THOMAS THOMAS, Sr., P. O. Preston; was born in Bristol, England, County of Gloucester, May 26, 1808. His father and mother were Welsh, and removed to Cowbridge, a small inland town in Glamorganshire, South Wales, the place of their nativity. When he was a child 9 months old, he was brought up and remained in this town until he left for America on board the Nestor, of Plymouth, Capt. Smith, and set sail from Newport, in Monmouthshire, South Wales, bound for Philadelphia, and arrived there on the 1st of May, after a voyage of seven weeks. He was 22 years of age at the time; remained in Pennsylvania, and worked in the coal mines in Pottsville about three years, an employment which he had not been accustomed to follow. The mine he worked in is the one that has been on fire for the last forty years. About this time, he heard of the lead mines, in what was then called Michigan Territory; and, in company with a Mr. Williams, left Pottsville for Galena, which was what was then supposed to be the chief town in the mining district. They reacher Pittsburgh by going afoot; traveled 350 miles, averaging thirty-five miles a day. They took a steamer from Pittsburgh to Louisville, and thence to St. Louis. There they took passage on board the Winnebago, a boat that plied between St. Louis and Galena. The boat was detained by an accident to the machinery at the Rapids; and, while lying still, passing boats informed them of the Indian excitement near Galena. Part of the passengers returned; but they went on to Galena in the steamer Olive Branch, arriving there May 5. Mr. Thomas hired out to a Mr. Streeter, at $20 per month and board, to work a mine he owned on Fever River, near White Oak Springs. After he had worked three days for him, he advanced him $40, to send for his family, consisting of a wife and one child, which, with what he had left with her, was sufficient to bring them to him by stage and cabin passage. After working for Mr. Streeter awhile, he went into partnership with Morgan Lewis, a native of Wales, to pre-empt some land. He and his family and Mr. Lewis left Galena with two yoke of oxen, two cows, a plow and the necessary implements for farming purposes, with as much provision as would last them four or five months. On the road, they were informed by a Mr. Mayfield of the timber and prairie, where he now resides. As Mr. Mayfield had already claimed this land, he resigned it to them for a mere trifle. Mr. Lewis had a mortal hatred of Indians, owing to some of his friends on Fox River being killed by them. He would never give an Indian anything to eat, even if he knew that morsel would save a whole tribe from death.
     Mr. Thomas relates the following about their Indian troubles:
     "We were now among them - had cut hay and built a cabin. I treated them with civility; but Lewis was opposed to this, and frequently gave them just cause for resentment. I was gathering some withered grass that I had cut for feathers to fill a bed-tick, when an Indian accosted me, and, pointing to our cabin, put his finger to his mouth, and signified by his gestures that he wished me to give him something to eat. He stood west of me a few paces, and I, supposed that their village was at Fennimore, pointed with my pitchfork in that direction, signifying as best I could that he must go to his own wigwam for what he wanted to eat. He supposed that I threatened him with my fork, and cocked his rifle. I then stuck the fork in the ground, and went good naturedly toward him, offering him my hand, which he rejected with disdain, presenting a visage haughty and severe. He turned and left me. It was not in my nature to refuse his request, had I not been instructed by Lewis, who said that if we were kind to them once they would expect us to be so every day. I admired the haughty bearing and noble spirit of the Indian, and had a great desire to see how they lived in their villages with their families. I did not anticipate trouble on account of what had passed; did not mentioned it to Lewis, as I wished him to accompany me to their village. It was Sunday morning, and we started in search of them; but took the wrong direction. When we were returning about 5 o'clock, I made for the cabin, and Lewis for the timber, in search of the oxen. When I was about 200 yards from the house, I met the same Indian I had seen on Saturday. He face was painted black as tar. I spoke kindly to him, and he nodded, I thought, in the same kindly spirit. He took his knife from its pouch, and drew the back of it across the back of his own neck, and said in English these words, 'Squaw one papoose kill wicked Sioux!' I understood him to mean that his wife and child had been murdered by an Indian of that tribe. Just at this moment, a pig, the only one we had, ran by. He appeared excited; was about to take aim. I struck the end of the barrel gently with my hand to turn it aside from the mark. This made him mad. He stepped back a few paces, and shot the hog near the heart, and killed it! I could not help myself, so I pocketed the affront and left him. When I got to the house, I learned that he had been there the greater part of the day. He helped himself to what he wanted to eat. He had gone to the cradle several times, and appeared either to pity or admire the baby. I apprehended no danger; got something to eat, and chopped firewood till it was nearly dark, when I heard Lewis running toward the house. He at the same time gave us to understand we were about to be murdered. We were surrounded by fire and cheered by Indian yells, who were made joyful by seeing our dismay. We could see them plainly by the light of the fire they had kindled. They were may - we but two - with only one gun. The vegetation was waist high in the timber - rank and dry - there being no cattle to impede its growth, so that the fire leaped from tree to tree, and presented a picture worthy in every sense of the infernal regions. Here Lewis disappeared, and left us to what he supposed to be our fate. I would certainly have followed his example, had I been at liberty like him. He believed our case was hopeless, or he would not have acted thus, for he had in his bosom the heart of a man. In about an hour and a half from this, perhaps 12 o'clock in the night, it became evident to us that it was not the intention of the Indians to put us to death; and, supposing the fire would burn up all we had, I carried our trunks to a clear spot over which the fire had already passed unnoticed by our enemies. We shouldered the best of our clothing; tied the baby on my wife's back with a blanket, and left for Fennimore Grove, a distance of six miles. Here we found the Indians acting as they had done with us, so we started in the morning for what is now called Linden, in an ox cart. We missed the road, as it snowed about six inches, and we made our bed under the cart, and arrived at Linden about 10 o'clock in the morning."
     Mr. Thomas worked in the diggings three years; then purchased 160 acres of land, the same where he had previously lived. When he returned, he found Morgan Lewis living in the cabin where he continued to live all alone for twenty years. Mr. Thomas' children are Thomas, born in Pennsylvania and Mary Ann, Tanner, Elizabeth, Susie, Abner, Sarah, Lewis, Benjamin and Mark, all born in Wisconsin. Tanner and Lewis were in the 7th W. V. I., and belonged to the Iron Brigade. Tanner fought in every battle in which the Seventh was engaged. He re-enlisted as a veteran, and was pierced by a minie ball in the forehead, while leading Co. A in a charge at Petersburg, Va., June 18, 1864, in his 26th year. He was Second Lieutenant of Co. H, but commanded Co. A in this battle.
     Col. Finnicum in his letter on Tanner's death says:
     "As it was God's will that he should fall, his State can chronicle his name among the bravest and most devoted of her patriots, who have fallen in this mighty contest for the principles involved; and you can have the cheering intelligence that notwithstanding all the temptations of vice thrown around the soldier, he never swerved from the path of rectitude and right, and died in the Christian's hope."
     Lewis enlisted with Tanner Jan. 1, 1864, and was shot through the right lung in April, when Lee surrendered to Gen. Grant, and has a pension. The ball went clear through, within one and a quarter inches of his back bone, and he is, and will always be, troubled with his lung. Abner raised a company of 100-day men, and was Lieutenant in Memphis under Gen. Washburn.

This biography generously submitted by Roxanne Munns.