THOMAS' RESPONSIBILITY—JOURNEY TO WISCONSIN—DISAPPOINTMENT—A NEW HOME SOUGHT—STRENUOUS LIFE—KNEE INJURED—INTENSE SUFFERING—GIVEN UP TO DIE—STIMULATING VISION—BIRTH OF A DAUGHTER—NOVEL RUNAWAY—REMEDY FOR HIS LAMENESS—SUNDRY EFFORTS TO EARN A LIVING—CHINCH BUGS THREATEN DESTRUCTION OF CROP—CROP SAVED BY INSPIRATION.

THOMAS felt keenly his responsibility, in being left at the age of twenty-one without earthly father and mother to appeal to for counsel, in being the only male member of his parents' kindred upon whom the duty rested of redeeming the dead, and in being so far separated from the body of the Saints, with a wife and sister to care for, without home of his own, and living in a city where death was stalking abroad and smiting his victims by the thousand. The prospect, though gloomy, only filled him with a determination to be faithful.

In October, 1853, Thomas and his wife and her parents left St. Louis to locate at Baraboo, in Wisconsin, where, they had been informed, land and stock were abundant, and could be had on easy terms. They expected to go up the river by steamboat to Galena, but on reaching Keokuk, Iowa, the water was found to be too shallow to float the boat, and the freight was transferred to flat boats, and hauled up to Montrose, opposite Nauvoo. But the boat, thus lightened, was three days getting over the rapids, and the passengers were without shelter and suffered from cold. On reaching Galena they hired teams to convey them to Baraboo, and when they arrived at that place they found they had been deceived in regard to it, as there was neither land nor stock to be had; the soil was very poor and the residents couldn't sell what little they did raise.

Thomas had spent his savings in getting there, and saw no chance of earning more. Having an acquaintance living at Hebron, one hundred miles south of Baraboo, he proceeded thither by stage, and, finding he could secure work there at splitting rails, he hired a man and team to go with him to Baraboo and bring his folks back. They arrived at Hebron just before Christmas, bought forty acres of land on time, and started in to earn a livelihood. He had not only his wife and sister to provide for, but his wife's parents and their family of six members relied upon him for protection and guidance at least if not for actual support. The weather was much of the time unfavorable for work, and the work—chopping and splitting large timber, and clearing land—new and strange to him, so that he not only felt it severely, but the family had little to subsist upon, and found it necessary to eke out an existence by using bran and shorts for food, catching fish, or killing an occasional squirrel.

The hardships and privations they endured during the first year or two of their life in Wisconsin were such as to try their very souls, and Brother Briggs pays a grateful tribute to his wife by recording the fact that she never once murmured. He was young and strong and full of endurance, and able to work almost night and day, and cared nothing for himself, his only concern being for those dependent upon him.

On the 13th of September, 1854, his first child was born—Ephraim, who brought cheer to the hearts of his parents, and as they became more used to their surroundings they felt more reconciled, and indulged in the hope of soon acquiring enough means to take them to the mountains. They bought another forty acres of land on time, and Thomas spent every hour that he could spare, when not working for others, at fencing and improving his own property.

While so engaged, in the fall of 1855, he hurt his knee very severely, when working in the timber, and, thinking it was only a temporary hurt, and not caring to worry his wife about it, he said nothing about it until the pain became so intense he could bear it in silence no longer. A doctor was sent for, and he prescribed for him, but no relief resulted from his treatment. He was told that an abscess was forming on the knee joint, and he could hope for no relief until it would burst. The limb continued to swell four or five weeks until it was larger in circumference than his body, and the pain almost drove him to distraction. His wife was almost worn out in caring for him, and his own prayers seemed of no avail. Most thoroughly and sincerely did he regret and repent of having wandered away from the Saints, where those bearing the Priesthood might have rendered him assistance.

Finally the abscess burst, and the discharge from it saturated the bed and ran down upon the floor. He was so weak and helpless that the only way those surrounding him could tell that he still lived, was by holding a mirror over his face, and watching upon it the effects of his breath. However, he continued to live, and in course of time to show a slight improvement.

In May, 1856, however, he had a relapse, and the doctor was hastily sent for. He attended him for several days and then declared he could do nothing more for him; he could not possibly recover, and he could not last more than a few days.

After the doctor had gone the patient dosed off for a few moments, and when he awoke he saw his wife standing by his bedside with tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Rallying his slight remaining strength, he said: "Ann, dry your tears, for I am going to live to go to the mountains, and shall there build a large house."

It was thought at first that he was delirious, and little credence was given to what he said, but later on he repeated the declaration and explained that the mountains and valley had passed before his mind in vision and he had seen the very place where his home was to be, and the spirit bore testimony to him that he would live to realize it. He was not shown what he would have to endure before the vision would be realized, but the assurance had a stimulating effect upon him.

A slight improvement was soon noticeable in the sick man, and by the 30th of June, 1856, he was able to be carried to the home of his father-in-law. His leg was still discharging, and there were nine holes just above the knee; the limb was also crooked, and the cords so rigid that it was feared he would never be able to straighten it again, even if he were permitted to recover.

Under these circumstances, and while his wife was weak and careworn after her long and anxious siege of watching over him day and night, and without proper nourishment or comfortable surroundings, she gave birth July 1, 1856, to Emma her second child, and, to the surprise of all concerned, she and the babe got along wonderfully well; which was a proof to the household that the Lord had not forgotten them.

On the 3rd of July, 1856, after Thomas had been taken back home, and when he was barely able to sit up, his father-in-law called and announced that he was going to town (Whitewater) the next day, to see his daughters, who were in service there. Thomas expressed a desire to go with him, as he was anxious to see his sister, who was also working there. Their only means of conveyance was an ordinary dump cart, drawn by a yoke of steers. A start was made the next morning, Thomas lying upon a mattress in the cart, and the father-in-law driving. Thomas fainted twice from pain before they had proceeded far, and each time, after he had been revived, the proposition was made to return home with him, but he was determined to proceed, and they continued on. His sister was overjoyed at seeing him, and arranged with the family she was working for to return with him, for a short visit. On the return journey the steers became frightened and ran away, and Father Kirkham, thinking he could outrun them, jumped off the cart and tried to get ahead of them, to stop them, but was soon left far in the rear. The end gate was lost in the race, and Thomas, lying upon the mattress, slid backward, and would have fallen out had not his sister, who was seated beside him, gripped the front of the cart with one hand and Thomas' collar by the other, and thus held him. After running frantically quite a long distance, the steers were finally stopped by a man who was along the road in front of them. The incident ended without any serious results, but it was a narrow escape for Thomas, who was as helpless, bodily, as a child, and who was partially hanging from the cart when it came to a halt. He couldn't help feeling that the devil was trying to execute his threat against him, and that a higher power had preserved him.

From that time his improvement was more rapid, although there were seven or eight running sores on his leg, and they kept him very weak. When he was able to hobble about on crutches, he used to have to carry his leg in a sling, suspended from his shoulder. When the limb hung down without a sling, it was so far from being straight that the toes were fully six inches from the ground, and the leg was much more painful than when suspended. How, under such circumstances, he was ever going to support his family, to say nothing of going to Utah, was beyond his power to foresee, and had it not been for the heavenly assurance he had received he would probably have lost hope.

About that time he met a man who claimed to be skilled in the art of healing, who prescribed certain herbs for his use, and told him to fill a bottle with angle worms and stand it in the sunlight until the worms turned to oil, and then rub the oil on his leg. He followed the directions, and his leg and health improved. After a few months he could touch the toes of his lame limb to the ground, and dispense with the bandages and sling.

The family removed to a stone quarry, and his wife boarded the men employed there at $10.00 per month each, and the family lived upon such scraps as were left from the boarders' table. Thomas was ambitious to do something, and tried sawing wood, at 75c per cord, and, though the exertion made his leg pain him much worse, he persevered, his wife quitting her housework from time to time to do the lifting for him, as he couldn't do it himself. Then he tried driving team to haul wood for a lime kiln. The men who accompanied him had to lift him on and off the wagon, as well as to load and unload the wagon for him, but this they did out of sheer sympathy for him.

In the spring of 1858 he moved back to the farm which he had lost, through sickness, the owner being willing to let the family occupy the house, and pay his wife for boarding men he employed at farming, while Thomas fed the pigs and did odd jobs.

On the 15th of September, his third child, David, was born. The larger the family grew the less likely it really seemed to be that they would ever reach the mountains, but Thomas fondly clung to the promises made him, that he should do so, and his faith in the Lord never wavered.

In the fall of the year he bought a span of horses and wagon, and spent the winter hauling wood into Whitewater, buying it for $1.00 per cord and selling it for $2.50 or $3.00. His leg was still very painful, but he could not content himself to be idle. In the spring of 1859 he obtained considerable employment on the roads, working poll tax for people who were too busy to work it out for themselves, getting $2.25 per day for himself and team. He also secured the privilege of cultivating a three-acre patch of a large farm, the owner of which was willing that he should have all he could raise on it. He planted it to corn, and raised 200 bushels to the acre, which, although corn was very cheap, insured them against want for bread and provided feed for the animals.

In the spring of 1861 he rented nine acres of land, and sowed it to wheat, with a fervent hope that if the Lord favored him with a good crop on it, he would be able, with what he had already saved up, to journey to the mountains.

On the 6th of April, that same year, his fourth child, Mary Ann, was born. She was welcomed as the others had been, notwithstanding the increased number it involved for the prospective overland journey.

The wheat planted grew well, and promised a heavy yield, but one morning it was noticed that numerous black bugs, called the chinch bug, had begun to devour the grain, or rather suck the sap from the stalks just as they were heading out, and it looked as if the next few days would witness the total destruction of the crop. One of the strange things about it was, that his seemed to be the only field in that vicinity that was affected with the bugs. While contemplating the shattering of his hopes, the Spirit of the Lord prompted him to go to the man who was working the other part of the farm and borrow a cradle (the best implement used at that time to cut grain with,) and cut a swath through the grain with it. He had an assurance that this would have the effect of stopping the ravages of the bugs.

He immediately went to the man and told him what he intended to do, and the man laughed at him, and told him it was a foolish notion. After some pleading and persuasion, however, the man took his cradle and cut a swath through the field, Thomas (whom the man evidently regarded as slightly demented) following along after him.

After the man had gone, Thomas knelt and offered up a silent prayer to the Lord, telling him that he had acted according to the promptings of His Spirit, and that he would leave the result with Him.

On his return he told his wife of the presence of the bugs in their wheat field, and what he had done. She felt very sorrowful, knowing that the habit of the bugs was, when they commenced on a field, never to leave it until it was completely destroyed, but he assured her that the crop would be saved.

The next morning Thomas hitched up his team, and, taking his son Ephraim, who was then seven years old, with him, drove up to the field. When he arrived there he was astonished to find that the road bordering his field fairly swarmed with bugs, that were making their way to a wheat field on the opposite side, and that the swath that had been cut through the field was covered with millions of the insects, that seemed to travel as if they were inspired. The field they entered was just about ready to ripen, and before the advent of the bugs, gave promise to yield forty bushels to the acre, but a few days later the forty-acre field was completely destroyed. The owner was so disgusted that he later set fire to the straw which was left standing, and thus cleared the land; and the language in which he denounced Thomas and the bugs was simply awful. Still he acknowledged, and so did many others, that there was something marvelous about the saving of one crop and destruction of the other.

Thomas wished his neighbor no harm, but he acknowledged the power of the Lord in what had occured. When his wheat was ready to cut, his leg was so much worse that he was not able to stand on it. Hired help was so scarce and hard to obtain that it seemed doubtful whether he would be able to save his crop after all. He finally induced the former who cultivated the adjoining land to cradle it, a little at a time, while the boy Ephraim raked it into bundles, and Thomas crawled on his hands and knees, and bound it. When threshed, the wheat yielded twenty-five bushels to the acre. He was gratified with the result of his summer's work, felt that the Lord had greatly blessed him and had strong hopes of being able to migrate to Utah in the following spring.