268
OHIO ARCHEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
with difficulty that we refrain from
being surprised at ourselves. And our
culture dwarfs that of our fathers to
insignificance. We cannot be expected
to judge values according to the
standards of a culture which, to us, ap-
pears so naive, so childlike, so
unintelligent and emotionally unstable. But
sometimes, when our present world is a
bit too much with me, the strident
voice of the news broadcaster comes to
me from long ago and far away,
and I hear, from underneath the trees of
a firelit camp-ground, the voice
of a Son of Thunder. He is speaking to
me, and what he says makes me
ponder.
"Open the Pit of Hell, O Lord, and
show these snivelling
sinners Thy torments! Show them their
brothers and their sisters,
their mothers and their fathers,
gnashing their teeth and gnawing at
their chains. Make them believe, O Lord!
Knock them down!
Knock them down, and show them Thy wrath
to come!"
AN OHIO SURGEON IN PARIS, 1835-1836
By PHILIP D. JORDAN
In December, 1835, a
twenty-eight-year-old American naval surgeon
took rooms on a narrow Parisian street
near the great French clinics and
hospitals which then were the world's
leading teaching institutions for young
physicians.1
Dr. Louis A. Wolfley, assistant surgeon
on the U. S. S. Delaware,
had obtained leave2 to devote eight
months to furthering his medical educa-
tion begun in Cincinnati in November,
1829, at the Ohio Medical College.3
Born in Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania on
February 19, 1807, Wolfley had
come to Circleville, Ohio, in 1829 with
his brother-in-law, Dr. William N.
Luckey. In Circleville, Wolfley helped
Luckey mix drugs and roll pills.
Such apprenticeship had been his only
preparation for further schooling in
Cincinnati. There, during the winter and
spring terms of 1829, this tall
young man listened attentively to the
brilliant anatomy lectures of Jedediah
Cobb, and there also, he received his
first formal introduction to nineteenth
century chemistry, pharmacy, materia
medica, surgery, and the theory and
practice of medicine.
After his graduation in June, 1830,
Wolfley did not return to Athens
where he had previously practiced by
rule of thumb, but he opened an office
in Lancaster, Ohio, a community of
fifteen hundred persons.4 There
he
successfully courted Eleanor Ann Irvin,
daughter of Judge William W.
Irvin, member of Congress. Wolfley also
became acquainted with Senator
1 This paper, dealing especially with
the Parisian phase of Dr. Wolfley's career,
is an abridgment of a more extended
article prepared by the author and by Howard
D. Kramer, of the State University of Iowa.
2 Mediterranean Cruise, October 9, 1834,
Wolfley MSS.; Woodbury to Patterson,
Washington, March 24, 1835, Wolfley MSS.
3 Registrar's office of College of
Medicine, University of Cincinnati.
4 See Wolfley's advertisements in
Lancaster Gazette, April 5-19, 1830.
OHIO HISTORY CONFERENCE:
PROCEEDINGS 269
Thomas Ewing. Life and medical practice
in Lancaster, even in the com-
pany of such distinguished politicians,
palled upon the young physician.
"While I am content at
Lancaster," he noted in his carefully kept and
introspective diary, "I still think
of Paris. I am young, I believe I could
become a citizen of the world."5
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."6
With the political aid of Irvin and
Ewing, Wolfley received a com-
mission as an assistant naval surgeon on
June 22, 1832,7 and soon after was
ordered to duty on the sloop St.
Louis. Resigning his office as secretary of
the Thirteenth District of the Medical
Society of Ohio, Wolfley went to
Norfolk where the St. Louis was
at anchor. Later he was transferred to
the Mediterranean squadron, serving as
one of the four medical officers
aboard the U. S. S. Delaware.
But life at sea turned out to be no more
pleasant than life in Lan-
caster. "Nothing daunts a
sailor," sang Wolfley exultantly on starting his
cruise, but when he said this he had not
taken into account seasickness.
"My suffering with this salt water
malady almost induces me at times to
forswear . . . all salt water life, and
to return to terra firma."8
Graduate study in Paris seemed an ideal
solution. He could leave the
sea for a time and also he could avail
himself of the splendid clinical fa-
cilities in Paris. He had trouble
finding suitable lodgings which would fit
his meager budget of fifty-four dollars
a month, the amount of his pay
while on furlough. In his first quarters
at No. 7 Rue de Tournon, situated
but a few steps from the entrance to the
Luxembourg Gardens, he paid
fifty-five francs monthly for his rooms
and 115 francs for his board. Fire-
wood and candles were extra. A month
later he succeeded in locating
cheaper lodgings, at forty francs, where
he stayed most of the time he was
in Paris. This new address was at No. 18
on the Rue de l'Ancienne
Comedie, a narrow, cobblestoned street
lined with gabled houses whose cen-
tury-old balconies jutted out over the
thoroughfare. On the ground level
dust-covered shops hid their soiled
faces behind veils of iron grilling which
provided protection against the violence
of street riots. Across from Wolf-
ley's rooms was the Cafe Procope where
he often ate his breakfast, probably
thrilled by the thought that Voltaire
and Rousseau and Diderot and other
5 Wolfley to Leon Longuemare, Lancaster,
March 26, 1830.
6 West Indies Cruise, December 31, 1832,
Wolfley MSS.
7 For copy of original commission, see Wolfley MSS.
8 Undated note, in Wolfley MSS.
270 OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
beaux esprits of the previous century who had used this famous cafe
as a
gathering place might have talked to
each other across the same table.9
Paris had been driven indoors by an
unusually severe winter when
Wolfley arrived, so it was not until
later that he made any attempt to see
the sights of the city. However, before
settling down to work he called
on a Monsieur Cutter, a tailor, to be
measured for clothes; evidently he had
discovered his mufti inadequate in style
and cloth for Paris wear. The
stylish young Parisian felt out of place
unless he sported a form-fitting
coat, sometimes laced across the front,
which descended nearly to his knees
where it flaired decidedly. His trousers had to be tailored from striped
or large-checked material and almost
skin tight until they belled at the
ankles.10 It was only natural for Wolfley to reconstruct his wardrobe ac-
cording to the dictates of this fashion.
He applied himself industriously to his
studies, oftimes attending as
many as four lectures a day and seldom
less than one. Most of the hos-
pitals and schools where the doctors
lectured to students were grouped
within a narrow compass on the left bank
of the Seine. The Hotel Dieu,
opposite the Cathedral of Notre Dame,
was one of the oldest, largest, and
most famous hospitals in the world. Here
Wolfley followed Roux,11 the
famous surgeon, as he made his rounds of
the wards, intently observing his
technique as he performed bedside
operations. The Hotel Dieu in 1836 was
probably the best kept and best managed
hospital in Europe. It was neat
and well-ventilated, and the provisions
supplied to the sick were plentiful
and wholesome. As many as twenty-seven
hundred patients could be ac-
commodated in its thirty spacious wards,
and its equipment since the cholera
epidemic of 1832 was, due to the many
voluntary contributions made at that
time, more than adequate, judged by the
standards of this day.
Leaving the Hotel Dieu, Wolfley could,
by crossing the Petite Pont
and proceeding ahead a hundred yards or
so, reach the Boulevard St.
Germain upon which the Ecole de Medecine
faced. Many mornings as early
as six-thirty he made his way to the
classrooms in this building to hear
Gabriel Andral12 talk on skin diseases
and rheumatism, and to listen to
Auguste Berard13 deliver his
brilliant lectures ridiculing phrenology, where,
on one occasion, he used the recently
guillotined head of a murderer to illus-
trate his remarks. Afterwards a two-minute walk down the
boulevard
brought Wolfley to the Hopital de la
Charite, where he more and more
9 Georges Cain, A Travers Paris (Paris,
1909), 141.
10 Frances Trollope, Paris and the
Parisians in 1835 (New York, 1836), passim.
11 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.
12 Gabriel Andral (1797-1876) held the
chair of hygiene until 1830, then replaced
the famous physician, Francois Joseph
Victor Broussais, in the chair of internal
pathology.
13 Auguste Berard (1802-1846) became
professor of anatomy about 1831. His
brother, Pierre-Honore, was professor of
physiology.
OHIO HISTORY CONFERENCE:
PROCEEDINGS 271
frequently called to see Velpeau14
operate and noted down his comments on
cases. These places, as well as the
Hopital Necker, Hopital de la Pitie,
and Hopital de la Faculte, were in easy
walking distance of his quarters on
the Rue de l'Ancienne Comedie.
Wolfley soon settled into a daily
routine which varied little. Awake
and through breakfast at Procope's by
seven, or even earlier, he usually
went first to the Hopital de la
Charite. Sometimes he remained here
throughout the day, but more often he
left at the end of the morning and
employed the hours from noon to three
sitting in on lectures at the Ecole de
Medecine or visiting other hospitals. In
the evening he usually accompanied
Gilliss or other American friends to the
restaurant at the Palais Royal for
dinner. For forty sous, the menu
lavishly listed innumerable dishes from
which to choose four, which undoubtedly
was for Wolfley an attractive
feature. Apparently he considered the food--although served in grim-
looking silver bowls--extremely good,
for he ate here often.15 After the meal
Wolfley customarily returned to his
rooms to read or study. On rare oc-
casions he saw an opera or attended a
party which lasted into the small
hours of the morning. On days following
these infrequent dissipations, he
seldom called at the hospitals, but
remained at home and rested.
The continental system of medical
training undoubtedly proved more
valuable and advantageous to Wolfley, an
earnest student, than the more
formal method of prescribed courses
given at the Ohio Medical College.
The practice of paying fees for only
those lessons and lectures attended
enabled Wolfley to stretch his limited
resources in the most effective way,
for he was free to select those courses
alone which would do him the most
good. He kept a detailed account of his
expenses while in Paris, and the
sum he paid for medical fees was
carefully recorded.16 To Armand Velpeau,
the surgeon at the Hopital de la
Charite, 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 Paris he studied under some of the
world's outstanding doctors.
To his vexation, however, he found that
Surgeon Philibert Roux at the
Hotel Dieu was a chronic mumbler, so
much so that Wolfley, his ear as yet
not perfectly tuned to French, had
trouble following his discourse. He
liked Velpeau better, who, in a
distinct, well-enunciated tone, took care to
inform his listeners of the reasons for
every motion in his operations.
14 Alfred-Armand-Louis-Marie Velpeau
(1795-1867), "not a scientific thinker, but
a strong, capable, hard-working teacher
and operator." Surgeon to Hopital
St.
Antoine, 1828-30; at La Pitie, 1830-34;
at La Charite, 1834-67, and for the same time
professor of clinical surgery at the
Paris Faculty. Author of Treatise on Surgical
Anatomy (1823), and Diseases of the Breast (1854).
15 Trollope, Paris and the Parisians,
194.
16 Expense
account while in Paris, Wolfley MSS.
272 OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND
HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
In the clinics Wolfley saw countless
surgical operations, the majority
confined to amputations, fistulas,
cataracts, dropsy, and hernia.17 He learned
from Velpeau himself how to apply the
famous bandage for fracture of the
clavicle which that surgeon invented.
The hand of the injured arm was
placed on the opposite shoulder, with
the elbow brought across the front
of the body, tight bandages maintaining it
in this position. Wolfley also
witnessed a great number of amputations
performed by Roux at the Hotel
Dieu. After sawing through the bone and
severing the limb, adhesive tape
was applied over the face of the stump.
Infection, as a result, was ex-
tremely common, for in that day
antiseptic was unknown.
Because of the many deaths which
followed amputations, Wolfley
criticized both Roux and Velpeau for
operating so frequently. Another
thing which astonished him was the
opinion expressed by both men that an
amputation of a finger was as dangerous
as severing a limb near the trunk
of the body. Wolfley's experience
apparently had been just the reverse.
Velpeau in addition held the view that
amputations were less likely to be
fatal to the sickly than to the strong
and healthy. "In the former," this
physician told Wolfley, "the
removal of a limb acts like the lopping off [of]
super-numerary 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 noticed
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, but post mortems showed abscesses
on the cerebellum and liver.
Also, an extensive suppuration often
appeared in and around the arm joints.
Velpeau, attributed death "to the fluids
of the body, to absorption of pus, or
to some unknown cause." Wolfley
inclined toward the unknown cause as
the responsible reason, saying:
"There is something very strange in
this, to me something unac-
countable. 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
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 sym-
toms 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
17 Much of the following is taken from
the medical notes and clinical ob-
servations, in Wolfley MSS.
OHIO HISTORY CONFERENCE:
PROCEEDINGS 273
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 be-
lieve there is foreign matter introduced
into the blood vessels," he wrote in
his notes. Were not fevers and coated
tongues and cloudy urine but efforts
of the body to eliminate or set free
this contaminating substance?
Six weeks passed after his arrival in
Paris before Wolfley signed up
for any formal course of
instruction. Then he took up the study
of
stethoscope technique under Adan
Raciborski,18 and a little later operative
surgery under Cesar Robert.19 His
career as a naval surgeon doubtlessly
influenced this choice. Tuberculosis and
other pulmonary diseases were
chronic ailments of the seaman in the
navy,20 and a surgeon who availed
himself of a furlough to advance his
professional knowledge was expected
by the navy department to take a course
in surgery.
Wolfley devoted little time to anything
outside his work. Even his
sight-seeing verged on the
"postman's holiday," for his walks usually ended
at the Cluny Museum, where he examined
Guillaume Dupuytren's medical
collection, or at the cemetery of Pere
Lachaise or the Morgue. This last
place, located behind Notre Dame on the
south tip of the Ile de la Cite, was
a low white-colored building where each
day were displayed for public view
the bodies of suicides or murder victims
caught in the net stretched across
the Seine at St. Cloud for that very
purpose. As many as eight or ten
during a day's time were hauled out of
the muddy water.21 Wolfley on
entering the Morgue walked down the bare
straight corridor until he came
to a lighted window on a side wall
behind which the bodies lay on display
as if they were merchandise in a shop
window. The corpses were tilted at
an angle on their biers so that the
onlooker could see all the features. Due
to a bronze coloration spread over the
skin, many of them often appeared
as if still alive.22 Wolfley
may have stood here for long periods, watching
the parade of anxious faces which came
hesitantly to the large window in
search of a missing friend or child or
lover.
Wolfley seemed to find the Chamber of
Deputies far less interesting
than the Morgue; certainly he observed
little more signs of life there than
at the Morgue on the occasions he
attended the debates. However, he fol-
lowed the political developments in
France closely, for the dispute between
this nation and his own over payments
owed the United States was coming
to a head. The French were preparing for
a naval war, he wrote home,
a struggle which they evidently expected
to make "short and glorious" by
18 Adan Raciborski (1809-1871) was a
Polish surgeon who fled to Paris for
refuge when the revolution of 1830 was
put down by Russian troops. In 1834, he
was named chief of the clinic of the
Hopital de la Charite. He wrote a treatise on
respiratory diseases in 1841, but mainly
he specialized in gynecology.
19 Cesar Alphonse Robert (1801-1862), gave his name to a flattened pelvic
con-
dition upon which he made many reports. Unable for many
years to obtain a pro-
fessorship, despite his recognized ability, he earned
his living by private tutoring.
20 "The Founders of Naval
Hygiene," United States Naval Medical Bulletin,
XIV (1920), 619.
21 Trollope, Paris and the Parisians,
194.
22 Ibid., 195.
274 OHIO ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL QUARTERLY
striking "a death blow to our small
force."23 He blamed the late Minister
to France, Edward Livingston, who had
crossed on the Delaware with him
and whom he had doctored for a cold on
that trip, for the critical situation
of the differences with France. His
language had not been very diplomatic
in handling these people, "always
sensitive on the score of honor."
The news from America which reached Wolfley
through the columns
of the newspapers distressed him even
more than the strained relations
between France and the United States. He
shook his head sorrowfully as
he glanced through the papers which
appeared to contain nothing but ac-
counts "of mobs, riots, election
murders . . . even lynchings!" What sad
changes must have taken place since he
left home. This preyed heavily on
his mind, and doubtlessly as he sat
sipping his coffee at a sidewalk table in
the spring his reflections frequently
spanned the Atlantic. To his recol-
lection, he could recall in his time no
such lack of respect for law and
order, no such want of political
honesty, as was registered daily in the
American papers which fell into his
hands. 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
vitally concerned by what was occurring
there; all these "horrible" ac-
counts of disorder made him want to see
for himself what had happened
in his absence.
By this time, also, he wished for
nothing better than to reach home.
His work was nearly finished. As spring
advanced and the date for his
departure approached, he became more and
more pleased. Yet it was
with a certain regret that he said
good-by to Paris, this city where he had
worked so hard, learned so much and
whose hospitality he had so enjoyed.
He left Paris on July 11, arriving at
London a week later. In the
short period he was here he did and saw
almost as much as during the pre-
ceding months in France. He lodged at
101 Regent Street. Some of his
Paris friends were in London;
consequently he lacked no companionship for
his strolls about the city or his excursions
into the surrounding countryside.
In early August he traveled to
Liverpool, where he engaged a cabin
on the packet Susquehanna, Captain
Cropper in command. Sailing on
August 9, he arrived home in September.
As the boat came into harbor,
he undoubtedly had never experienced a
more contented feeling than this
one of being home again.
Wolfley, upon his return to active duty,
found much use for the
surgical knowledge learned in Paris. He
did a tour of duty at the Naval
Asylum in Philadelphia in 1839, and the
following year was ordered to sea
on the U. S. S. Dale of the
Pacific Squadron. In March, 1843, he was rank-
ing surgeon of the U. S. S. Decatur and
sailed to join the Africian Squad-
ron. By this time, he was ill both
physically and mentally. Before his
23 Wolfley to unknown addressee, written
a month after his arrival in Paris,
Wolfley MSS.
OHIO HISTORY CONFERENCE:
PROCEEDINGS 275
mind gave way completely, Wolfley begged
his superiors to grant him leave
and return him to Ohio. Two days later,
on May 7, 1844, the surgeon was
admitted to the sick list as mentally
deranged.24 When the Decatur put in
at Porto Praya, Wolfley's commander
determined to leave him in the hands
of the United States Agent for the Cape
Verde Islands.
The town of Porto Praya rests on a
table-land, high above the harbor
of St. Jago Island. At the eastern and
western limits of the village, the
ground falls off sharply into deep
ravines. Near the town, and looking down
upon the ocean, stands a fort.25
Wolfley was lodged in the guard-house of
this fort, and keepers were
detailed to watch over him. Early on the
morning of July 21, 1844, he
succeeded in escaping from his prison
and his guards.26 After making his
escape, Wolfley rushed to the edge of a
cliff near the guard-house and hurled
his body into space. His life was
crushed out on the rocks, eighty feet
below.
He was buried with full honors in the
fort at Porto Praya.27 Many
friends of his in the navy joined with
Captain Abbot in regretting the death
of this "excellent and worthy
surgeon."28
Public Session of the Committee on
Archives and Medical
History, 1:00 P. M., April 5, Ohio
State Museum Library,
Jonathan Forman, M. D., Presiding
The second annual meeting of the
Committee on Archives and
Medical History of the Ohio State
Archaeological and Historical
Society was called to order by Dr.
Jonathan Forman, its chairman,
at 1:00 P. M. on April 5, 1940, in the Library
of the Museum. The
program was concerned with "Ohio
Medical History of the Period,
1835-1858," and was made up of
eight papers which will be pub-
lished in full in the October, 1940, issue of the
QUARTERLY.
General Session, 10:00 A. M., April
6, Ohio State Museum
Frank A. Livingston, Presiding
The final session of the Ohio History
Conference was the
Saturday morning one sponsored by the
Columbus Genealogical
Society and the Ohio State
Archaeological and Historical Society.
24 U. S. Navy Department to Howard D.
Kramer, January 6, 1938.
25 U. S. Hydrographic Office, East
Atlantic Pilot, H. O., no. 134 (Washington,
1918), 331.
26 U. S. Navy Department to Howard D.
Kramer, January 6, 1938.
27 U. S. Senate, Documents, 28 Cong., 2 Sess.,
1844-1845, IX Doc. 150, p. 129.
28 Ibid., 146.