AN OHIO DOCTOR IN THE EARLY NAVY
by HOWARD D. KRAMER
Assistant Professor of History,
Western Reserve University
Recently the journals of Lewis A.
Wolfley, an Ohio doctor who
served in the United States Navy from
1832 to 1844, were lent to
the writer by a representative of
Wolfley's descendants.
The manuscript material in the Wolfley
Collection consists of
the surgeon's journals on four cruises
and his diary in Paris, where
he studied medicine under world-famous
physicians and surgeons
in 1836.1 The collection also contains
many letters received by
Wolfley, copies of letters he wrote to
the navy department and his
friends, essays submitted to the
Athenian Society of Ohio Uni-
versity, his expense account while in
Paris, and other miscellaneous
items.
The record of Wolfley's journeys to
three continents, in addition
to presenting a splendid picture of the
sailing navy on the eve
of its conversion to steam, reveals how
an Ohioan from a frontier
settlement viewed life in the more
civilized centers of the world.
Lewis A. Wolfley was born on February
14, 1807, at Elizabeth-
town, Pennsylvania. His father, John
Wolfley, settled in Elizabeth-
town during the Revolutionary War. In
1794 he became quarter-
master in the second company of
Lancaster militia, commanded
by a Captain Heinselman.2 About
this time he married Elizabeth
Heintzelman, the mother of Lewis.
At the age of eleven, young Wolfley, a
brown-haired, blue-eyed
lad of fair complexion,3 set
out on the long journey across the
mountains to Ohio in the custody of an
older sister, Catherine, and
her husband, Dr. William N. Luckey. In
the spring of 1819 the
three emigrants settled in Circleville,
Ohio.
Wolfley's love of reading and learning,
so noticeable throughout
his life, indicates that Dr. Luckey did
not neglect the education
1 The journals fall into five natural
divisions: West Indies Cruise, Mediterranean
Cruise, Paris, South American Cruise,
and African Cruise.
2 Pennsylvania Archives, Sixth Series (15 vols., Harrisburg,
1906-7), IV, 470.
3 Passport description, February
11, 1842. Wolfley Collection.
155
156 Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
of his ward. Certainly young Wolfley
could not have found two
more lovable foster parents. A resident
of the community who knew
the Luckeys well declared that "a
more generous, clever, whole-
souled couple never lived in
Circleville. Aunt Luckey was the per-
sonification of generosity and
goodness, as everyone that lived
by her could testify."4
In return for the favors bestowed on
him by the Luckeys,
Wolfley helped his brother-in-law mix
drugs and roll pills. Dr.
Luckey was an excellent preceptor of
apprentices, and in his ward
he had an apt pupil. At the age of
eighteen Wolfley was granted
the right to practice medicine by the
censors of the tenth medical
district.5 A full-fledged
doctor in his own right now, he moved to
Athens, Ohio, the home of Ohio
University, where he struggled
to establish a practice, not without
success.6
Although Wolfley never became a student
at the college, he
formed many intimate friendships with
the students and professors.
A. G. Brown, editor of the Athens
Mirror, became a close friend
of his,7 as did Dwight Jarvis, who was
an officer in the Ohio
Militia and influential in that
organization.8 Not long after arriving
in Athens the new doctor was invited to
take part in the programs
of the Athenian Society--a privilege
not permitted to lie fallow,
as the numerous essays and papers
prepared by Wolfley for delivery
at the society's meetings attest.
These essays, while afflicted with the
twin failings of youth,
broad generalization and abstract
moralizing, furnish many clues
to Wolfley's character. His distaste
for frontier living conditions
is disclosed by his many tirades
against the tobacco-filled cheeks
and discourteous manners of his
contemporaries. His preoccupation
4 W. H. Yerington in the Circleville Union-Herald
(October 1887), in History
of Pickaway County, Ohio, and
Representative Citizens, edited by
Aaron R. Van
Cleaf (Chicago, 1906), 95.
5 The certificate is signed by Samuel F.
Angier, E. Webb, E. Duning, Edson B.
Olds, and Joseph Scott, and is dated May
31, 1825. Wolfley Collection.
6 An
open letter of recommendation, written by the Rev. Robert G. Wilson,
president of Ohio University, who states
that Wolfley's "character was highly re-
spectable and that his business in the
line of his profession while in Athens has
been considerable." Wolfley
Collection.
7 Other good friends of Wolfley's with
whom he corresponded included Calvary
Morris, later a congressman from 1836 to
1842; Daniel Read, professor of ancient
languages at Ohio University; and
William Medill, governor of Ohio in 1854.
8 His friendship with Jarvis was probably responsible for Wolfley's
acceptance of
an adjutant's commission in the militia
in 1828. Seemingly he developed little
interest in the organization and
resigned his commission two years later.
An Ohio Doctor in the Early
Navy 157
with two themes is especially
noticeable. The first was his devotion
to the Christian religion; throughout
his life Wolfley remained a
staunch member of the Presbyterian
Church. The other was the
future, particularly his future.
An undertone of bafflement and
frustration seems ever present in his
writings. He kept asking
himself: "What have I done that's
worth the doing? What have I
learn'd that's worth the
learning?"
In the fall of 1829 he gave up his
practice in Athens and moved
to Cincinnati, where he matriculated at
the Ohio Medical College on
November 2.9 Daily
throughout the winter and following spring this
tall young man listened attentively to
the brilliant anatomy lectures
of Jedediah Cobb.10 From
other members of the capable faculty he
took courses in chemistry and pharmacy,
materia medica, surgery,
obstetrics, and the theory and practice
of medicine.11 In June Wolfley
received a diploma of graduation.
He did not return to Athens but settled
in Lancaster, Ohio, a
community of fifteen hundred citizens.
Renting an office on Main
Street near the courthouse, he offered
"his professional services to
the citizens of Lancaster, and
vicinity."12
While Wolfley waited for the
inhabitants to avail themselves of
this opportunity for medical attention,
he had many hours which
could be used for reading. The many
travelers' tales of foreign
parts which came under Wolfley's eyes
had an irresistible appeal to
the romantic side of his nature. As
with youths the world over, travel
enticed as a method of escape from the
humdrum of life. While in
Lancaster "there are many nice
people," he wrote to Leon Longue-
mare, a friend of his in Gallipolis,
"I am living like an anchoret."
Then he expressed his longing to see
Paris:
While I am content at Lancaster I still
think of Paris. I am young, I
believe I could become a citizen of the
world. . . . I should like to travel
over the world for five years. After
this I would buy a little farm--then
I would settle there and I would marry
and-then-I would die.13
9 Registrar's office of the College of
Medicine, University of Cincinnati.
10 See Otto Juettner, Daniel Drake
and His Followers (Cincinnati, 1909), 124-126,
for a brief biographical sketch of
Jedediah Cobb.
11 Admittance cards to courses at the
Ohio Medical College. Wolfley Collection.
12 The
Lancaster Gazette, April 5-19, 1831, contained a series of
advertisements
inserted by Wolfley.
13 Wolfley to Leon Longuemare,
Lancaster, July 26, 1831. Wolfley Collection.
somewhere Wolfley had picked up a
creditable knowledge of French, and this letter
was written in that language.
158 Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
This aspiration to become "a
citizen of the world," however,
was not the only motive behind
Wolfley's decision to join the navy.
The life of a country doctor required
first of all a good constitution,
then patience in the matter of pay.
Wolfley had neither of these
qualities. At the end of his first
short voyage as a naval surgeon, he
explained that he had entered the navy
to put an end to "this riding
about through mud, and rain, losing
sleep at nights and being called
out of a warm bed, to go and attend to
some worthless vagabond."
Once in the navy, there would also be
an end to all dunnings for
fees, for "it was cash down pay,
when you chose to demand it."14
In Lancaster circumstances shaped
themselves to favor Wolfley's
chances of successfully applying for a
commission in the navy. He
was courting Eleanor Ann Irvin,
daughter of William W. Irvin, a
former supreme court judge of Ohio, and
a congressman at Wash-
ington at this time.15 He
also became well acquainted with Senator
Thomas Ewing, who lived in Lancaster.16
In late 1831 or early 1832
Wolfley made use of these contacts to
apply for a position as naval
surgeon. With such influential
political support, it was not sur-
prising that on June 22, 1832, he
received his commission as surgeon
in the United States Navy. A month
later Wolfley found in his mail
instructions to report for duty on the
sloop St. Louis at Norfolk, sail-
ing to join the West Indies squadron in
October. He resigned his
position as secretary of the 13th
district of the Medical Society of
Ohio,17 and took leave of
his family and friends.
On October 31, 1832, the St. Louis, Captain
John T. Newton
commanding, hauled up anchor and in
company with the sloop
Vandalia tacked her way out of Hampton Roads. Wolfley planned
to keep a personal journal of
the cruise, and he began his entries
14 Journal
of the West Indies Cruise, December 31, 1832. Wolfley Collection.
15 William W. Irvin (1778-1842) moved to
Lancaster from Charlottesville, Va.
about 1801. He was a judge of the Ohio
Supreme Court, 1810-16; speaker of the
Ohio House of Representatives in 1825
and 1826; and a Democratic member of the
21st and 22d congresses (March 4, 1829,
to March 3, 1833). He retired to his
farm near Lancaster after his defeat for
reelection, where he engaged in agri-
cultural pursuits until his death on
March 28, 1842.
16 Thomas Ewing (1789-1871) graduated from Ohio University in 1815; prac
ticed law in Lancaster until elected as
a Whig to the United States Senate (1831-37)
and afterwards became secretary of the interior under
President Taylor (1849-50)
He was appointed secretary of war by
President Johnson on February 22, 1868, but
the senate refused to confirm the
appointment.
17 Wolfley
had been elected to this office at the annual meeting on May 29, 1832
Lancaster Gazette, June 28, 1832.
An Ohio Doctor in the Early
Navy 159
a week before sailing. He started this
diary with two purposes in
view. First, he hoped in this way to
accustom himself to writing,
and second, he expected to use
"his running thoughts and un-
digested observations" at some
future date to recall this part of
his life. He remained faithful to his
avowed purposes. Scarcely
a day passed without an entry of some
sort being made. While at
first he recorded his thoughts and
reflections at great length and
with prosy solemnity, this tendency
abated as time went on, to be
replaced by more matter-of-fact
observations of the daily happenings
about him. His journals, however,
lacked the candidness of a diary
composed for the amusement and
entertainment of the writer alone,
because Wolfley expected others to read
what he put down.18 Thus
he refrained from recording any
personal information concerning
the ship's company. He failed to
mention by name his fellow officers,
even Surgeon Augustus A. Adee,19 who
instructed him in his new
duties. By nature an introvert and
dreamer, Wolfley confined his
remarks mainly to his own thoughts and
feelings.
During the first week on the open sea
this Ohio and Pennsyl-
vania farmer boy reveled in his new
life. He loved to stretch out
on the bowsprit, idly watching the prow
of the vessel push the
water aside while quotations from
Byron's Don Juan came bubbling
to his lips. On clear nights he usually
mounted to the poop deck
over the rudder, where he rhapsodized
on the beauty of the starlit
sea. Were his friends at home thinking
of him, he wondered, pictur-
ing him here upon the "faithless
sea"? Or did they suppose him
safe on some foreign shore "after
being exposed to the perils of
the ocean"?
When the first Sabbath at sea came,
Wolfley replaced the grey
or brown drilling trousers which he
ordinarily wore on shipboard
with more formal white pantaloons. The
short jacket of week days
gave way to a dark blue cloth coat set
off by a strip of half-inch lace
around the cuff.20 The crew
also donned their best dress. Wolfley
18 "Such
friends as may happen to glance over these notes." Journal of the African
Cruise, August 9, 1843. Wolfley
Collection.
19 Augustus A. Adee was appointed a
surgeon's mate, July 15, 1824; became a
surgeon on January 3, 1828; and
died on February 23, 1844.
20 Naval General Order, December 24, 1834, signed by
Secretary of the Navy
Mahlon Dickerson, prescribing changes in
uniform dress. Broadsheet in Wolfley
Collection.
160
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
thought their uniform simple but
beautiful. It consisted of a white
tarpaulin hat with black ribbon band, a
white shirt with blue nankeen
collar trimmed with four white stripes
along the edge, a blue sailor
jacket, and black shoes or pumps.
Sunday brought no cessation of
duties, merely a brief recess in the
daily routine of ship's life while
Captain Newton held a short religious
service before the assembled
crew.
The sloop sailed along the route
traveled by Columbus, and
Wolfley, who was reading Irving's Life
of Columbus, noted with
keen interest that the indications of
land which gave so much
encouragement to Columbus were
repeating themselves before his
eyes. He displayed almost as much
eagerness to sight land as
Columbus, partly because of his desire
to set foot on foreign soil
for the first time in his life, and
partly to feel the solid ground
under his legs once more.
By the time the St. Louis reached
the Caribbean and anchored
at Cape Haitien for three days, Wolfley
was heartily sick and tired
of life at sea. "Nothing daunts a
sailor," sang Wolfley exultantly
on starting the cruise, but when he
said this he had not taken into
account seasickness. From the moment he
put foot on deck he
became a victim of this debilitating
malady. He continually com-
plained of his queasiness, caused by
"nausea Marina." After a bad
siege he wrote despondently: "My
suffering with this salt water
malady almost induces me at times to
forswear . . . all salt water
life, and to return to terra
firma." He concluded to "stick it out a
while longer" in the hope that he
could overcome this weakness.
He never did while on the St. Louis,
although he sounded one
cheerful note on the subject during the
cruise. "I suffered very much
[from seasickness] until noon when I
partook of a dinner of Cod-fish
and potatoes since which time I have
felt it but little." A unique
remedy, to say the least!
On December 6, thirty-eight days out of
Norfolk, the sloop cast
anchor at the Pensacola navy yard.
Homesick and physically wasted
by the frequent assaults of
seasickness, Wolfley obtained permission
to move to the naval hospital on shore
until he regained his health.
He did not mend rapidly enough,
however, to reembark on the
St. Louis when it put out to sea a month later.
An Ohio Doctor in the Early
Navy 161
On the last day of 1832, as he sat in
his hospital room looking
out upon a dismal, rain-swept
landscape, he experienced a poignant
feeling of disappointment. His morbid
self-inspection returned.
He had gone to sea to escape the
hardships of a country doctor's
existence and to avoid the necessity of
dunning patients. Could he
truthfully say it was worth the thirty
dollars a month he received?
Had he bettered his position in the
world, his enjoyment of life?
What a paradise I was to live in--at
least a paradise of negatives. Well,
I did enter the navy. I got my cash to
be sure, but then there is the loss
of the society of my friends. . . . No
sooner was I sacrificing [myself] to the
old god Neptune than all the pleasures
of a country life rose up to view,
as if to torment me, for my ingratitude
towards them. I called to mind the
many pleasant rides I had made into the
country, visiting the sick, ad-
ministering to their relief, receiving
their thanks, and obtaining their
gratitude for life. . . . But now at
sea-no fields of waving grain, no
beautiful gardens, no fine meadows, no
smoothly gliding streams, no
pleasant walks, and no country visiting
parties to delight me-nothing but
the same rolling motion, the same
heaving and heaving of the stomach,
and loathing of food.
While resting at Pensacola, Wolfley
sent two requests to the
secretary of the navy for a transfer to
the U. S. S. Delaware, a ship-of-
the-line scheduled for Mediterranean
duty in the summer. In late
March, before hearing from the navy
department, he left for home.
He reached Cincinnati on April 25.
Wolfley scarcely had time to
greet his family and friends before he
received orders to report to
the Delaware, in dock at
Norfolk.
The U. S. S. Delaware, 92 guns,
was one of the largest vessels
in the United States Navy. It measured
210 feet in length, and
more than nine hundred seamen and
marines were needed to man
this floating fortress. The ship
carried four doctors.21
Wolfley could consider himself
fortunate in having received this
billet on the Delaware. The navy
department was flooded with
applications for transfers whenever a
first-rate ship was assigned
to European waters, for service with
the Mediterranean squadron
was highly prized by officers because
of the chance it gave them
to travel in Europe.22 Wolfley
was eager for duty on this ship-of-
21 Niles' Weekly Register, September 7, 1833.
22 Gardner Weld Allen, ed., Papers of
Commodore Hull (Boston, 1929), 87.
162 Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
the-line for another reason. His
attacks of seasickness would be less
severe on a vessel of the Delaware's
size.
This opinion became substantiated when
the ship, Captain Henry
E. Ballard in command,23 left
New York harbor on August 14, 1833.
Wolfley hardly realized he was at sea,
so steady and comfortable
was the vessel, and he soon fell into a
pleasant routine. For the
first time he really enjoyed his life
on board ship. Each morning
at seven, when he awoke, his loblolly
boy brought him water with
which to wash and shave. Breakfast was
at eight and afterwards
he promenaded the deck until the
ringing of the "sick bell" at
nine. The list of patients stayed well
below the fifty mark during
the four week crossing to Cherbourg, so
his professional duties re-
quired little of his time. He devoted
most of his mornings to
reading or writing, as he felt
inclined. After the noon meal he
chatted with his fellow officers on
deck or, if he could find an
opponent, played chess. Often he took a
nap at this hour. At four
o'clock in the afternoon everyone
assembled on the quarter deck
to attend prayers. Wolfley enjoyed this
ceremony. A feeling of awe
stole over him as he viewed the
setting: the ship driving along at
nine or ten knots under full sails, the
crew on the main deck with
bowed heads, and no sound to be heard
but the whistling of the
breeze through the rigging and the
splash of waters thrown aside
from the bow of the ship.24
As soon as the prayer ended, the seamen
carried their hammocks
from the upper deck, where the bedding
had been airing, to the
lower gun deck. Here the sailors swung
up their hammocks, making
them ready for turning in that night.
While this was going on, the
officers and guests of the ship
remained on deck and had tea.
Afterwards the band stationed itself on
the poop, and waltzes and
cotillions were stepped off to its
music. Wolfley took little part in
these dances, which were a
"fashionable amusement" among his
23 Henry E. Ballard joined the navy on April 2, 1804. His rank was raised
to that
of captain in 1825. He died on May 23,
1855.
24 See
T. O. Selfridge, "Extracts from the Letters of Lieutenant T. O. Selfridge,
Written in 1833, During a Cruise of the
'U. S. S. Delaware,'" United States Naval
Institute Proceedings, LIII (1927), 184-187. "We have prayers every
evening, a cere-
mony that I have never seen observed in
any other of our vessels of war," Selfridge
wrote. Wolfley's description agrees
closely with that of Selfridge.
An Ohio Doctor in the Early
Navy 163
fellows, but found greater enjoyment in
watching the sailors dance
their jigs and contres on the spar
deck.
But his thoughts and interests were
centered more on Europe
than on the entertainments of life
aboard ship. When the Delaware
docked at Cherbourg on September 11,
1833, he rushed ashore to
observe and comment. His first
impression as he strolled about the
town was the fixed character of the
civilization. "There are certain
rules and habits which have been
customary from time immemorial
and these and the people continue
unchanged," he wrote. The
people seemed happy and content, he
noted as he looked about him,
probably because they were accustomed
to this kind of government.
In his mind he compared it with the
United States, where lived
"the most disorderly people in the
world," and where the only
safeguard against outright anarchy was
education. He felt sure a
rigid, fixed society would not work in
America; it would only
make the people more disorderly and
discontented, and eventually
lead to the rule of a tyrant in order
to do away with the arbitrary
sway of confusion and discord.
On several of Wolfley's trips to shore
he hired a horse and rode
out into the country. This gave him a
chance to observe the living
conditions of the peasants. In no way
did they live as well as the
common people in the United States, he
commented. Yet in some
respects, he confessed, they must be
acknowledged superior to the
American farmer. The peasants'
frugality; the modesty of the
women; the absence of impolite
curiosity, so prevalent in the United
States; the courtesy shown to
strangers: all impressed Wolfley
favorably. These qualities developed
from necessity, he supposed,
where men lived so close together.
The Mediterranean squadron wintered at
Port Mahon, Minorca.
In no time at all Wolfley was drawn
into a whirl of social engage-
ments. Picnics, masquerades,
theatre-going, hunting, dancing lessons,
dinner parties, and short excursions
about the island succeeded in
filling his every available moment. He
finally discontinued keeping
his journal, so completely did this
constant round of activity
monopolize his time.
By springtime Wolfley wearied of this
social life; he enthusias-
tically greeted the coming of May and
the imminent departure of
164 Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
the Delaware. The squadron
planned to encircle the Mediterranean,
and Wolfley looked forward expectantly
to this tour, for it would
give him an opportunity to become
acquainted with the centers of
culture of the ancient world.
The Delaware called at Toulon,
Marseilles, Leghorn, Naples,
Alexandria, Jaffa, and Malta. At each
port Wolfley crowded in as
much sightseeing as time permitted. His
appetite for art galleries,
palaces, cathedrals, and ancient ruins
never seemed to become sated.
He particularly enjoyed an inland trip
to Jerusalem, but his pleasure
in this pilgrimage was soon dimmed by
the outbreak of smallpox
aboard the vessel--quite understandably
so, for he became a victim
of this disease. He had scarcely
recovered from his illness when
the ship reached Port Mahon, in October
1834, only to find cholera
raging ashore. Within a few weeks the
dreaded plague had struck
among the crew of the Delaware, and
Wolfley was busy twenty-four
hours a day treating the sick.25 He
had no time for his journals, and
not until March could Wolfley leave the
temporary hospital estab-
lished on Kings Island in the harbor of
Mahon and return to his
quarters on the orlop deck of the Delaware.
In the summer of 1835 the squadron
sailed on another tour of
the Mediterranean. Wherever the vessels
cast anchor, Wolfley by
questions and observation added to his
treasured fund of knowledge
concerning the history and customs of
the country. His journal
became the repository for this
information. Often he wrote late
into the night to fill page after page
with a detailed account of
his sightseeing activities.26
His desire to become a citizen of the
world had been achieved.
He wrote that he could now associate
with dukes and duchesses and
feel himself "perfectly at ease
and at home," and he felt that his
contact with European civilization had
provided him with a back-
25 Cholera, from the moment of its
appearance in Europe in 1830, excited Wolfley's
professional interest. In the Wolfley
Collection are three papers on this disease, two
of them concerned primarily with its
nature and means of propagation, the third
with its treatment. This last was
written after Wolfley's experience with cholera at
Port Mahon. These papers are good
summaries of the opinions on cholera prevailing
in Wolfley's day. For accounts of the
cholera epidemic of the 1830's, see Daniel
Drake, An Account of the Epidemic
Cholera As It Appeared in Cincinnati (Cin-
cinnati, 1832); House Executive
Documents, 43 cong., 2 sess., No. 95; John Sharpe
Chambers, Conquest of Cholera (New
York, 1938).
26 New ports of call on this second tour
were Gibraltar, Tripoli, and Palermo.
An Ohio Doctor in the Early
Navy 165
ground of culture which could stand the
strain of any conversation,
no matter how heavily intellectual it
might be.
When in early October the Delaware weighed
anchor and set
the course for the United States,
Wolfley had seldom been happier.
He rejoiced each time a fresh breeze
swelled the sails. "The next
move will be the grand move for home,"
he thought joyfully at
Port Mahon, where the Delaware had
stopped on her last Medi-
terranean call. Sitting with his open
diary before him, he amused
himself for awhile by imagining his
homecoming-the tears and
smiles of welcome for him and his
unbounded delight at meeting
his friends again. "How I shall
enjoy myself," he exulted.
Four days later, on October 27, 1835,
Wolfley suddenly decided
not to return with the ship, but to
satisfy another and apparently
even stronger desire of his. He
resolved to study medicine in Paris,
the center of the medical world. Thus,
three weeks later, he stood
on shore and sorrowfully watched the Delaware's
sails dwindle
into the distance.
In Paris Wolfley quartered at No. 18
Rue de l'Ancienne Comedie.
He applied himself industriously to his
studies. His daily routine
varied little. Awake and through
breakfast at the Cafe Procope by
seven,27 or earlier, he
usually went first to the Hopital de la Charite
to watch the famous surgeon Armand
Velpeau28 operate. Leaving
at the end of the morning, he employed
the hours from noon to
three in listening to lectures at the
Ecole de Medecine, following
Roux29 through the wards at
the Hotel Dieu, or visiting other hos-
pitals. In the evening he usually
accompanied some American friends
to the restaurant at the Palais Royal,
where for forty sous he could
obtain an excellent dinner.30 After
the meal Wolfley returned to
his rooms to read or study. On rare
occasions he saw an opera or
attended a party which lasted into the
small hours of the morning.
27 The
Cafe Procope was located across from Wolfley's rooms. This famous cafe
had been a gathering place for Voltaire,
Rousseau, Diderot, and other beaux esprits
of the eighteenth century.
28 Alfred
Armand Velpeau (1795-1867) was a professor of clinical surgery in
Paris and one of the great surgeons of
the day.
29 Philibert-Joseph Roux (1780-1854)
became surgeon at the Hopital de la Charite
in 1810, and later at the Hotel Dieu.
After the death of Dupuytren, in 1835, he was
considered the most eminent French
surgeon. He specialized in articulate resections.
30 Frances Trollope, Paris and the Parisians in 1835 (New York,
1836), 24.
166 Ohio
State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
On days following these infrequent
dissipations, he seldom called
at the hospitals but remained at home
and rested.
He kept a detailed account of his
expenses while in Paris. The
sums he paid for medical instruction
were carefully recorded. To
Velpeau he gave twenty-seven francs for
the privilege of watching
him operate, while a private course in
dissecting cost thirty francs.
His personal expenditures were kept at
a minimum. His monthly
outlay averaged about three hundred
francs, an amount well within
his budget he noted with satisfaction
in April. "Thus far we run
before the wind," he commented.
In the clinics Wolfley witnessed
countless surgical operations,
the majority confined to amputations,
fistulas, cataracts, dropsy, and
hernia. Because of the many deaths
which followed amputations,
Wolfley criticized both Roux and
Velpeau for operating so fre-
quently. Another thing which astonished
him was the opinion ex-
pressed by both men that an amputation
of a finger was as dangerous
as severing a limb near the trunk of
the body. Apparently Wolfley's
experience had been just the reverse.
Velpeau, in addition, held
the view that amputations were less
likely to be fatal to the sickly
than the strong and healthy. "In
the former," this physician told
Wolfley, "the removal of a limb
acts like the lopping off [of]
supernumerary branches of a tree, the
life of the whole becomes
more robust." As Velpeau continued
to lose patient after patient
from infection following minor
operations, he became visibly
annoyed, finally blaming his bad luck
on the unfavorable weather
conditions for operating.
Wolfley did not agree with Velpeau's
weather hypothesis. He
noted that in deaths which resulted
after the removal of a finger
there was seldom any sign of
inflammation around the wound and
the bone usually seemed sound. Velpeau
attributed these deaths
"to the fluids of the body,
to absorption of pus, or to some unknown
cause." Wolfley inclined toward
the unknown cause as the respon-
sible agent, saying:
There is something very strange in
this, to me something unaccountable.
Lately there have been no less than
three or four deaths consecutive to
operations of fingers (amputated) in
this hospital. And but a few days
ago I saw a man who came into the Hotel
Dieu in the morning, having
An Ohio Doctor in the Early
Navy 167
received an injury which caused the
amputation of three of his fingers.
He was a healthy robust-looking man. In
a day or two he was seized with
shivering followed by fever and is now in a state of raging
delirium, tied
down in bed. What can be the cause of
these unfortunate symptoms from
simple amputations?
He would have given much to know the
answer, for it puzzled
him considerably. Yet he speculated-and
very soundly-on the
eventual solution of this mystery. The
original cause of many
diseases, he felt, was some foreign
matter carried in the blood
stream. "Even in acute diseases I
believe there is foreign matter
introduced into the blood
vessels," he wrote in his notes. Were not
fevers and coated tongues and cloudy
urine but the efforts of the
body to eliminate or set free this
contaminating substance?
As the days grew warmer, Wolfley wished
for nothing better
than to start for home. The news from
America which reached him
through the columns of the newspapers
distressed him exceedingly.
He shook his head sorrowfully as he
glanced through the papers,
which appeared to contain nothing but
accounts of "mobs, riots,
election murders-even lynchings!"
To his recollection he could
recall in his time no such lack of
respect for law and order, no
such want of political honesty, as was
registered in the columns of
the American press. The increase of
depravity had been frightfully
rapid within the few years he had been
abroad, it seemed to him.
Wolfley loved his country and its
institutions too deeply not
to be concerned by what was occuring
there; all these "horrible"
accounts of disorder made him want to
see for himself what had
happened in his absence.
Yet it was with a certain regret that
he said goodbye to Paris
when he left on July 11, 1836. He
arrived at London a week later.
On August 9 he sailed from Liverpool on
the packet Susquehanna,
Captain Cropper in command. Upon
landing in America, Wolfley
proceeded at once to Circleville.
Shortly after his return he received
notice from the navy depart-
ment to appear for examination before
the board of naval surgeons,
scheduled to convene in Washington on
the first of November. He
started east almost immediately.
However, the stage coach in which
he was riding had an accident, and
Wolfley pulled himself out of
168 Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
the wreckage to find his arm fractured
in two places. Despite the
pain, he continued to Washington and
took his examination. He
passed easily, ranking fourth in a list
of nine in line for promotion
to the position of full surgeon.31
On his return to Ohio he asked Eleanor
Ann Irvin to marry him,
and she accepted his proposal. On
Wolfley's thirtieth birthday,
February 14, 1837, they were married.32
It was a happy marriage;
throughout the remainder of his life
Wolfley spoke devotedly and
lovingly of "his Ellen."
During 1837 and 1838 Wolfley remained
on the list of surgeons
awaiting orders. In this period he
became the father of a young
son, named William Irvin after the
child's grandfather.
At the close of 1838 the Ohio State
Penitentiary desperately
needed a competent physician. The
number of deaths among the
inmates, twenty-five during the
preceding twelve months, had
aroused some criticism. The three
directors of the institution pointed
out in extenuation that often "a
disease assumes an epidemic
character in a crowded prison, or a
garrison of soldiers, when its
epidemic qualities is scarcely
perceived among the citizens of the
surrounding country."33
Two of the three directors of the
penitentiary were Samuel
McCracken of Lancaster and Joseph H.
Olds of Circleville, both
good friends of Wolfley.34 In
their dilemma they evidently turned
to him for help, beseeching him to
straighten out the medical
situation at the penitentiary. Since he
had had experience in fighting
epidemics on shipboard, he would know
how to cope with the prob-
lem of a large group confined in
limited quarters. Wolfley finally
accepted the proffered appointment.35
At the end of six months, when Wolfley
made out his report
before leaving, he could boast of a
decided improvement in con-
31 Niles' Weekly Register, December 24, 1836.
32 Lancaster Gazette, February 16, 1837.
33 Executive Documents, 38 Ohio General Assembly, No. 23, p. 5.
34 Samuel F. McCracken was president of
the Zanesville-Maysville road and a
successful dry-goods merchant in
Lancaster. Joseph H. Olds was a successful lawyer
and politician of Circleville. President
of the Circleville bank, he acquired a con-
siderable fortune in his lifetime. He
was frequently a member of the Ohio legis-
lature. Dr. E. B. Olds, who served his
apprenticeship under Dr. Luckey, was his
brother.
35 A
month after Wolfley assumed his new duties the stipend was boosted from
two hundred to five hundred dollars a
year. Laws of Ohio, XXXVII (1839), 30.
An Ohio Doctor in the Early
Navy 169
ditions at the penitentiary. In this
period only five deaths occurred.36
Nevertheless, much remained to be done,
and Wolfley doubtlessly
would have preferred to continue his
work for a while longer. His
efforts seemed to win the appreciation
of state officials, for when
a vacancy became open in the
directorate of the Ohio Lunatic
Asylum, completed but a year before,
Governor Wilson Shannon
appointed Wolfley to fill this post.37
He became a director of the lunatic
asylum in April. A month
later he received orders from the navy
department to report without
delay to the naval asylum in
Philadelphia, for duty in that establish-
ment.
After four months in Philadelphia,
Wolfley received orders to
report to the U. S. S. Enterprise. However,
his health was adjudged
too delicate to withstand the rigors of
a cruise, so he was detached
from the Enterprise as
physically unfit for sea duty. In December
1839 he returned to Lancaster to await
further orders. About this
time another son was born to him. The
child was named Lewis.
On October 12, 1840, Wolfley was
ordered to the U. S. S. Dale,
Charles Gauntt in command,38 scheduled
for duty with the Pacific
Fleet. Wolfley considered this the last
long cruise he would ever
take. A few months after the Dale sailed
out of Hampton Roads in
December 1840, he decided that never
again would he submit to
such a distant separation from his wife
and children. Necessity com-
pelled the present parting, he
explained in his journals, but he in-
tended to "return to stay-to part
no more."
This was Wolfley's first voyage where
he was in full command
of the medical department of a ship. In
his first quarterly report,
covering the period from November 19 to
December 31, 1840, he
informed the fleet surgeon, Thomas
Dillard,39 that he had treated
thirty-one cases, most of them minor
complaints. He grouped the
cases under three broad
classifications: fevers, inflammations, and
local affections. Catarrhal fever,
which included catarrh, influenza,
36 Executive Documents, 38 Ohio
General Assembly, No. 37, p. 44.
37 Certificate
of appointment, dated April 10, 1839. Wolfley Collection. The ap-
pointment was to last until the next
session of the legislature.
38 Charles Gauntt entered the navy in
1811 as a midshipman. He became a lieutenant
in 1817 and a commander in 1837. His
captaincy was not obtained until 1847. He died
at New Brunswick, New Jersey, on August
21, 1855.
39 Thomas Dillard was commissioned a
surgeon's mate in 1824. Four years later
he was promoted to full surgeon. He
retired in 1863 and died on March 1, 1870.
170
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
and bronchitis, occurred most often,
while pleurisy, rheumatism, and
contusions were next in frequency.40
Outside a rough passage around Cape
Horn, this cruise proved
uneventful. Wolfley found the South
American towns unlike any
he had ever seen. The crudeness of the
buildings particularly im-
pressed him. After moving up and down
the coast, the Dale settled
down for a long stay at Callao.
Wolfley, slipping into an easy and
not unpleasant routine of life,
neglected his journals. From April
through June he wrote very little. On
the Fourth of July, after the
ships of the squadron hoisted the
American ensign at the fore and
mizzen masts in celebration of the day,
he called himself to task
for not keeping up his diary.
"From this day, I will make daily
entries in my journal," he
resolved.
In November Wolfley's health began to
trouble him again. Each
evening he suffered a chill, followed
by a fever that did not leave
until about midnight. During the day he
felt indolent, and his mind,
he noticed, was dull.
On December 17, 1841, he received two
letters from home. One
was from his wife, informing him that
she had consumption and
might not live to see him. The second
letter, from his father-in-law,
notified Wolfley of his wife's death.
Added to his already weakened
physical condition, the blow proved too
much. After four days of
grief-burdened brooding, his health
gave way completely. Captain
Gauntt granted Wolfley permission to go
home.
Crossing the isthmus of Panama by
canoe, Wolfley took a packet
to Jamaica, landing there "more
dead than alive." Here, as he
glanced through some old newspaper
files, he first saw a notice of
his promotion to full surgeon, made on
July 29, 1841.41 He reached
Baltimore on April 1, 1842. He reported
at once to the secretary
of the navy, straightened out his
accounts, and left for Ohio.
It was a sadly different homecoming
from the one he had often
pictured in his mind on lonely evenings
while rounding Cape Horn.
His dream of retiring from his sea
career in favor of the less
adventurous but more substantial
delights of family life no longer
had a meaning. This dream lay buried
with his "sweet Ellen."
Wolfley left his two children under the
care of his mother-in-law
40 Copy of quarterly report, November 19 to December 31, 1840. Wolfley
Collection
41 Niles' Weekly Register, September 18, 1841.
An Ohio Doctor in the Early
Navy 171
when he reported at Norfolk the next
fall. He had no optimistic
expectations now, yet he was keenly
desirous of a commission. He
wanted to get back into harness again;
it would be easier to forget
the loss of his wife if he had work to
do.
After several temporary assignments he
was ordered to the
U. S. S. Decatur, Captain Joel
Abbot commanding.42 The Decatur
was scheduled to join the African
squadron later in the summer.
Wolfley reported for duty on May 25,
but not until the fifth of
August did the Decatur run out
past Old Point Comfort and head
for Africa.
Wolfley, whose health had never been
robust, realized the danger
he was incurring by signing up for this
cruise to the coast of Africa.
A year spent with the African squadron,
however, counted for two
years of service elsewhere, and he was
willing to run the risks of
the deadly climate along the Gold Coast
in order to shorten his
time away from home and his children.
Wolfley devoted more atten-
tion to his diary than he had at any
time since his first voyage. The
daily entries once again grew very long
and verbose, filled with re-
flections about himself and with
philosophical musings about life
and religion.
At the end of six weeks' sailing the Decatur
joined Commodore
Matthew Calbraith Perry, aboard the
frigate Macedonian, at the
Cape Verde Islands. Putting the ships
of the squadron in fighting
trim, Perry proceeded to Monrovia,
Liberia. Using this town as a
base, Perry cruised up and down the coast,
settling and adjusting
many disputes. At Half-Berriby, where
the ships had gathered on a
punitive expedition, there was fighting
between the Americans and
the natives. Wolfley had spent ten
years in the navy before seeing
his first engagement in warfare-and
that "not much of one," he
admitted.
Wolfley was surprised to find how many
of the Negro colonists
in Liberia were opposed to abolition.
"Dey be different circles in
siety ebery veres," he repeated
their argument in mimicking their
speech, "man hab de talent, he become gemman among
people."
42 Joel Abbot (1793-1855) joined the navy in 1812. During
the War of 1812
he was captured by the British. Later he
served under McDonough at the battle of
Lake Champlain. Appointed a commander in
1838, he was put in charge of the
Boston navy yard, where he uncovered a
series of stupendous frauds. In 1852 Perry
selected Abbot to accompany him on his
mission to Japan. He died in Hong Kong
in 1855.
172
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
The colonists pointed out to him that
they were held back in their
improvements by the kind of freed
slaves sent to them. The new-
comers were mostly field laborers,
whereas the colony needed
mechanics and tradesmen.
As for the native Africans, Wolfley
thought them on the whole
a well disposed people. Some of their
superstitions amused him,
however. One day while strolling
through a small village south
of Monrovia, he came across a bushy
tree, with bright yellow
blossoms. It was enclosed by a railing.
An inhabitant explained to
Wolfley that it was a
"gregorie"--a tree "whose virtues would pro-
tect them from harm." If one
plucked a flower from it, some
accident was certain to befall him.
Leaning over the rail, Wolfley,
perhaps a little arrogantly, picked a
few of the flowers to show the
natives that he was not superstitious,
no matter how much they
might believe in the efficacy of their
"gregorie."
In December 1843 the Decatur parted
from the squadron to make
a long cruise to the south. During this
trip down the Gold Coast,
Wolfley became very friendly with the
missionaries he met. Gradually
but steadily religion grew to be the
consuming interest of his life.
He began a systematic reading of the
Bible on this voyage, and the
missionaries opened their library of
sermons to him. Reading re-
ligious works became almost his sole
recreation; even his journal
was cast aside for awhile.
On the return trip northward the Decatur
put in at Cape Palmas,
on March 13, 1844. Here Wolfley busied
himself in saying goodbyes
to some missionary friends. On one of
these calls he met John
Millon Campbell, a young teacher who
had recently arrived from
the United States. To his delight he
discovered that Campbell came
from Cincinnati and was a graduate of
Miami University at Oxford,
Ohio.43 Wolfley knew
Chauncey Olds, a professor at this college,44
and the two men talked of Olds and
other mutual acquaintances.
43 The letters of John Millon Campbell
are in the possession of the Miami Uni-
versity Library, at Oxford.
Unfortunately, the last one mailed from Africa was
written before Campbell met Wolfley.
Campbell died of African fever on April 19,
1844. See Missionary Herald, XLI
(1845), 26-27.
44 Chauncey Olds (1816-1890) was
professor of Latin and Roman literature and
teacher of Hebrew, Miami University,
1837-40. Later he practiced law in Chillicothe,
Ohio. He was appointed attorney general
of Ohio in 1865. He was a trustee of
Miami University from 1850 until 1878.
An Ohio Doctor in the Early
Navy 173
Wolfley had spent few more enjoyable
moments since leaving
America.
From Cape Palmas the vessels sailed for
the Cape Verde Islands.
At this point Wolfley ceased writing in
his journals, except for an
occasional entry recording the
temperature. His health, which
had bothered him now and again on this
cruise, grew steadily worse.
The short stay in Port Praya did not
produce any improvement.
Setting sail again, on April 25, the Decatur
turned her prow north-
ward toward Madeira.45
The state of his health worried Wolfley
and began to affect his
mind. As far back as December he spoke
of "a little personal
monitor" who whispered to him of
those who were "dear and near"
to his heart.46 Apparently
Wolfley fell into the habit of holding
lengthy conversations with this
creature of his imagination. In a
startlingly matter-of-fact manner, he
wrote in a letter that "we [he
and the monitor] have talked this
matter over almost daily together
and many times at night."
Upon leaving Port Praya, his
"little monitor" gave him no peace.
Dressed in warm drawers and undershirt,
with blue cloth pants
and a thick blue cloth coat over them,
he sat by the hour at his
desk in his compartment, writing
letters to his friends.47 His pen
flew across the paper as his
reflections hastened from his unbalanced
mind to the page before him. So quickly
did his thoughts come, he
believed that he could "easily
keep two amanuenses busy."
Before his mind gave way completely,
Wolfley begged Abbot
for permission to go home when the ship
reached Madeira. Already
his arm had become slightly paralyzed,
he pointed out to the captain,
and by the nature of his disease there
was danger of his being struck
down on the deck in a helpless
condition.48 Abbot had no authority
to grant his request and told Wolfley
so. Two days later, on May 7,
1844, Wolfley was admitted to the sick
list as mentally deranged.
He soon sank into a state of delirium
from which he never recovered.
45 Senate Documents, 28 cong., 2 sess., No. 150, p. 140.
46 Wolfley to "his
cousins," Sinoe, Liberia, December 1, 1843. Wolfley Collection.
47 Fragment of a letter from Wolfley to
an unknown addressee, Decatur at sea,
April-May [?], 1844. Wolfley Collection.
48 Wolfley to "sister Susan," Decatur at sea, April-May
[?], 1844. Wolfley Col-
lection.
174 Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
When the Decatur reached Port
Praya on her return from Madeira,
Abbot decided to leave Wolfley in the
hands of the United States
Agent for the Cape Verde Islands.49
The captain had an inventory
made of Wolfley's private effects. Of
the items listed, clothes pre-
dominated. In addition to his several
uniforms, Wolfley owned ten
pairs of trousers and about two dozen
shirts. His books and papers
were made into a large bundle and put
down as one item. A shaving
pot (marked Sara), a shaving brush, a
clothes broom, a razor and
strap, and two tooth brushes were the
toilet articles listed.
Of jewelry, Wolfley owned a gold watch
with a silk guard, a gold
pencil case, a French toothpick, six
gold rings, three silver spoons,
and a dozen forks. The amount of cash
in his possession at the time
of his illness totaled thirty-nine
sovereigns, five twenty-franc pieces,
and one dollar and two cents.50
On June 13, 1844, Wolfley was moved
ashore and placed under
the care of the American consul.51
Near the town of Port Praya,
which rests upon a tableland high above
the harbor of St. Jago
Island, stands a fort, built to protect
the capital city of the Cape
Verde Islands.52 Wolfley was
lodged in the guardhouse of the fort,
and keepers were detailed to watch over
him.
Early in the morning of July 21, 1844,
he succeeded in escaping
from his prison and his guards,53 and
threw himself over a cliff to
the rocks, eighty feet below. He was
buried with full honors in
the fort at Port Praya. Many navy
friends joined with Captain Abbot
in regretting the death of this
"excellent and worthy surgeon."54
49 F. Gardner was the United States Agent in 1844.
50 Inventory of Surgeon L. Wolfley's Private Effects taken on board U.
S. Ship
Decatur on the 12th of June, 1844, at Port Praya, by order of
Commander Joel Abbot.
Wolfley Collection.
51 Navy department to the author, January 6, 1938.
52 United States Hydrographic
Office, East Atlantic Pilot, H. O. No. 134 (Wash-
ington, 1918), 331.
53 Navy department to the author,
January 6, 1938.
54 Senate Documents, 28 cong., 2 sess., No. 150, pp. 129, 146.