While here, I learned we were in the immediate vicinity of where Daniel Boone lived. And it was here the first settlement of Kentucky by the whites commenced. I saw the spot where he built his fort, and where he managed to resist the attacks of the Indians, who had determined to eject him from his hermitage. I also filled my canteen from Boone's Spring, so called in honor of the old hero. And as I took a draught from its clear waters, I thought how often he had visited the spot for a similar purpose, and wondered at the courage and perseverance of the man, who could exist in this lonely place, surrounded by hostile Indians; dependent alone upon his own resources, even for his own existence, with no other earthly reliance than his own strong arm, and felt I could do homage to the undaunted bravery and perseverance of the Kentucky pioneer.
We stopped one hour for the rest of the regiment to join us, and then began the slow and toilsome work of ascending the hills. It was a very warm day, and though resting often, the march was a tedious one. Before reaching the top, we halted for the rest of the brigade to come up. This was about two, P.M. Starting again, we soon reached the summit of the hills, and emerged once more into a country beautiful as the one we had left behind us. At the junction of the river road with the Lexington and Richmond pike, we rested two hours. At this place, Gen. Naglee and staff passed in advance of us, and selected our camp ground for the night. The spot selected was about three miles from this place, and four from Richmond. We reached it at seven, P.M. At six, P.M., while on our way, the Fourteenth Kentucky Cavalry passed us, begrimed with dust, and looking like war-worn veterans, as they really are. Their experience has been with the guerrillas that invest this State, and whom they fight with a vengeance. They had a look of determination, and I have no doubt rebels falling into their hands, find themselves in a tight place.
Saturday, the 18th, at seven in the morning, we started again, passing through Richmond at ten, A.M., and at eleven were resting on our camping ground, two miles beyond. Upon this ground, and in the vicinity, the battle of Richmond was fought, August 30, 1862, in which the Federals were defeated, losing 150 killed and 350 wounded. Gen. Munson was taken prisoner, and Gen. Nelson was severely wounded in this engagement. The trees about here bore marks of the struggle which ensued. Many of the branches were torn off, and in the trunk of one large cherry tree, I counted seven ball holes. It was a desperate struggle against odds, the enemy outnumbering us four to one. One of the boys, while we were here, brought a shell in, which he picked up in the vicinity of our camp. It was quite a curiosity, suggestive of the time when it was sent on its murderous errand, eight months before. We were pleasantly situated here, and enjoyed ourselves.