William Henry Fulk died during the Civil War on July 20, 1864 at the Cumberland Hospital in Nashville, TN. and is buried in the Nashville National Cemetery.
This story has been carried down through generations and these are Rebecca's words as best that can be remembered.
"At the end of the War I was left a widow with seven children and nothing else but an Indiana homestead. I worked and made the ones who were old enough do their share". She bragged that everyone else in Indiana had to ask the government for help but, "she did not even have to hold a wood chopping. I raised sheep, sheared, corded and spun wool into cloth". She tailored suits for the men in the neighborhood and had the first sewing machine in the county. Her children held candles, which they made, to hold for light while she worked. Rebecca was a small women but could pick up a hundred pound sack of grain, throw it over her shoulders and take where she wanted. She was good to her children, but they had to mind even after they were grown. One time her son Jacob, who was a tall man, defied her and she could not handle him. So she waited until he went to bed, took a buggy whip, turned down the covers and gave young Jacob a whipping that none of the children ever forgot. She was always sweet to her grandchildren and as independent as a hog on ice. At times she enjoyed a good smoke on a corn cob pipe.
William Henry Fulk died during the Civil War on July 20, 1864 at the Cumberland Hospital in Nashville, TN. and is buried in the Nashville National Cemetery.
This story has been carried down through generations and these are Rebecca's words as best that can be remembered.
"At the end of the War I was left a widow with seven children and nothing else but an Indiana homestead. I worked and made the ones who were old enough do their share". She bragged that everyone else in Indiana had to ask the government for help but, "she did not even have to hold a wood chopping. I raised sheep, sheared, corded and spun wool into cloth". She tailored suits for the men in the neighborhood and had the first sewing machine in the county. Her children held candles, which they made, to hold for light while she worked. Rebecca was a small women but could pick up a hundred pound sack of grain, throw it over her shoulders and take where she wanted. She was good to her children, but they had to mind even after they were grown. One time her son Jacob, who was a tall man, defied her and she could not handle him. So she waited until he went to bed, took a buggy whip, turned down the covers and gave young Jacob a whipping that none of the children ever forgot. She was always sweet to her grandchildren and as independent as a hog on ice. At times she enjoyed a good smoke on a corn cob pipe.
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