One hundred years ago, this whole region, west of the Alleghanies,
was an unexplored and an unknown wilderness. Its silent rivers, its
forests, and its prairies were crowded with game. Countless Indian
tribes, whose names even had never been heard east of the
Alleghanies, ranged this vast expanse, pursuing, in the chase, wild
beasts scarcely more savage than themselves.

The origin of these Indian tribes and their past history are lost in
oblivion. Centuries have come and gone, during which joys and
griefs, of which we now can know nothing, visited their humble
lodges. Providence seems to have raised up a peculiar class of men,
among the descendants of the emigrants from the Old World, who,
weary of the restraints of civilization, were ever ready to plunge
into the wildest depths of the wilderness, and to rear their lonely
huts in the midst of all its perils, privations, and hardships.

This solitary family of the Crocketts followed down the northwestern
banks of the Hawkins River for many a weary mile, until they came to
a spot which struck their fancy as a suitable place to build their
Cabin. In subsequent years a small village called Rogersville was
gradually reared upon this spot, and the territory immediately
around was organized into what is now known as Hawkins County. But
then, for leagues in every direction, the solemn forest stood in all
its grandeur. Here Mr. Crockett, alone and unaided save by his wife
and children, constructed a little shanty, which could have been but
little more than a hunter's camp. He could not lift solid logs to
build a substantial house. The hard-trodden ground was the only
floor of the single room which he enclosed. It was roofed with bark
of trees piled heavily on, which afforded quite effectual protection