Texas Historical Marker

Dr. William Watt White

Cuero · DeWitt County · placed 1965

Civil War

Hear Duane tell it

DeWitt County, Texas

Duane's take

Now, I'm gonna tell this one the way the official marker tells it — and friend, this one earns every word. Dr. William Watt White.

Born 1829, died 1914. Surgeon of Waul's Legion, Confederate Army. He came to Texas about 1850, got his medical degree in Philadelphia in 1856, and when the war came, he went to work in conditions that would test the sanity of any healer alive.

But let's talk about those conditions, because the marker doesn't skip them, and neither will I. Confederate surgeons faced problems that would make a modern doctor go pale. Drug supply — gone.

Surgical tools — scarce. Horse-drawn ambulances — never around when you needed one. Instruments had to be bought in Europe and shipped through a naval blockade, or captured directly from the enemy.

Think about that the next time you picture a surgeon setting out to save a life. He might be working with tools that came off a battlefield rather than out of a kit. Drugs came in by blockade-runner, or — and here's where it gets remarkable — they were brought from the North by ladies who hid them on their person.

In pompadours. In bustles. In petticoats.

Those women were smuggling medicine through enemy lines one hidden parcel at a time. When even that wasn't enough, the scarcities pushed Confederate medicine toward the woods and the garden. Dogwood bark tea, willow bark, poplar bark — substitutes for quinine.

Mullein and wild herbs pressed into medical service. Garden poppies milked for opium. Sutures made of horsehair, softened by boiling, or thread raveled out of silk cloth.

And this — this was the first war in history to use anesthetics. The first time a man going under the saw had something to dull it. That sounds like progress, and it was, but don't let it soften the picture too much.

Because amputations left severed limbs stacked like wood around the field hospitals. Ambulances seemed never at hand for the casualties, and many men died simply waiting for aid that didn't arrive in time. The marker says it plainly: until the atom bomb, the Civil War was history's bloodiest.

Dr. White moved through all of that. Saved many lives.

And then the war gave him something in return — typhoid, which contributed to the loss of his eyesight. After blindness took him, he kept practicing medicine. Kept at it for the rest of his life.

He also served DeWitt County as a local educational and civic leader. A man who went blind and didn't stop. Who learned his medicine in Philadelphia, built his practice in Texas, and stitched people back together with boiled horsehair in a war that the marker calls the bloodiest in history — right up until it wasn't.

That's Dr. William Watt White. And that's a life that doesn't need any embellishment from me.

What the marker says

(1829 - 1914) Surgeon of Waul's Legion, Confederate Army. Came to Texas about 1850. In 1856 got M.D. degree in Philadelphia. During Civil War, saved many lives, but took typhoid, which contributed to loss of his eyesight. After blindness, practiced rest of his life. Was local educational and civic leader, this county. Confederate doctors had many problems with drug supply, surgical tools, horse-drawn ambulances and hospitals. Instruments had to be bought in Europe (shipped through naval blockade) or captured from the foe. Drugs came in by blockade - runner or were brought from North by ladies who hid them on their person: in pompadours, bustles, petticoats. Scarcities led to use of dogwood, willow and poplar bark tea as substitute for quinine. Mullein and other wild herbs were also medical substitutes. Garden poppies were milked for opium. Sutures were made of horsehair softened by boiling, or by raveling silk cloth. Female nurses were used for first time in army hospitals. This was first war to use anesthetics. Amputations left severed limbs stacked like wood around the field hospitals. Ambulances seemed never at hand for casualties; many died awaiting aid. Till the atom bomb, the Civil War was history's bloodiest.

Hear thousands of these as you drive.

Duane reads Texas historical markers out loud, hands-free, in his own voice. Join early access and we'll tell you the moment he's ready to ride.