To say the residents of Cullman are proud of its rich German heritage would be far from an understatement. Each year the city hosts one of the state’s largest and longest running Oktoberfest celebrations. One group, The Friends of Frankweiler, have developed and maintained a tight-knit relationship with Cullman’s sister-city of Frankweiler, Germany and even held an honorary “birthday” party to celebrate the 200th anniversary of city founder, John G. Cullmann’s birth. But, like many beloved historical recollections, many of the nuances of truth can be lost in their retellings. 

Anyone who has spent any length of time within the city, or researching it, is sure to have heard the tale of when Colonel John Cullmann first laid eyes on the undeveloped land while horseback riding through North Alabama: Sunbeams parted the clouds and flocks of doves arose from the treetops. Cullmann was immediately reminded of his homeland and its rich vineyards and wineries and knew he had found the place he would create a thriving German community. 

Obvious embellishments aside, Col. Cullmann Museum Director Drew Green said this legend likely does contain bits of truth, but like most fairy tales, does not paint a complete picture of how our community came to be or of its founder. Through a handful of historical newspaper clippings, letters and a conversation with Green, it becomes apparent that the true history of Cullmann — the man and the city — is much more interesting. 

Due to his political activism while in Germany, Green said Cullmann first emigrated to the U.S. after being driven to financial ruin for his resistance to Germany’s unification. 

“He left Germany because Otto von Bismarck wanted to unite all of the German republics and he wanted his home, Bavaria, to keep its independence. He ultimately wasn’t successful in that and lost his fortune and wasn’t too popular with the government at the time,” Green said.

It was possibly around this time, when Cullmann adopted the title of Colonel. Although there is dispute over exactly when the prefix attached to his name, Green said at least one account suggests Cullmann began being referred to as Colonel after leading a brief revolt in opposition to Bismarck, while others suggest it began much later. Either way, Green said the title has always been strictly honorary. 

“It’s just a nickname, kind of like Colonel Sanders. He was never in the German army,” Green said.

After arriving in the America, Cullmann set out to fulfill his dream of forming a German settlement within the U.S. He spent several years visiting existing communities for inspiration and was nearly successful in both Florence and Tuscumbia before local landowners nearly tripled the previously agreed upon property costs. 

It wasn’t until his business relationship with the German-born civil engineer Albert Fink that Cullmann was given the opportunity that would lead to his first successful settlement. Fink was working towards the development of the South and North Railroad — which was eventually acquired by L&N — and helped secure a deal for roughly 350,000 acres which Cullmann was charged with developing. 

Green said at the time, locomotives required frequent stops to avoid overheating and it was in the railroad company’s best interest to develop settlements around these stops. While Cullmann was not given ownership of the land, he was able to collect a commission on the properties he sold.

According to Green, Cullmann was a natural salesman and land agent. After building his house directly across from the train depot, he said Cullmann made a habit of waiting on his front porch for visitors to arrive and would tout the areas potential for farming and valuable timber.

The general consensus at the time was that Cullmann’s settlement in one of the poorest sections of the state was doomed for failure due to its less than ideal farming conditions. But as Cullmann began drawing the hard-working and driven people of his homeland to the area, this mindset began to shift. 

In a letter sent by Cullmann to the Livingston Journal, he describes the amount of growth his settlement had experienced, less than a year after its founding. 

“The result surpasses our most sanguine expectations. Just think of it! It was but eight months ago that Cullmann Station was in the backwoods with not a single long cabin. Now we have a neat town, with forty-five houses, daily increasing, three schools and churches, two hotels, three stores, two saw mills and one planing mill, with all kinds of ships and other conveniences,” the letter reads.

Still, there were a number of challenges Cullmann needed to hurdle in order to reach this point, one of the largest being the small number of property owners who had already established homesteads in the area. The town was arranged in half acre lots, and the agreement designated all even numbered lots for homesteaders and odd sections given to the railroad. Settlers who had already built homes on odd sections were required to float their assets to even sections. 

“Most settlements at the time were anxiously awaiting for the railroad to come through. The people who were already living in Cullman were the exact opposite,” Green said. 

Numerous accounts describe how in 1874 one of these disputes resulted in violence, when several settlers attempted to murder Cullmann, thinking that the town’s development would interfere with their business dealings. One of these settlers attacked Cullmann with a large knife, stabbing him twice in the forehead and destroying a portion of his skull leaving his brain exposed. Cullmann narrowly avoided death thanks to a heavy felt hat he was wearing at the time. He carried a large scar for the remainder of his life.

Cullmann continued building his vision by founding the town of Garden City in 1876. He would make frequent trips to Europe to encourage immigration and was personally responsible for more than 100,000 people migrating to North Alabama. He eventually entered into additional contracts with L&N to develop an additional three million acres of land between Decatur and Montgomery. 

On Dec. 3, 1895 Cullmann was overcome by “the blighting influence of old age and complete exhaustion” and died having fulfilled his vision. The mayor at the time, George H. Parker, noted this during his speech at Cullmann’s funeral saying, “More lasting, more imperishable than the work of hands in brass or stone is the monument he has built for himself and to which he has given his name, the city and county of Cullman.”

26 years later in 1921, reporter Fanny Rosson, with The Birmingham Age-Herald, spoke of the impact Cullmann had on North Alabama noting how at the time, Cullman County ranked second in the nation for per capita wealth.

“Cullman and Cullman County is the realization of the dream of a broad-minded, liberal thinker. He certainly did more for this section of the state than any other one man or group of men. Tall and slender and fine looking, he stuck to the little colony, acting its guide in all things until he lived to see it be one of the most prosperous and attractive spots of our entire country.”