothing, I sought and found employment, as assistant draughtsman, in the machine and engine works of Schwarzkopff & Co. in Berlin. Remained with them until March, 1870 – and having seen about enough of German life by this time, I desired to return to the “Wild West.”

Laying my wishes before U.S. Consul Kreisman (now Consul General) and to whom I had letters of introduction from friends in Washington, he at once procured me a cabin passage on board the steamer Ocean Queen, and I left Berlin on April 1^st and sailed from Stettin, on the Baltic, via Copenhagen and Christiansland, to the U.S. arriving in New York on the 1^st of May. Being about out of funds I had some hard times here, being even reduced to the extremity to work for a quack doctor for a few days. (My folks refused to furnish me with funds for the purpose of returning to America.)

In July I went to Philadelphia, saw there the father of my legs, Dr. B. F. Palmer, and a few days afterwards was in Washington City, meeting here Major L. L. Blake, Cavanaugh, Captain McCauley and others I felt at home. Not desiring to remain in the capital, for I was tired of civilization by this time, Major Blake’s influence caused General Myers and Barnes to furnish me transportation to Helena, Montana from where I soon reached Missoula and was heartily welcomed by old friends after an absence of just a year.

The remainder of this year and during the winter I was employed in a house on the Cedar Creek Road. During part of 1871 I done some loafing among friends but in the summer was employed at my old position at the Agency under Major Chas. L. Jones, and remained with him during all his troubles (he had been indicted by a Deer Lodge Grand Jury for counterfeiting and forgery) until January 1873. (It was during his administration in August, 1872, that General Garfield visited the agency and made the treaty for the removal of the Flathead Indians from the Bitter Root Valley.)

Agent Daniel Shanahan relieved Jones in January 1873, and I became partly guest and partly employe of Wm. Kennedy at his hotel in town. In November, Agent Shanahan requested me to take charge of the Agency during a six months absence in Washington, he having been granted a furlough, and I went back to the old place and superintended the building of a new agency, the old one having been given up to removing Flatheads.

It was in this year that the “Indian Ring” received such a terrible shock through the investigations of U.S. District Attorney Meredith C. Page and his associate, Wm. H. Claggett. Indian Inspectors had come into existence and I had to keep my eyes open day and night to keep from being surprised, and my plans were so well laid that when the Indian Inspector Dr. Daniels did come, he found everything O.K.

Shanahan returned in March of 1874, having previously handed in his resignation at the request of the Commissioner for Catholic Indian Missions, General Charles Erving. His successor, Peter Whaley, arrived in July, and I returned to Billy Kennedy at Missoula to stay only a few days because proceedings against the Indian Ring were in full blast., and as I would likely be wanted for a witness, I skipped the country and went across the “Line” to “Whoop Up” supposed to be then a resort of the most desperate characters escaped from the United States. I saw some dead bodies there, but the place was not so bad as represented.

I was there partly in charge of the principal Fort, when Col. McLeod and his 300 Mounted Police arrived from Fort Garry to subdue the outlaws and drive out the illicit traders. He came with siege guns to reduce our Fort, which had been reported in Canada to be bristling with cannon and needle guns, and he came, and found, open gates, a cripple as second in command, and six or seven peaceable looking citizens. Our only armament were (sic) two old steamboat cannon, and any amount of trade rifles, and our whiskey was cached on the bottom of the Belly River.

I did not like the country much and was glad to learn that Indian difficulties had ceased across the line, so late in November I started back for the U. S. in company of Johnny Manning, Sandy Lane and four others. On Milk River we were caught in a terrible blizzard, and further advance with wagons had to be abandoned. Three of the party started back and three of us concluded to come ahead.

A conveyance was rigged up for me, and after a most perilous journey over the trackless prairie. . . we arrived on the Marias and reached the settlement on Sun River, from where I returned to Missoula by stage to be employed as clerk again, by agent Peter Whaley. His administration did not last long, he was too honest, and his successor Charles S. Medary took charge of the agency in July, 1875.

I continued in service under the latter, who ran things completely “in the ground.” He was indicted for stealing shingles, at a December term of Deer Lodge Court, tried and acquitted. The Indians hated him so cordially that by my advice he sent a request to General Gibbon for soldiers for protection. The soldiers came and one of the officers (Lt. Fuller) seeing the state of affairs, reported the Agent and caused his removal which took place in July, 1876. His successor was Peter Ronan. From this time on my career at the agency was closed.

A quarrel with Father Van Gorp, on account of my taking the part of an obnoxious Indian Agent, had made me an unwelcome servant on the reservation ever since that agent (Daniel Shanahan) had left. In the new agent, Ronan, the Fathers found a man in perfect sympathy with themselves and affairs took a general change.

Returning to the Kennedy House, I enjoyed the Nez Perce war excitement from my standpoint as one of the clerks of that House in 1877. In 1878 I revisited my old haunts at Frenchtown and Hell Gate and remained among friends until the Spring of 1879 when I was called up by the Kleinschmidt Bros. of Helena to attend to their books.

After three months service I left for Benton and spent the balance of the season with Johnny Kennedy (brother of Wm. Kennedy) traveling over the Northern Prairies, between Benton, Fort Walsh and Woody Mountain. While on a trip to the latter place three of us had to pass through and camp in the village of Sitting Bull and his 7,000 Sioux. The village was a fine sight. It was situated on a creek called the White Muddy, and Sitting Bull had but recently been whipped and driven here by Gen. Miles, who was then encamped just across the line. We were not much molested by the renowned warriors.

Returning to Fort Benton late in December, I was at once employed on the “Benton Record” to attend the books and do the locals, and also furnish much original matter (over different initials) for the inside of the “Blanket Sheet,” and I also kept the meteorological records for the Signal Sergeant overhead.

This work lasted till June 1880 when late one night, with only 50 cents in my pocket, I stepped on board the steamer Peninah (through courtesy of the pilot) and next morning was many miles down the Missouri, bound for, I knew not where. Landing at Bismarck, I made up my mind to visit Washington, although I did not possess a nickel. A railroad official furnished me a ride to Fargo, where I was delayed 8 hours and had to make a necessary collection from two newspapers and two land offices of $4.70, half fare to St. Paul, where I arrived on the 25^th of June.

After a short visit to Fort Snelling, I called upon General Terry, and that kind gentleman not only supplied me generously with means, but also got the quartermaster to procure me a pass to Chicago. There I visited headquarters of General Sheridan (whom I had known at Fort Yamhill in Oregon) and through influence of his Aid de camp, Gen. Forsythe, obtained a quick passage to Washington, arriving there on the 4^th of July, 1880.

Here I met among other old friends, Col. A. B. Meacham of Modoc fame, made the acquaintance of the Dr. Bland, and in a few days T. A. Bland, President National Press Association, introduced me to Secretary Carl Schurz and after ½ hour conversation with the Secretary, held in the language from across the sea, to which I was almost a stranger, I was appointed in August to a clerical position on the 10^th Census of the U.S. under the superintendence of General Francis A. Walker.

In this Bureau I worked for the first three months in the Finance Division (on the night shift) until the thousands of enumerators or census takers had been settled with and paid off. I was then transferred to the “Division On Population” and here I worked, a mere machine for the next 15 months, counting and tallying day after day until the work of the division was finished, which occurred on the 4^th of February, 1882, when the entire force “on population” was dismissed with but few exceptions. In this work I had the satisfaction to be promoted twice and receive a month’s extra pay upon final settlement.

While I was in Washington some great events took place. Garfield was elected President in November, 1880. I saw him on the morning of the cold and drizzly 4^th of March, 1881, ride triumphantly to the capital by the side of President Hayes, and I saw him ride to the capital again a few months later, but this last time he was in his coffin. Those were anxious days in the Departments, from the 2^nd of July until the 19^th of September.

When free, in February, 1882, my situation was critical. Under the young and new administration every Government employe felt shaky. There were thousands of applications filed for places, mine among the number, but it required more than common influence to get in, and not possessing the friendship of our Delegate, Martin Maginnis, it was not much use to try, although my application was backed by Col. Sanders, Fisk of the Herald, Ed Ballow, Meacham, and other prominent men.

I concluded to go West again and left for St. Louis, in which muddy city I remained throughout March, during the high floods on the Mississippi. Then I left for Omaha when just then a great railroad strike was in progress, which fact was lucky for me, because the Railroad Co. needed the Military, and after I had a talk with Captain Roberts, Aide de camp to General George Crook, the general used his influence in my behalf, and the manager of the Union Pacific (Clarke) granted me a pass to the end of the line at Butte City. Arrived there I was among generous friends.

A few days later I was in Deer Lodge, and came there in the ambulance with General Penrose and his lady to Missoula. Having been away from this place for nearly three years, I still found the old familiar faces and received the same warm shake of the hand, but times had changed and I was way behind. Suitable employment did not offer, and for the last five years my life has been uninteresting and precarious. Sometimes glad to take shelter among old Hell Gate friends, at others employed in responsible positions where first class work was expected, and done, and in such places a liberal salary was paid me to keep me “steady”, a salary ranging from $10.00 to $20.00 per month – a liberality so disgusting that it soon brought on rupture and dissipation.

A Jesuit father once told me that every man has his fault or failing. I have mine – a habit of drinking fire water. A habit adopted in early youth and nourished by frontier life and usage. It has led me into a great many comical adventures and some serious ones. It has also made me some enemies, but none greater than myself. I have made and found friends wherever I have been, and newspaper men and old Army officers, under whom I had served when young, have been especially kind to me.

Such is the outline of my life to the present point. The end may come now at any time; but should I discover some strange country, in a possible hereafter, and come there a stranger, flat broke and without recommendation, I will undoubtedly soon meet a friendly spirit who will ask me – to take a drink. Bass Mill on the Bitter Root. April 24, 1887.

Charles Schafft.