HOME AGAIN

CHAPTER XVI

THE surrender came on the 10th of April, 1865. The nights were very cool, especially after midnight. My battalion, Fifth Alabama, was lying in an open field near Appomattox Court House. We were absent front our brigade on detached duty and had built fires out of brush and sticks, such as we were able to pick up at random, and had lain down beside these to rest and snatch a little much-needed sleep. A squadron of Sheridan's cavalry, probably attracted by our fires flickering in the darkness, made in upon us as we slept and with oaths demanded that we surrender and do it quick. I was sleeping with a young friend, Jesse Hutchins, with whom I had associated at home before the war, and as we awoke and rose to our feet, Jesse, with gun in hand and rubbing his eyes to get them open, replied to my interrogatory as to what we were going to do about it, "Fight them, by George!" The entire battalion was soon aroused and as they realized the situation their muskets began to crack and flash out amid the darkness, and the boys in blue saw that they had stirred up a hornet's nest and they beat a hasty retreat with our boys right after them. Back to the Court House and (Page 140) on through the little village they rushed until they galloped off out of reach. As we pushed through the court house square, my friend Jesse Hutchins was killed on the street in this night skirmish. The next day we buried him there, and he, like thousands of other brave Alabama boys, sleeps in Virginia soil, there to await the resurrection morn. The lieutenant colonel commanding the Federals in this attack was killed, and Thomas (Tom) Long, another neighbor and school-boy friend of mine, cut his insignia from the coat collar and brought it home with him, and after the surrender sent it together with a photographic picture, taken from the pocket, to his people north.

When the rumor that Lee had surrendered reached us we could not believe it. It was repeated and reiterated until finally we came to accept it as a fact. To say we were sad and sick at heart and even effected to tears is to express it mildly. Remember that for four long years we had endured any and every hardship, without a murmur, had faced death in a thousand ways, and had made every sacrifice that it was possible for us to make, and were still willing to go on and endure more and suffer more for the cause we loved - and we were told the end had come. It was a sacred hour and I draw the mantle of forgetfulness over it once for all. (Page 141)

In speaking in an earlier part of this narrative of the night before the battle of Mechanicsville, in the Seven Days Battles, I told of a Yankee striking a match to light his pipe and of my taking a headlong plunge to avoid being shot, and of the convulsive laughter of my friend, Will Frost, who was with me on that bridge. Now here in this night fight at Appomattox, with this cavalry detachment of Sheridan's, this friend was shot through the thigh, in this last engagement on our part in the great war, the night before the surrender. The next day when we learned that we were going home on our paroles, he begged and cried to go with us. He dreaded to be left behind, as he knew not how he would be treated, and he longed to go with us. He called me to him and asked me to seek out his father when I should reach home and tell him about him, his wound, where we left him, etc. This I did, of course, and on numerous occasions since the war I have had the pleasure of meeting my friend and talking with him about our personal recollections. Strange that he went through the war and never received a scratch until here at the last, and Jesse Hutchins who was killed in this same encounter, was one of the best soldiers in the battalion and was always to the front in every battle. Once before he was shot, losing a finger off one hand. (Page 142)

As Gen. Lee was returning to his quarters, after his famous interview with Gen. Grant, his soldiers having learned of his surrender rushed out to meet him as he passed them on the way, all trying to condole with him and lighten his burden, many in tears and many struggling to shake his hand for the last time. He was greatly affected and tears poured down his cheeks as with deep, emotion he spoke words of comfort to those heroes who had followed him on so many bloody fields.

On the 12th of April the Army of Northern Virginia marched to the appointed spot near Appomattox Court House, and in the presence of a line of Federal troops stacked arms, deposited their accoutrements, and laid down their colors. Here we received our paroles, which consisted of a piece of paper stating that the bearer was not to do aught against the United States until regularly exchanged, etc., and were signed by Gen. U. S. Grant. These were printed on a press right there on the field set up in a tent. Receiving these we were permitted to go at will. I kept my parole for a long time after the war, but finally lost it. With a half dozen or more of my old company I started home from Appomattox afoot, intending to walk through to Alabama. All the official papers of the company were turned over to me, as I was a commissioned officer, and no other officer was in touch with the men as I would be coming through with (Page 143) the majority of them under my personal supervision. Through Virginia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Georgia, and clear across Alabama---quite a long walk; but with home, dear sweet home as the goal, we never faltered. All along the route we were treated with the greatest kindness and fared bountifully. I was quite unwell when we started and had been for months before we left Petersburg, but I improved every day and was soon as well as I ever was in my life. The change of diet, water, scenery, with plenty of fresh air and exercise renewed my strength at a rapid rate. We marched on to Montgomery, Ala. Already a Yankee garrison was here, camped out on the edge of the city. As we passed through the city two stalwart "Yanks" grabbed me and undertook to take my sword, but as we struggled together a Yankee officer interfered in my behalf and delivered me and my sword out of-their hands. I was entitled to my sword under the terms of the surrender and did not propose to give it up without being forced. We went several miles on the road from Montgomery toward Selma, and camped that night in the woods. On this road between Montgomery and Selma, and on to Demopolis, we met hundreds of negroes fleeing from their homes to "jine" the Yankees, and as they approached the paroled soldiers would arm themselves with rocks and when near enough would charge and rock (Page 144) them off the roads away into the woods. We scattered many a band of them in this way, and often some seeing the fate of those ahead would flee to the woods before reaching us. Of course they were free, and could go if they wished, but we hadn't come to the point yet where we could realize it. The reason we were obliged to walk home was that the railroads were all torn up, the bridges burned, and so all out of commission as the result of the war. Reaching Selma we found that we could get transportation all the rest of the way home, and this filled us with delight. In due time we reached the loved spot we called home. But it like everything else had undergone a change. The negroes on the old plantation were free, and like a drove of helpless sheep they were wandering up and down the land as if they indeed had lost their shepherd. The crops were started, but the negro, the main dependence for their cultivation, was too much demoralized by his new inheritance to be of much service. With a large plantation, stocked with a lot of shiftless negroes, and other plantations for miles around in the same condition, prospects were gloomy enough. But I was at home among those I loved and it was useless to despond. A great many people in the North were mad with the South on account of her stubborn resistance to what she conceived to be a great wrong, and persistent maintenance of four (Page 145) bloody years in what she conceived to be right. In fact this class of people was in the ascendancy and were determined to humiliate the Southern people by any and all means. The ballot was placed in the hands of the negroes, who had just been liberated out of slavery, and were grossly ignorant. This was done, as said at the time, to put the bottom rail on top, and thus degrade as much as possible the proud yoemanry of the Southern States, and it was a most humiliating piece of legislation. A sorry class of people came South from the North to manipulate and control the negro vote and by this means secure the offices and reap the profits. They had no interest in the welfare' of the country, but rejoiced in harassing the proud white people of the South. They instituted an organization known as "The Union League", and every negro voter was to be enrolled in this organization, and through this means his control was next to perfect. He was told that he owed his freedom to the Republican Party, and the Republican Party was to be represented through "The Union League", and every negro who affiliated with this organization would secure his freedom, and those who did not would eventually be put back into slavery. Being densely ignorant, this had a powerful effect on this poor class of people and they were entirely in the hands of this northern trash that had floated in on the wave (Page 146) of adversity that swept the South. They were dubbed "carpetbaggers", and like the vultures they were, fed on everything that was dirty and had the stench of corruption on it. These were the days of "Reconstruction." How dark and gloomy they were! At the command of the "League" negroes would quit the crops, no matter how urgent and important their presence, and for days and weeks would absent themselves on some political errand their masters, the Carpetbaggers had ordered it and that was sufficient. In those days we could vote anywhere in the county, at any precinct box. The negroes were always ordered to report at the county seat at least a day before election day, so as to receive their instructions and be prepared to cast their ballots as their masters dictated. When the election occurred on Monday, thousands of negroes would be at the county seat by Saturday preceding, thus annoying the town, and would be away from their work for days at a time, thus annoying their employers. I have had mine to drop everything on Friday and put off to Greensboro and not return before Tuesday or Wednesday, leaving their stock and crops without the least concern. There were a few Southern People to the "manor born", who for the sake of a little office and the pay attached went over bag and baggage to this side. These were known as "Skallawags." They were generally more de (Page 147) tested than the Carpetbaggers. The Ku Klux sprang into existence on account of the fearfully disturbed condition of society in general. It was a necessity at the time and did splendid service. A secret organization, and composed of some of the best people in the country, they proposed to straighten out things and right some of the bitter wrongs to which the South was "per force" subjected. They made it hot for the Carpetbaggers and Skallawags and the negroes were made to see that these renegades were not their masters. It often required heroic action to bring about a reaction, but the Ku Klux were equal to the emergency. The present generation will never realize what the South went through in those bitter days of reconstruction, and maybe it is best to forget.

After teaching school a. few months, I joined a schoolboy friend, an old army comrade in a mercantile venture at Reform, Pickens County, Ala. This was a cross roads store, supported entirely by a farming class of people, away off to itself, and as my partner and myself were both inexperienced in business we thought that if we could succeed anywhere it would be here where we had no competition. I am sure it was a good place for the business, but as we were both "green" we made little headway. Reform is now a considerable village with brick stores and a railroad. Had any one predicted the advent of either of (Page 148) these so early to Reform he would have been hustled off to Tuscaloosa to the asylum for the insane. I soon grew tired of this mercantile venture, simply because I knew so little about it. I was actually embarrassed by my ignorance, and sold to my partner and left for Texas to try farming. I had an older brother, Samuel Paul, there. He with his wife and four children were living on a farm which had been bought by my father before the war. It was situated on the Colorado River, near La Grange, Fayette County. The land was exceedingly rich. My brother was farming with free negro labor, and it was a very unsatisfactory, uphill business. I remained with him until crops were made and then returned to Alabama to marry, having become engaged before going to Texas. On the 6th of September, 1866, near Scooba, Kemper County, Miss., I was united in marriage to Miss Mary Brown Hudson, second daughter of William and Mary Brown Hudson, of Mobile, Ala. That fall after marriage, I taught school. The next year I began to farm and have been at it ever since. In 1874, I moved to Springville, St. Clair County, Ala. In the fall of 1875, I moved to Elyton, near Birmingham, and in the fall of 1879, I moved to Woodlawn, Ala. I had purchased here from Mr. 0. W. Wood about eighty acres of land, built a house and a barn, and in a few years, on account of the rapid (Page 149) growth of Birmingham, it became very valuable. The heart of Woodlawn at the present time (1913) is situate on this land which I then owned. The present electric car -line from East Lake to Birmingham runs through the center of my old farm. I gave the right of way to the East Lake car people at the time they were constructing their line. I laid off the first lots ever mapped at Woodlawn. See record in Book A of maps in Probate Office in Birmingham, recorded as the survey of Hood, Wood, and Fulton. This was the first and I superintended the job.

I had a daughter born at Woodlawn, Nov. 1,1880. She died there July 16, 1881. She was named Lucinda Kate, for her aunt Lucinda Katherine Hudson. My wife died there July 26, 1882, and both are buried in the family burying ground of Mr. 0. W. Wood. It is now a beautiful, well-kept cemetery, having been greatly improved by those having it in charge. I visited it last year (1912) and was delighted to see everything so beautifully kept.

My old farm at Woodlawn is covered over with beautiful homes and where a few years ago I was making cotton and corn, is now one of the prettiest of Birmingham's residence suburbs.

I was a member of the House of Representatives of Alabama from Jefferson County, 1894 to '95. Having moved to DeKalb Coun (Page 150) ty, Ala., I was again elected at the general election in November, 1902, to represent that county in the Lower House of the General Assembly of Alabama. Of course I am proud to record these facts here for the benefit of my children. In war my comrades reposed confidence in me and gave me a commissioned officer's place, and again in peace my fellow citizens honored me by sending me to represent them in the legislature. (Page 151)

Family Record and War Reminiscences
by William Frierson Fulton, Jr.
Livingston, AL, 1919
Transcribed by James W. Martin