Throughout the relatively short history of the United States, a series of bold, ambitious plans have given rise to utopian communities that range from visionary to downright bizarre. These 10 ambitious plans showcase the dreamers who tried to build a better world on American soil, often with spectacular success, sometimes spectacular failure.

10. Coltsville, Connecticut

Samuel Colt is credited with changing gun manufacturing forever. He created the Colt pistol, the “gun that won the West,” and he did a lot of it at Colt’s Patent Fire‑Arms Manufacturing Company just outside of Hartford, Connecticut. It was there that he not only revolutionized manufacturing processes, built a new branch of the railway, and built a dyke to protect what had previously been an all‑but‑unusable floodplain, but he also tried to create a utopian village for all of his workers.

The village only exists in pieces today, including about 10 of the original 50 brick buildings that Colt built as six‑family homes. Those are now low‑income housing buildings, but Colt went even farther than that. He wanted to encourage immigrants to come to the US specifically to work in his factory, so he constructed the weird blue dome inspired by Russian architecture that still stands today. And it still looks as out of place as it ever did. There’s also a row of Swiss‑inspired chalets, and at one time, the entire area had been built up into an entire utopian community for his workers, all with the goal of making them feel at home in their new country. There were parks and botanical gardens, greenhouses, and even a German beer hall.

Colt built dance halls and social clubs, and he especially encouraged the development of a new craze that the kids seemed to like: the bicycle. He built churches and a concert hall, and he established the community’s own brass band. Even the look of the factory was designed to harken back to European architecture, and even though he made it perfectly clear that he expected his employees to work hard while they were on the clock, he also made a one‑hour lunch break mandatory.

Colt ultimately died of gout at the age of only 47, but the community that he had created for his workers continued to thrive under the guidance of his wife. Tragedy continued to cloud her life, though, and with three children dying young and their fourth dying in a boating accident, there was no one left to continue the community. Many of the buildings still stand, with the Colts’ home, Armsmear, willed away to become a retirement home for widows.

Now, there are plans to further preserve the community and Colt factory with the establishment of the Coltsville National Park.

9. Fruitlands Commune, Massachusetts

The Fruitlands Commune was established in June 1843, and by the new year, utopia was closed. Over the course of a handful of months, there were only truly about 14 people involved, and the man at the head of it all was Bronson Alcott. With him was his 10‑year‑old daughter: future writer Louisa May Alcott.

The goal was a straightforward one that ended up being not at all as simple as it sounded. Alcott wanted to return life to what it was like in the Garden of Eden, and that meant some pretty strict rules. The only food allowed was what they could grow on trees or vines because Alcott said that he didn’t want to consume anything animal‑based or anything that would mean a sacrifice of “life force.”

This whole thing was made even more complicated by the fact that none of the members of the commune actually had any farming experience, and they didn’t have any actual fruit trees on their property. And, because they couldn’t use anything that was taken from an animal, that also put a limit on the use of oil lamps, which in turn impacted heating and lighting. Alcott even went as far as to forbid the growing of root vegetables because he said the worms would be disturbed. Wool and wax were also forbidden, along with any kind of fertilizer. Given the climate of Massachusetts, it resulted not only in long periods of extreme discomfort, but chronic illness and, in turn, constant fighting.

Alcott’s attempts at luring new people to his community were an absolute failure, and his daughter’s diary is a pretty heartbreaking account of the fighting that went on between Alcott, his wife, and their other leaders.

The effort even got the attention of some of the country’s literary greats. Emerson and Thoreau both wrote about the endeavor. Specifically, though, they wrote about how it was going to fail. It wasn’t helped along by the fact that those who did try the experimental commune were a little bit more extreme than just eccentric. Their residents included a nudist who believed that clothes were a hindrance to the soul and a man who was so dedicated to his beard that “Persecuted for Wearing The Beard” was engraved on his tombstone.

8. Harmony and Economy, Pennsylvania & New Harmony, Indiana

The Harmony Society had its roots in Germany in the 1780s, but founder Johann George Rapp wanted more freedom for their Anabaptist sect. At the time, Germany was strictly Lutheran, so he and his adopted son picked up and moved to the United States.

The Rapps moved to Pennsylvania in 1803, and by 1805, The Harmony Society was official. And they thrived. By 1814, they had grown to 7,000 acres of farmland and Harmony was a blossoming town with 130 homes. Selling this property, they moved on to establish New Harmony, Indiana. Their new home was on 25,000 acres, and when they outgrew that, they headed back to Pennsylvania and founded Economy.

Not only were their settlements home to massive agricultural complexes, factories, and manufacturing industries, but by the middle of the 1800s, their per‑capita income averaged about 10 times the American average. They even built the largest communal hall in the US: the Feast‑Hall. So what happened? The world didn’t end.

Rapp was preparing his community for the end of the world and the return of Christ, which he believed was going to happen any day now. All of their wealth was being amassed in preparation for the end times, and at one point, Rapp had more than half a million dollars worth of gold stored in his home. They saw America as being the place where they could not only practice religious freedom, but where they would find true happiness. They were also free to practice alchemy, and Rapp, who was 70 at the time, was free to take on a young woman as his assistant. The gossip that was spread because of their relationship, and of her subsequent marriage to someone else, started a fracturing within the belief system of the society.

In 1829, the Harmonists received a letter that supposedly heralded the arrival of the “Lion of Judah.” Supposedly seeing the city as a safe haven against the evil that was going to be ending the world any time now, Dr. Johann Georg Goentgen arrived with his “Lion,” who also happened to claim that he was the Messiah. The Rapps, who were rightfully suspicious that the man was not, in fact, the Messiah, tried billing him for his stay in the community. The Harmonists were split over whether or not the man was the Messiah. (He not only wasn’t, but he had tried his schtick before, in Europe, with no success in getting anyone to abdicate any throne to him.) They eventually ran the pretend Messiah out of town, but it was the next big personality, a man named John Duss, who ultimately ran the community into the ground.

7. The Oneida Colony And The Bible Communists, New York

You can still visit the Oneida Community Mansion House today, located in upstate New York. The 8,600‑square‑meter (93,000 ft²) home was the home of a group of about 250 members all living together in what they called Biblical Communism.

The whole thing was the idea of John Humphrey Noyes. Born in 1811, he spent some time in the seminary before realizing that the church had it all kinds of backward. He believed that we weren’t supposed to be repenting and concentrating on not sinning, but instead, we were supposed to be searching for our own bit of personal perfection. It gave rise to his doctrine of Perfectionism, and he also believed that the Second Coming had already happened back when Christ’s immediate disciples were still around. What was left was for mankind to achieve a harmonious sort of perfect life on Earth.

Part of their belief system was to reject the conventional ideas of marriage as selfish. Instead, they focused on what they called Complex Marriage, where bonds of love and sex should be free to exist and develop between any and all couples and people. Exclusiveness was selfish.

All material property was shared by the community, and children were raised communally after their first year as well. In order to grow their order, they wanted to breed new generations rather than recruit new members, and with a practice called “Stirpiculture,” men and women deemed to be most appropriate to bear children together were requested to do so. Between 1869 and 1878, 58 children were born into the program.

After some trial and error, the community settled on the most profitable methods to sustain themselves: making fruit preserves, silk thread, and steel traps. Over the next decades, though, the organization had one of the strangest fates of all utopian societies: They reorganized into a company which still exists today.

6. George Pullman’s Capitalist Utopia, Illinois

Railroad tycoon and industrialist George Pullman meant well, sort of. The idea was that the town that he would give his name to would be a capitalist utopia, where his workers would live and be happy. And, in turn, they would be more productive and produce a better product. Pullman wasn’t just going to be the name of the town. He was going to own absolutely everything, and it was going to be built in the 1880s just outside of Chicago.

He planned for the town to house 12,000 people, and in three years, he spent about $6 million building his dream town. (That’s about $156 million today.) Everything was state of the art, from the infrastructure to the design of parks and trees. It had to be the best for his idea to work, after all, and it wasn’t the selfless attempt at making the world a better, more comfortable place that Samuel Colt had (perhaps ironically) tried to create.

Pullman believed that the working class masses were little more than cavemen who had learned how to control their thumbs. He believed that if he created a town that was beautiful enough and filled with enough fine things and culture, that he could elevate the working class into something better than what they were. If it sounds like the stuff of a dictatorship, it absolutely was. Pullman’s plan for his workforce also meant that no one was allowed to deviate from his grand vision right down to the assignment of certain types of people to certain homes within the community. Managers had the best homes, for example, and workers couldn’t actually own their homes. They had to pay rent. That was, of course, only if you were white. Otherwise, you weren’t even allowed to live in town.

And, if you didn’t live in town, Pullman took it personally. Sure, you could get a job with him, but he knew you weren’t a member of his community, and he made it clear that your job wasn’t all that safe.

Pullman also forbade his workers from drinking alcohol, but he did build a hotel in town to serve it to guests. He owned the one shopping center in town where everything was sold at incredibly high prices, and public gatherings were also forbidden. And there were also spies in town, there only to keep an eye on everyone and make sure Pullman’s laws were obeyed.

The whole thing came to a crashing halt with an economical downturn in 1893. People tolerated it because they had little choice, but when Pullman started cutting wages and kept the rents and pricing the same, the Pullman employees revolted.

Those that didn’t live in Pullman joined a labor union, which was also against the law in Pullman. Eventually, the US president called in the military to put down the action, which was more of a riot than a strike. Clearly, Pullman was only a utopia for the man who named it.

5. New Llano, Louisiana

Socialism wasn’t always a bad word in the US, and well into the 20th century, there were attempts at creating a socialist utopia within the confines of the nation. In 1917, one such community, called Llano del Rio, had already been successfully established in California. The problem was one of a water shortage, though, and forced to relocate, the colonists packed up and moved to Louisiana.

The colonists weren’t just a community; they were a corporation. They bought the Gulf Land & Lumber Company and, even though some of the neighboring communities weren’t too sure about these socialists, the idea of a communal lifestyle and sharing of resources became a popular one in the difficult environment. New Llano started advertising for new members, but internal problems led to internal fighting, and it wasn’t long before the Great Depression hit.

Suddenly, socialism didn’t seem so bad. New Llano was flooded with people wanting in, but many of the new members weren’t capable of pulling their own weight. The strain of the depression, coupled with the desperation of the flood of new members, meant that the colony needed to keep looking for new ways to support itself.

Ultimately, it couldn’t. At the time their corporate community folded in 1939, their businesses, homes, factories, and their 20,000 acres would be sold for a pittance.

4. Nashoba, Tennessee

Nashoba was a strange experiment in an anti‑slavery utopia that wasn’t just a community, but a chance for freedom. Established in the 1820s by Frances Wright, Nashoba was meant to be a community where slaves and former slaves would live, work, and be educated with the ultimate goal of not only freedom and self‑sufficiency, but of ultimately leaving the US.

Wright, born in Scotland, educated in London, and well‑traveled, was good friends with the Marquis de Lafayette. Their friendship afforded her the opportunity to travel in circles that included men like Thomas Jefferson, but when she saw the consequences of slavery, she wanted to do something to help free those that were born into bondage. With help from Lafayette and Andrew Jackson, she purchased 2,000 acres and set up Nashoba.

Wright also purchased the freedom of 15 slaves and settled them on her new property. The goal was to form a community in which they would not only work, but also learn. The community, she thought, was destined to be a multiracial one that would prepare former slaves for their independence.

It absolutely didn’t work, though. Conditions were incredibly harsh, and Wright was ill‑prepared for her role as overseer and teacher. By 1827, she had gone back to Europe to try to raise more money to support the community, and by the time she made it back to Nashoba, there were only a handful of people left. Discouraged, she headed up to spend some time in New Harmony, Indiana. By 1829, she went back to Nashoba to find 39 people struggling to make ends meet.

Faced with the failure of her social experiment but unwilling to abandon the people who were living there, she made arrangements for everyone to move to Haiti. They did, and they were welcomed by the country’s president.

3. Home Of Truth, Utah

In 1933, Marie Ogden settled her fledgling community in Dry Valley, Utah. A long‑time devotee of the spiritual and the occult, Ogden was at the head of the School of Truth and a utopian community that she claimed was going to be nothing less than God’s Kingdom on Earth.

She required that her followers do some of the pretty usual stuff, like giving up their earthly possessions and becoming at least mostly vegetarian.

They also had to believe in her magic typewriter which Ogden claimed would come to life and type out messages from God. It was her typewriter that told her Dry Valley was the center of everything, and that it was there that she would find the Home of Truth.

They settled not far from the Mormons, who originally paid them little attention. But Ogden was also determined to grow her community, and when she purchased the local newspaper, the San Juan Record, she also started publishing articles on their beliefs and the messages she was receiving. In 1935, they published an article called “Rebirth of a Soul,” in which they talked about the death of one of their members, Edith Peshak.

She wasn’t really, truly dead, though, she was just resting. Ogden was insistent that she was in a state of purification, and when local authorities investigated, they found that the commune was in possession of Peshak’s body. However, it was preserved in a way similar to mummification and, since it presented no health risks, they couldn’t do much about it.

Two years passed, and gradually, when Peshak didn’t return to life, Ogden’s followers began to trickle away. Eventually, one of her former members confessed that he had been a part of the group that had constructed a funeral pyre for the dead woman, and after that, the commune fell apart.

2. Octagon City, Kansas

Octagon City was supposed to be a utopian community based around exactly that: the octagon. Started in 1856 by Henry Clubb, the idea was originally going to encompass a handful of views that he had very strong feelings on. It was going to be a vegetarian society, and with the help of the octagon buildings, it was going to be super‑healthy.

The ideas about the octagons weren’t his. In 1848, noted phrenologist Orson Squire Fowler published a book called The Octagon House: A Home For All, or A New, Cheap, Convenient, and Superior Mode of Building. A house shaped like an octagon wasn’t just a house that optimized space, but it was also a house that meant more natural sunlight and better air circulation. Hence, better health.

When Henry Clubb decided to use the idea as the basis of his new, healthy‑living city, it was a dismal failure. Most of the people who were willing to give it a chance left only after a few months, mostly because they had been promised that they were moving into a busy, blossoming city. In reality, it was tents and a log cabin. Even though the most basic and important part of his community was that it was going to be vegetarian, he failed so completely at recruiting vegetarians that he eventually opened it up to everyone in an attempt to save the idea.

He was convinced, though, that the combination of the octagons and being vegetarian was the thing. Not eating meat, he said, would be likely to make you immune to disease, it would allow you to live longer, and it would allow you to live better. He attempted to appeal to the more intelligent people, who wanted to reap the benefits of a vegetarian diet, to come and join his commune.

As impressive as his sales pitch might have been, when New Yorker Miriam Colt wrote about her experience there, it involved words more along the lines of “dreary” and “sinister” instead of “utopia.” Needless to say, those people that he did succeed in recruiting mostly kept on moving.

There’s nothing left of the settlement today. Until 2007, a historian had attempted to keep up a small memorial to the failed commune, but finally gave up when vandals showed no signs of giving in.

1. The Society Of The Woman In The Wilderness, Pennsylvania

Many people who left Europe for the US did so because they were searching for religious freedom. In the 1690s, Johann Zimmerman, a one‑time Lutheran minister and Heidelberg University professor, gathered a group of people who had the same desire he did: They wanted to make their religious choices for themselves. As that absolutely wasn’t going to happen in Germany, they decided to head to Pennsylvania, where William Penn had begun his “Holy Experiment,” to create a community of religious tolerance and freedom.

Zimmerman and his followers believed that religious freedom wasn’t just important, but it was important right then. He’d read the signs, and he believed that the Second Coming was going to be in 1694. Not only that, but Pennsylvania was right in line with all the signs, too. He believed 40 was an important number, and Philadelphia was on the 40th parallel.

He died before the group could leave on their trip, but Johannes Kelpius quickly took the reins. The group made it to America and founded their society in the Pennsylvania wilderness. They devoted themselves not only to religion, but to celibacy, alchemy, astrology, and prayer. Calling themselves the Society of the Woman in the Wilderness, the goal was to create a perfect community where they were free to practice their numerology and their alchemy. They also wanted a place to set up their telescope and watch for Christ to return. Needless to say, he never did.

The original group began to fracture, with members and monks wandering off when the Second Coming didn’t, well, come. Kelpius died in 1708, succumbing to tuberculosis, and the order continued on for another 40 years. Even though they kept their isolated ways, they made it a point to help anyone who sought them out, offering everything from medical knowledge to carpentry skills. Far from forgotten, in 1961, the Rosicrucians claimed their society as the first in the New World, naming Kelpius as America’s first Rosicrucian Master.

As wild as it sounds, the world hosts a handful of secretive societies that have taken subterranean living to a whole new level. In this guide we explore the 10 communities people call home beneath the surface, from cramped basements in bustling metropolises to legally sanctioned underground towns.

10 Communities People: Why They Live Below Ground

10 The Rat Tribe Of China

More than one million Chinese residents—roughly five percent of Beijing’s population—are packed into windowless basements and repurposed air‑raid shelters. These denizens, known locally as the rat tribe (shuzu), are ambitious youngsters who have abandoned their rural homes to chase work in the capital.

The subterranean chambers were originally dug during the 1969 Sino‑Soviet border conflict on Chairman Mao’s orders. After his death, the new administration opened the shelters to commercial use, and people began renting the cramped spaces.

For many of these youths, the underground option is a financial lifeline: a shelter below ground costs about half of what an above‑ground flat would demand, making it an affordable alternative for those who cannot secure a conventional apartment.

The rat tribe endures significant stigma. Residents often hide their living situation from family, and landlords impose odd restrictions—such as banning sunbathing on balconies or prohibiting the airing of bedding outdoors.

Even though authorities have officially prohibited the rental of these air‑raid shelters, enforcement is lax and many continue to operate, effectively ignoring the ban.

9 The Endangered Homeless People Who Live In Bogota’s Sewers

In Colombia, homeless individuals have taken refuge in Bogota’s foul‑smelling sewers after a wave of targeted killings forced them off the streets. Since the 1990s, affluent businessmen—viewing the homeless as a nuisance—have hired death squads composed of ex‑soldiers and police officers to eradicate them.

These squads, sometimes augmented by active police officers, have turned the sewers into killing fields. Victims are often burned alive when perpetrators pour gasoline into the tunnels and set it alight, a horror that claimed 22 children in a single incident.

The sewers offer no safety; they are riddled with filth, waste, and rats, and the violence continues unabated. The grim statistics speak for themselves: between 1988 and 1993, roughly 2,000 homeless people were murdered, with an additional 215 killed in the first half of 1994 alone.

Today, estimates suggest that about 345 people fall victim to these murderous tactics each year, underscoring the ongoing peril faced by Bogota’s underground homeless community.

8 The Orphans Of Bucharest

The labyrinthine sewers beneath Bucharest shelter hundreds of individuals, most of whom are orphaned children who fled underground after the 1989 regime change shuttered their state‑run orphanages.

Life in the tunnels is a stark tableau of squalor: residents sleep on rotting garments, scavenge for meager food, and endure a constant presence of garbage and disease. Drug abuse is rampant, mirroring the desperation that permeates the underground community.

Control of the sewers rests with a man known as Bruce Lee, a rugged figure who roams the tunnels accompanied by a pack of dogs. For over two decades, Lee has acted as the de‑facto ruler, deciding who may enter and who must be turned away.

Children form a substantial portion of the underground population. Many were born in the sewers and have never known any other home. Although Lee claims to be constructing a better dwelling above ground for all, skeptics argue that his promises have long remained unfulfilled.

Law‑enforcement attempts to evict the tunnel dwellers have repeatedly failed. Police seal off entrances, yet the residents consistently find new ways to slip back underground, maintaining their hidden society.

7 The Homeless People Who Live Under Manhattan

New York’s homeless crisis extends beneath the city’s surface, where a 4‑kilometer (2.5‑mile) Amtrak tunnel runs beneath Riverside Park. The tunnel was first abandoned in 1980, prompting a wave of squatters. When Amtrak reclaimed the tunnel in 1991, many were displaced, only to return later to carve out tiny niches within the darkness.

Photographer and filmmaker Andrea Star Reese has chronicled the lives of these subterranean residents, publishing a photo‑book that captures their stark reality. According to Reese, many choose the tunnels over official shelters because the latter are often unsanitary and unwelcoming.

Substance abuse is a pervasive issue among tunnel dwellers. Some individuals who have attempted detoxification were turned away for not meeting the severity thresholds required for treatment. Periodic police raids further destabilize the community, forcing residents to flee or hide.

6 The Tunnel People Of Las Vegas

Estimates suggest that between 200 and 300 people have made the storm‑drain tunnels beneath Las Vegas their home. The tunnels, constructed in the 1990s, became a refuge for the homeless, a fact that only entered public awareness in 2002 after a high‑profile criminal fled there.

Documentarian Matthew O’Brien reports that many tunnel residents suffer from mental illness, chronic disease, or other misfortunes that push them underground. The tunnels offer a degree of autonomy unavailable in conventional shelters.

Choosing the storm‑drain system over city shelters stems from several factors: pets and partners are often barred from official shelters, some individuals are too intoxicated to qualify, and others work late‑night shifts that make conventional housing impractical.

Life below ground is not without hazards. Residents frequently fall into drug use and gambling as coping mechanisms. Moreover, heavy rains can cause sudden flooding, compelling tunnel dwellers to meticulously arrange their living spaces to avoid being swept away.

5 The Homeless Orphans Who Live In Moscow’s Sewers

In 2002, estimates placed roughly 50,000 homeless children on the streets of Moscow, many of whom resorted to the city’s sprawling sewer system during the brutal Russian winter. These youths, many of whom escaped from dire state‑run orphanages, survive through begging, petty theft, and, in some cases, prostitution.

While the children primarily navigate the streets, they retreat underground when temperatures plunge below zero, seeking shelter from the icy chill. Unfortunately, the harsh climate still claims lives, with many freezing to death within the sewers.

The situation has deteriorated over time. Some non‑governmental organizations estimate that over 100,000 individuals now live on Moscow’s streets, a figure starkly contrasted by government claims that the number hovers around 10,000.

4 Coober Pedy

Coober Pedy proudly claims the title of the world’s only official underground town. Nestled in the Australian outback, the settlement grew around opal mining and has embraced subterranean living as a practical response to the region’s scorching temperatures, which can soar to 52 °C (125 °F).

The relentless heat drove residents to carve their homes, businesses, and even communal spaces beneath the desert surface. Today, the town boasts a network of more than 1,500 dwellings, each sunk 2.4–6.7 metres (8–22 ft) underground, offering comfortable, climate‑controlled living spaces.

These underground homes mirror conventional houses in amenities, with the exception that kitchens and bathrooms sit just above ground, allowing for proper sewage disposal. Despite the extra effort, construction costs for an underground residence align closely with those of a surface home.

Homeowners can easily expand their subterranean abodes by simply drilling deeper—sometimes striking opal in the process. One motel famously uncovered a $360,000 opal vein while excavating additional rooms.

3 The Underground Migrant Town In Moscow

In 2011, Moscow police uncovered a hidden underground settlement housing 110 illegal migrants. Originally fashioned as a bomb shelter beneath a factory that produced blades, needles, and safety pins, the space became a clandestine dwelling for workers seeking cheap accommodation.

This discovery was part of a broader crackdown that also revealed secret underground hideouts, including a sausage‑making facility and a concealed refuge beneath a railway station.

2 Lots Of Syrians Are Living Underground To Escape Air Strikes

The protracted Syrian civil war has forced countless civilians to seek shelter beneath the earth as bombings reduce entire neighborhoods to rubble in moments. Many families retreat to basements, while others dig makeshift bunkers or bomb shelters beneath their homes.

In February 2018, residents of Eastern Ghouta fled underground as the Syrian military mounted a massive offensive. The cramped shelters often house up to 80 people within a 150‑square‑meter (1,614 ft²) space, leaving no room even to lie down.

These subterranean enclaves suffer from poor ventilation, rampant mold, and a complete lack of electricity, water, or sanitation. Some inhabitants liken their underground quarters to graves, highlighting the dire conditions they endure.

1 A Reclusive Islamic Sect Was Caught Living Under Russia

In August 2012, Russian authorities investigating the assassination of a prominent Islamic cleric in Kazan stumbled upon a secretive sect living beneath the city. The group, known as the muammin (meaning “believers”), comprised about 70 individuals, including 27 children who had never seen sunlight.

Members occupied cramped, cell‑like apartments devoid of heat or natural light, spending their days confined underground. Only a handful of adults were permitted to exit the hidden complex to trade at local markets.

The sect’s charismatic leader, 83‑year‑old Faizrakhman Satarov, proclaimed himself a prophet and declared his three‑story dwelling independent of Russian jurisdiction. Despite the bizarre claim, the underground residence remained a tightly sealed enclave.

When we talk about the 10 most isolated inhabited places on Earth, we picture people who have chosen to live far from the bustle of modern society. Throughout history, humans have trekked across vast continents to set up settlements, and some of those have remained tiny, secluded pockets where daily life unfolds far from the crowds.

10 Palmerston Island

About 3,200 kilometers (2,000 mi) northeast of New Zealand lies the diminutive Palmerston Island, home to just 62 residents, all descended from a single family line. Captain James Cook first sighted the island in 1774 during his second Pacific expedition, but he didn’t set foot there until his third voyage in April 1777, naming it after Henry Temple, 2nd Viscount Palmerston, then Lord of the Admiralty.

The entire population traces its roots back to William Marsters, who settled the island in 1863 with his Polynesian wife and her two cousins. After Queen Victoria granted him ownership, Marsters married his wife’s cousins as his second and third wives, and together they fathered 23 children. Before he died in 1899, Marsters divided the island into three parcels, one for each wife. Today, aside from three individuals, every inhabitant is a direct descendant of Marsters.

Life on Palmerston is defined by isolation and simplicity. There are no shops, banks, or markets; commerce occurs only between islanders or when ships arrive with external supplies. Money is used solely for trade off‑the‑island or for purchases from visiting vessels.

The island lacks a conventional water system. Residents collect rainwater for drinking, and two public toilets sit on the main street. Electricity is supplied for only six hours each day, though a new telephone station now eases communication with the outside world.

Fish and coconuts make up the staple diet. While ships visit a few times a year to deliver provisions, regular shipments are impossible due to the community’s extreme remoteness. Visitors are welcomed warmly; the islanders love guests and “adopt” travelers as part of the family, offering them accommodation in local homes because no hotels exist.

Reaching Palmerston is a challenge. The island sits roughly 500 km (310 mi) from Rarotonga, the capital of the Cook Islands, requiring a two‑day sail across open Pacific waters. Boats are scarce, making the journey a true test of endurance for anyone seeking the ultimate off‑grid island escape.

9 Supai Village, Arizona

The Grand Canyon draws millions, yet hidden within its side gorge, Havasu Canyon, lies the secluded Supai Village, home to the Havasupai tribe who have called the area home for roughly 800 years. The tribe’s name translates to “the people of the blue‑green waters,” a nod to the stunning waterfalls and springs that sustain them.

Supai sits on a protected reservation. In the 1800s, U.S. government policies shrank the tribe’s holdings from over 1.6 million acres to a modest 518 acre parcel, confining the community to its present tight‑knit footprint.

What truly sets Supai apart is its mail system: the 208 residents are the only people in the United States whose parcels still travel by mule. A convoy of linked mules shuttles mail and supplies in and out of the canyon, and any outgoing correspondence bears a unique Supai postmark.

Tourists can visit, but the journey demands stamina. Supai lies about 56 km (35 mi) from the main Grand Canyon visitor hub, and no paved road reaches it. Adventurers start at Hualapai Hilltop, then must trek, ride a mule, or fly by helicopter down a 13‑km (8‑mi) trail to the village floor. Hikers need to be fit, well‑hydrated, and prepared for the desert’s challenges.

Temperatures can soar to 46 °C (115 °F), prompting park officials to close trails for safety during extreme heat. Despite its isolation, Supai remains a hidden gem of the American frontier.

8 Tristan Da Cunha

There are no restaurants, hotels, credit‑card machines, or even safe beaches on Tristan da Cunha, the world’s most remote populated island. Nestled in the middle of the Atlantic, the archipelago and its main island share the same name and sit far from any major landmass.

The island lies 2,816 km (1,750 mi) from South Africa and 3,360 km (2,088 mi) from South America. The nearest neighbor, Saint Helena, sits 2,430 km (1,510 mi) away.

Tristan was first sighted by Tristão da Cunha in 1506, who named the island after himself but never set foot due to hazardous waters. The French frigate L’Heure du Berger mapped it 261 years later without landing.

The first true settler, American explorer Jonathan Lambert, arrived in 1810, proclaiming the islands “The Islands of Refreshment.” His brief rule ended with a fatal boating accident in 1812, after which the name reverted to Tristan da Cunha.

Britain annexed the islands in 1816. Today, 267 people live there, enjoying a hospital with dental services, an operating theatre, and a grocery store. However, groceries must be ordered weeks or months in advance, as everything arrives via ship from the nearest port.

Electricity isn’t supplied to individual homes; instead, diesel generators sit centrally between cottages in the sole settlement, Edinburgh of the Seven Seas. The 70 families farm communally, and cows graze along the single road. Though modern comforts exist, the volcanic nature of the island adds an ever‑present risk.

7 Utqiagvik, Alaska

Utqiagvik, formerly known as Barrow, claims the title of America’s northernmost city and ranks ninth globally. Sitting well above the Arctic Circle, the town endures extreme cold and profound isolation.

Archaeological evidence shows people thriving in the area as early as AD 500. British explorer Frederick Beechey named the headland in 1826 after Sir John Barrow, a champion of Arctic exploration. The native Inupiat refer to the location as Ukpeagvik, meaning “Place Where Owls Are Hunted.”

The city rests atop permafrost up to 400 m (1,300 ft) deep. Warm months last a brief 3.3 months, with average highs of 2 °C (36 °F). The cold season stretches 4.4 months, averaging –16 °C (3 °F). From November onward, the sun sets for roughly 65 days, creating a polar night.

Despite the harsh climate, the 4,429 residents enjoy a high quality of life. Over 60 % are Inupiat Eskimo. Homes are heated by natural gas from nearby oil fields, and modern water, sewer, and trash‑pickup services exist. The town hosts seven churches, several schools, and Ilisagvik College, while phone, mail, radio, cable, and internet keep residents connected.

Visitors can stay in hotels, dine at restaurants, use a dry cleaner, bank, and even shop for furs. The community still practices whaling and seal hunting to sustain itself through the long winters. The only way to reach Utqiagvik is by plane, a costly but necessary journey for those craving extreme cold, solitude, and endless night.

6 La Rinconada, Peru

High in the Peruvian Andes, about 64 km (40 mi) north of Lake Titicaca, sits La Rinconada, the world’s highest permanent settlement at over 4,900 m (16,000 ft) above sea level. The town rests on Mount Ananea and endures sub‑zero temperatures for most of the year.

Visitors to this altitude must brace for severe altitude sickness—headaches, nausea, breathlessness, and, in extreme cases, death. Approximately 50,000 people now call this squalid town home.

Infrastructure is minimal: there is no sanitation system, no plumbing, and trash collection is nonexistent. Residents either bury waste outside town or leave it where it falls. The only roads leading in are dirty and ice‑covered for much of the year, making travel treacherous.

The lure? Gold. Between 2001 and 2009, the town’s population surged 230 % as word spread about abundant gold deposits. Mining operates under an informal “cachorreo” system: workers receive no wage but may keep any ore they can haul home after a month’s labor, never knowing how much gold lies within.

La Rinconada can be described as isolated, filthy, impoverished, and bleak. The town’s harsh conditions and lack of basic services make it a place most would avoid, even for the promise of gold.

5 Ittoqqortoormiit, Greenland

Pronouncing Ittoqqortoormiit is a tongue‑twister; living there is an even bigger challenge. Formerly called Scoresbysund, the settlement is hailed as the western hemisphere’s most remote inhabited community. Its 450 residents nestle between the massive Northeast Greenland National Park and the colossal Scoresby Sund fjord.

For nine months each year, the surrounding sea freezes solid, cutting off all maritime travel. During those months, access is limited to hiking, snow‑mobile rides, or even dog sleds. The only exit routes are a rare helicopter flight or a boat during the brief three‑month thaw when the ice melts enough for ships to enter the harbor.

Despite its isolation, Ittoqqortoormiit enjoys several comforts thanks to Danish support: a power station, an engineering workshop, a small hospital run by a Danish doctor and nurse, and a school staffed by Danish teachers.

The town’s harbormaster stays in touch with Nuuk, Greenland’s capital, via satellite‑linked email and fax. Locally, there’s a grocery store, a few convenience shops, and a pub that opens just one day a week.

Most inhabitants are Inuit. During the frozen months, they rely on traditional hunting, whaling, and fishing to survive. Some also earn income by guiding Arctic tours for adventurous travelers willing to brave the extreme cold.

4 Migingo Island

Lake Victoria, Africa’s largest lake, hides a tiny speck of humanity: Migingo Island. Roughly half an acre in size, the island houses about 500 fishermen living in cramped, makeshift shacks made from salvaged tin and other scavenged materials.

The island’s modern story began in 1991 when two Kenyan fishermen claimed to be the first permanent settlers, turning an uninhabited weed‑laden rock into a bustling fishing hub. In 2004, a Ugandan fisherman also laid claim to the island, sparking a cross‑border dispute.

Its allure lies in the surrounding deep waters, teeming with Nile perch, providing a lucrative catch for the island’s residents. However, the limited space forces homes to be tightly packed, and the community includes four bars, a hair salon, several brothels, and a tiny port.

Living conditions are harsh: the island is essentially a fishermen’s slum, with rampant prostitution and pervasive filth. Some residents possess cellular phones, but signal strength is unreliable at best. Migingo is far from a tropical paradise; it’s a compact, chaotic enclave of survival.

3 Villa Las Estrellas, Antarctica

When Antarctica conjures images of endless ice and waddling penguins, people rarely think of permanent residents. Yet Villa Las Estrellas—Spanish for “Stars Town”—is a Chilean settlement perched on King George Island, part of the President Eduardo Frei Montalva Base.

The town consists of 14 homes, a bank, a post office, a school staffed by two teachers, a gym, a church, and a modest souvenir shop for tourists. Population fluctuates: 15 people during the summer months and up to 80 in winter, with each resident serving a maximum two‑year stint before returning to Chile.

The on‑site hospital can handle basic lifesaving procedures, featuring a lab, anesthesia machine, operating theatre, sterilizer, X‑ray unit, and dental clinic. A small pharmacy also operates, but major emergencies require evacuation to medical facilities in South America.

Life here comes with a unique stipulation: prospective long‑term residents must have their appendix removed before arrival, as the settlement only has a doctor with limited surgical training. Average temperatures hover around –2 °C (28 °F), making Villa Las Estrellas a truly extreme, yet fascinating, place to call home.

2 Coober Pedy, Australia

The Australian Outback is infamous for its scorching heat, relentless red sands, and a menagerie of dangerous wildlife. Yet the town of Coober Pedy thrives by literally going underground.

Opal fever sparked the town’s birth in 1915 when a teenager stumbled upon the precious gemstones. While many prospectors were hunting gold, they instead uncovered a massive opal deposit, eventually accounting for about 70 % of the world’s opal production. Coober Pedy proudly bears the title “Opal Capital of the World.”

To escape the blistering daytime temperatures, miners carved subterranean homes—known as “dugouts”—that stay cool in summer and warm in winter. Today, roughly 2,500 permanent residents live in these underground abodes, with about 60 % of the populace of European descent and more than 45 nationalities represented.

The town offers essential services: water, electricity, law enforcement, medical facilities, and education. The local hospital provides 24 beds and collaborates with nearby medical practices, while schools range from pre‑kindergarten through year 12, offering diverse programs and community projects.

Beyond mining, tourism fuels the economy. Visitors can stay at the Desert Cave Hotel, explore galleries, cafés, underground shops, and even try their hand at “noodling” for opals in the desert. Coober Pedy proves that even the harshest environments can foster vibrant, resilient communities.

1 Oymyakon, Russia

Eyelashes freeze mid‑blink, frostbite stalks every step, and car batteries die in an instant—welcome to Oymyakon, Russia, the coldest permanently inhabited settlement on Earth.

Home to roughly 500 hardy souls, Oymyakon earned its title as the world’s coldest town, with the nearest city, Yakutsk, a distant 927 km (576 mi) away. Positioned just south of the Arctic Circle, the village endures up to 21 hours of darkness each day during winter. In 1933, temperatures plummeted to a record‑low –68 °C (‑90 °F).

The permafrost layer, up to 400 m (1,300 ft) thick, makes agriculture impossible. Residents survive on high‑protein fare: raw, thinly sliced frozen fish called stroganina, reindeer meat, frozen horse liver, and even ice‑cold horse blood mixed with macaroni.

Because the ground is permanently frozen, traditional water pipes and sewage systems cannot exist. Residents must dash to an outdoor outhouse for basic needs. Burying the dead is a monumental task; fires must be lit to melt the icy soil enough to allow graves.

Every aspect of daily life is challenged by the extreme cold: cars must be kept running constantly to prevent batteries from freezing, ink in pens solidifies, and electronic devices often fail. Thick animal furs provide the only reliable protection against the relentless chill.

For those seeking an escape from sweltering heat, Oymyakon offers the ultimate cool‑down—though you’ll likely beg for warmth after a few minutes in this frigid frontier.

Slavery stretches back as long as human civilization (or perhaps even longer) and continues into the 21st century, where the modern slave population tops 20 million. Runaway slaves—often called “maroons”—have built fascinating societies noted for unique cultures and fierce military resistance. Their stories are riddled with hardship, and even today their histories are marked by hostile relations with national governments and ongoing struggles for land rights. In this roundup we showcase 10 remarkable communities founded by former slaves, each a testament to resilience and ingenuity.

10 Remarkable Communities: A Quick Overview

10 Cimarrones, Panama

The presence of Cimarrones in the Panamanian isthmus was first recorded in the 1520s, when slaves slipped away from convoys traveling between ports on the Pacific and Atlantic coasts. In the 1550s, a ship carrying a Mandinko slave named Bayano was wrecked off the coast, and Bayano was then elected “King of the Blacks.” He spent the next five years harrying the Spaniards by preying on mule convoys carrying gold and silver. The Spanish eventually realized they couldn’t defeat the Cimarrones on their own terrain and instead settled on treachery. At a supposed peace negotiation, they poisoned several of Bayano’s followers. The king himself was exiled to Peru and later Spain.

Shortly thereafter, in 1572, the Cimarrones proved crucial allies in the privateering ventures of Sir Francis Drake. A group of 30 maroons guided Drake’s forces through the jungle, enabling him to ambush multiple mule trains, making off with much booty. The unnerved Spanish consequently launched several expeditions against the Cimarron settlements before coming to an agreement whereby the Cimarrones received a blanket pardon and their own self-governing settlement. In return, they were compelled to send back any future fugitive slaves and couldn’t ally with foreign powers.

9 Siddis Of India

While the history of East African slaves in India may go back to 628, they first arrived in large numbers in the 12th century. They were employed mainly in military roles, and in the 15th century, an Abyssinian briefly reigned as a sultan in Bengal. Malik Ambar was later a respected prime minister and mercenary general in the late 16th and early 17th centuries.

One particular group of Abyssinian Siddis came into control of Janjira in the 1490s, either seizing it in their own right or being appointed governors by a local ruler. Supposedly, they Trojan‑horsed their way in, with their leader disguising himself as a merchant and then smuggling soldiers into the fortress in boxes. They quickly became the chief naval power on the northwest Indian coast, enriching themselves as mercenaries and pirates and through transporting hajj pilgrims.

Over the following two centuries, they operated in a loose alliance with the Mughals and fended off Portuguese, Dutch, English, and Maratha attacks before finally being defeated by the British in 1760 and accepting British suzerainty in the 19th century.

8 Black Cherokee

Actually, there are no black Cherokee. This is the opinion of the Cherokee themselves; they implemented a requirement of proven descent from a “Cherokee by blood” to claim citizenship and suffrage in 1983, but this was ruled unconstitutional by the nation’s Supreme Court in 2006. Unperturbed, they simply amended the constitution via a referendum. This amendment was upheld by the Supreme Court and expelled 3,000 freedmen. These are the descendants of the Cherokee slaves integrated into the tribe by law at the conclusion of the American Civil War, and the decision cuts them off from food aid and medical services.

Early in their history the Cherokee were known to accept escaped slaves into their tribe. But contact with the United States (particularly the Southern United States) and the Cherokee’s subsequent assimilation saw them adopt white racial prejudices. The richer Cherokee also employed African slaves and sided with the Confederacy—Cherokee Brigadier‑General Stand Watie was among the last Confederate officers to surrender.

The Cherokee Freedmen Controversy, as it has come to be known, is a fascinating issue that blends questions of tribal sovereignty, civil rights, the distribution of federal aid, voter turnout (only 8,700 of 35,000 eligible voters took part in the referendum), and the desire to paint over a slave‑owning past. The timing of the decision, just before a narrowly decided election for principal chief, also raises eyebrows.

7 Bushinengues, Suriname, And French Guiana

In Suriname, the sugar plantations were overwhelmingly situated on rivers, with slaves easily able to flee into the surrounding forest and swamp. Over time, they organized themselves into tribes who regularly raided plantations in search of weapons, ammunition, women, and food, with such success that most signed treaties with the Dutch by the 1760s.

That decade also saw the rise of the belligerent Boni maroons, who carried out a concerted guerrilla war for 30 years. The Boni ultimately migrated into French Guiana and only signed a treaty with the Europeans in the 1860s, after a century of intermittent warfare. Back in Suriname, the maroon population grew substantially, and the six tribes today make up 10 percent of the country’s population. In doing so, they have often resisted the modernization and resettlement attempts of the central government and military, culminating in a six‑year guerrilla war from 1986–1992. More recent years have seen them try to assert their land rights in the face of mining and hydroelectric projects.

6 Jamaican Maroons

The Jamaican Maroons have their genesis in the Spanish abandonment of the island in 1655, wherein many slaves fled into the mountainous interior as the British occupied Jamaica. Here, they coalesced into two groups, the Leeward (in the west) and Windward (in the east) tribes.

Over the following several decades, relations with the British remained tense. The British resented the harboring of runaways and undermining of their authority. Regular slave rebellions further destabilized the situation, as did the growth of the Maroon population and consequent demand for land. This boiled over into open conflict in the 1720s, but the Maroons proved skilled in guerrilla warfare, using the terrain to their advantage.

In 1739, they came to a negotiated peace with the British. This stipulated that the Maroons would capture and return runaways and defend Jamaica against foreign invasion. In return, their freedom and land rights were recognized, and they were allowed to govern themselves.

Peace was maintained until 1795. Spooked by the slave revolt in Haiti, the belligerent British governor elected to punish one maroon group, Trelawney Town, for minor infractions. Though no other maroon communities came to their aid, Trelawney’s 300 maroons (and a few hundred runaways) held out against 10‑to‑1 odds for eight months. When finally defeated by sheer weight of numbers and an intensive fort‑building program (plus, the British brought in hunting dogs), some 500 maroons were deported to Nova Scotia. Unused to the climate and farming conditions, they quickly grew restless and were sent to newly established Sierra Leone.

5 Fort Mose, Florida

In 1693, King Charles II of Spain (otherwise known for being ridiculously inbred), issued an edict granting freedom to fugitive slaves seeking refuge in St. Augustine, the capital of Spanish Florida. This weakened their English rivals (the runaways came from the Carolinas) and strengthened themselves by marshalling the ex‑slaves’ support and military power. The importance of defending sparsely populated Florida is reflected in the preconditions a fugitive had to accept: to protect St. Augustine, swear loyalty to Spain, and convert to Catholicism.

The British grew increasingly incensed, sending agents to demand the return of their property and initiating a series of raids and counter‑raids. This occurred especially during Queen Anne’s War (1702–1713), the American theater of the War of the Spanish Succession. When these proved insufficient, Georgia was established to serve as a slave‑free buffer state.

In 1738, the increasingly assertive freedmen were given their own autonomous settlement at Fort Mose, the first of its kind. Its population soon numbered 100. The following year, hostilities with England resumed in the War of Jenkin’s Ear, and the English, after suppressing a rebellion of their own slaves, attacked Florida. As a result, the freedmen were forced to withdraw from Fort Mose to play a pivotal role in defending St. Augustine, serving under black officers and receiving pay equal to their Spanish comrades. Fort Mose was then retaken in a devastating surprise attack that forced the British invaders to withdraw.

In the long run, however, the British attained Florida in 1763 at the conclusion of the French and Indian (or Seven Years’) War. The freed black community evacuated to Cuba.

4 Palmares, Brazil

Palmares was founded in 1605, allegedly by an Angolan princess who escaped slavery. It came to consist of 10 large settlements and up to 30,000 people. This number is roughly equal to the population of British North America at the same time and was ruled over by a “great lord” or king, governed according to a mishmash of central African customs. By the 1630s, the ruler was Ganga Zumba, and Palmares continued to flourish in the face of Portuguese and Dutch pressure.

An eyewitness to a Dutch expedition in 1645 described the towns of New and Old Palmares as being surrounded by stakes and gates sealed by fallen trees. It had a range of buildings including churches, smithies, and fountains.

The constant strife, however, took its toll on Ganga Zumba. In 1678, he agreed to a treaty with the Portuguese, obliging him to stop accepting fugitive slaves and acknowledge Portuguese suzerainty. This compromise was rejected by Ganga Zumba’s military commander or nephew Zumbi, who chose resistance. Zumba died, possibly of poison, shortly thereafter. Zumbi then managed to fend off six consecutive Portuguese attacks from 1680–1686 before Palmares finally fell in 1694 and was destroyed in its entirety.

Despite the defeat of Palmares, maroon communities known as quilombos remained widespread in Brazil. Some 700 are identified today. Since the 1980s, they’ve been steadily working to attain legal title to their lands.

3 Great Dismal Swamp Maroons

The charmingly named Great Dismal Swamp of southeastern Virginia and northeastern North Carolina consisted of 3,200 kilometers (2,000 mi) of tangling vegetation over marshy ground with an array of bears, snakes, and wildcats. Its apparently inhospitable nature meant it was largely left alone by early European settlers and served as a haven for escaped slaves from the late 1600s through to the Civil War. Having established themselves on small patches of higher ground in the swamp’s interior, the maroon population soon grew to anywhere between a few hundred and 2,000.

However, by the latter decades of the 18th century, the tides of economic progress affected even the isolated and foreboding Great Dismal Swamp in the form of roads, timber companies, and a canal. Perhaps surprisingly, the maroons were partially integrated into this wider economy and found work on lumber operations, construction gangs, and as mule‑drivers. In doing so, they worked alongside slaves, some of whom stayed in the swamp after purchasing their freedom.

In the Civil War, the two sides competed for control of the Great Dismal Canal, which was eventually secured by the Union with help from black troops. Later campaigns in the area saw the maroons provide provisions and scouts for the Union troops and launched guerrilla campaigns into North Carolina. Following emancipation and the close of the war, the swamp was largely abandoned.

2 Miskito Sambu, Nicaragua

In either 1641 or 1652, a Portuguese slave ship sank off the Mosquito Coast in Central America, but a sizeable number made it ashore. Here, they were integrated into the local Miskito, forming their own distinct ethnic sub‑group. The Miskito Sambu (or Zambos), and eventually rose to command the tribe and the coast.

They also struck up an enduring connection with England, partly because a Miskito chief had sent his son, Oldman, to visit England during the reign of King Charles. They adopted the institution of monarchy and were ruled over by a series of kings with firmly British names, like Peter, Edward, Robert, George, Andrew, and even a Prince Wellington. The first of these, King Jeremy (first attested in the last decade of the 17th century) was at least part African, and so were his successors.

The affinity with Britain was confirmed by an official treaty of friendship and alliance in 1740 as well as the British establishment of a protectorate over the coast. It was in this guise that the Miskito harried Spanish territory with some success during the American Revolutionary War, but Britain’s ultimate defeat compelled them to withdraw from the protectorate in 1787. Following the independence of Spain’s colonies, both Honduras and Nicaragua asserted loose control over the Miskito, and Nicaragua annexed the place outright in 1894. The Miskito, many of whom are English‑speaking and Protestant, have sometimes had troublesome relations with their new governments, and fought against the Sandinista government in the 1980s. In doing so, they teamed up with the Contras, who are famous for receiving illegal funding from Ronald Reagan.

1 Black Seminoles

As we have seen, Florida was an attractive destination for many runaway slaves, but not all settled under Spanish authority. Instead, some established their own communities among the Seminole. Here, they lived in their own towns but gave the Seminole an annual tribute and served as translators in negotiations with Europeans.

Eventually, however, tensions with America over runaway slaves resulted in open conflict. Future president Andrew Jackson invaded in the First Seminole War (1817–1818), and Spain ceded Florida to the United States. This also saw a small group of black Seminoles flee the area to settle on Andros Island in the Bahamas, where their community endures to this day. Despite their initial victory, the Americans remained covetous of Seminole land, and their demand that the Seminole move west of the Mississippi River triggered the Second Seminole War (1835–1842). The maroons were a key factor in the dogged resistance encountered by the US Army, stirring up one of the largest slave revolts in US history.

Nevertheless, the Americans emerged victorious (though it cost the lives of 2,000 soldiers and up to $60 million), partly by exacerbating divisions between the black and Indian Seminole. Most were deported to Indian Territory. Dissatisfaction with conditions here led several hundred black Seminoles to take up a Mexican offer to serve as border guards in 1849. Most of these were enticed back in 1870 to serve as Indian Scouts for the US Army, setting up a unit that would last until 1912 and win four Medals of Honor.

However, the US government reneged on a promise to give them land, mainly due to disputes over whether black Seminoles were entitled to Indian land. Some returned to Mexico as squatters, and others re‑joined their compatriots in the Indian Territory, which became Oklahoma.

Finally, following the disbandment of the Scouts in 1912, the 200–300 remaining black Seminoles settled in Brackettville, Texas next to the fort they’d been stationed in. Unfortunately, as with the Cherokee, the black Seminoles have subsequently faced questions over their right to claim Seminole citizenship and the benefits it entitles and have been involved in bitter legal disputes.