The 175th anniversary of the founding of Fort Martin Scott will be celebrated next month. This anniversary and the relationship between the frontier fort and Fredericksburg will be described in an upcoming issue of our local newspaper. I wrote the following article for the newspaper that describes the horrendous cholera epidemic that befell Fredericksburg and its impact on our struggling community.
The 19th century’s third and worst cholera pandemic, having already killed millions of people world-wide, struck the fledgling town of Fredericksburg and the recently activated Fort Martin Scott in 1848-49. The obituary of Captain (and brevet Major) Collinson R. Gates, the post commander of Fort Martin Scott, reported a raging epidemic of cholera in Fredericksburg, where 30 people had already died. Gates was initially buried at the post cemetery, two miles south of Fredericksburg, and his body was later moved to the post cemetery at Fort Columbus on Governors Island in New York Harbor. It must have been quite expensive for his family to have his remains moved from the Texas frontier to New York City. Surprisingly, Gates was the only person at Fort Martin Scott to die during that cholera epidemic.
It was not understood in the mid-1800s that cholera (also known at the time as the blue plague) was largely a water-borne illness and resulted from poor sanitation. Whereas Fort Martin Scott lay two miles downstream from Fredericksburg on the west bank of Baron’s Creek and from which the soldiers (and many townspeople) obtained their contaminated drinking water, the question arises as to why more soldiers did not die of the deadly disease. The soldiers’ improved fortune at Fort Martin Scott likely resulted from prior immunity developed after cholera had swept through their ranks in December 1848, causing 127 deaths shortly after they landed at Port Lavaca and prior to their transfer to Fort Martin Scott.
Other inhabitants in the area proved not so fortunate. Large but unknown numbers of German settlers succumbed to cholera, as did over 300 Penateka Comanche, the largest of the Comanche tribes. These fatalities included Chief Santana (also called Santa Anna) who, following the Meusebach/Comanche Treaty of May 9, 1847, had befriended the struggling immigrants. Santana’s death severed a vital link between the German immigrants and the Comanche, and the decimated Penateka band disintegrated, with the surviving members joining other Comanche groups.
Additional deaths from cholera occurred in the nearby approximately 200-person Mormon colony of Zodiac, established in 1847 and led by Elder Lyman Wight. The colony, which may have lost up to half its inhabitants to cholera, was located four miles south and downstream of Fredericksburg on the Pedernales River. This severe cholera epidemic, along with political differences with the German immigrants and a spring flood that destroyed the Mormon’s grist mill and many of their homes, prompted the colony’s departure in 1853.
Deaths in San Antonio were even higher, with one-fifth of the city’s population dying within three months. At one point, 25 people in that town were dying every day. Among them was Major General William J. Worth, the commanding general of all U.S. Army units in Texas and the man after whom the city of Fort Worth was named.
While the German immigrants and American soldiers often could not comprehend each other’s language, cooperation nevertheless existed between the two groups. With the arrival of the fort in 1848 came a much-needed infusion of dollars, especially for the German craftsmen and teamsters. Profitable trade also sprung up as the Germans by then were able to provide wood, meat, corn, hay, and other farm produce. In return, the fort provided wages along with sugar and coffee. The soldiers also did everything they could to protect the settlers from horse thieves and other depredations by Native Americans who didn’t feel bound by the existing peace treaty.
For most of the 19th century, cholera was believed to be due to miasma. This quaint medical theory held that cholera resulted from “bad air,” following exposure to filth and decay. It was not until 1855 that John Snow in London demonstrated that contaminated drinking water transmitted the disease. He did so by mapping the location of the cholera cases and their proximity to a water pump on Broad Street (now Broadwick Street). His advocacy led authorities to remove the pump handle, which then limited the outbreak. It was not until 1883 that Robert Koch identified the cholera bacillus (Vibrio cholera) as the infectious agent.
Lacking an understanding of the cause of the disease and its transmission, ineffective treatment of cholera existed in Texas in the mid-1800s. It consisted of bed rest, warm drinks, camphorated alcohol, pepper, cologne, bloodletting and administration of opium (laudanum). The constipating effect of opium slowed the diarrhea, but did nothing for the underlying infection that led to dehydration, electrolyte abnormalities, shock, and rapid death.
At the time, lacking scientific understanding of the disease, attempts at spiritual healing were prevalent. From the pulpits of the many churches in Fredericksburg came spirited appeals for avoidance of sinful ways and prayer for the prevention and cure of the dreaded and often fatal malady.
Between 1846 and 1860, cholera spread from Asia to Europe and then to North America. Cholera may have arrived stateside with Irish immigration. Cholera likely spread to Texas from New Orleans. Also, cross-country travel in the U.S., following the discovery of gold in January 1848, likely hastened the spread of the pandemic westward. The Upper Immigrant Road led northwest out of San Antonio, through Fredericksburg, and on to El Paso. Fredericksburg and the Zodiac communities were, at the time, the last vestige of civilization for the wagon trains that were full of prospectors heading west for the California gold fields. Given that these frontier communities were the gathering point for the ‘49ers, the chances for local spread of the illness were good.
One example of how the German immigrants and soldiers cooperated for medical purposes can be recalled that benefited an injured German man. The local man had accidentally shot himself in the leg and required amputation of his injured extremity. The practice of anesthesia at the time was in its infancy, but had recently made its arrival at the fort. Under ether anesthesia, the German underwent amputation, performed by the Post Surgeon and with considerably less discomfort than otherwise would have been the case.
In general, relations between the Germans and the soldiers at Fort Martin Scott were cordial and mutually beneficial. Many soldiers identified with the struggling German immigrants and their many hardships, including hunger, poverty and disease. The two groups needed each other and provided mutual economic benefit and moral support.
Also given the harshness of life on the Texas frontier, a mutual respect and appreciation existed that allowed the struggling town and the frontier fort to grow, prosper, and survive during extremely challenging times. Through such struggle came well-deserved admiration and cooperation between the town and fort.
If you haven’t had the chance to read my most recent book, Hitler’s Maladies and Their Impact on World War II, I hope you will pick up a copy. It can be purchased from Amazon or your favorite local bookstore. Likewise my earlier book, Carrying The Black Bag: A Neurologist’s Bedside Tales recounts the challenges, humor, and courage of people struggling to right their lives in the face of neurological disease.
Views From Medicine Spirit Ranch 