Doctor Caldwell was born, the youngest son of a large family, May 14, 1772, in Caswell County, North Carolina, and died in Louisville July 9, 1853, in his eighty-third year. His parents had emigrated from Ireland. His father—who was described by Doctor James Blythe, who knew him, as "very poor, and very, very pious"—destined Charles for the Presbyterian ministry. Accordingly he was measurably released from the labor of the farm on which the family lived and was allowed to pursue his studies in a solitary log hut which he had built for himself for the purpose—"his books his chief companions."
He says he commenced to learn the ancient languages at twelve, and was already principal of a literary academy at eighteen. He says further of himself: "From an early period of my life I was actuated by a form of ambition and a love of disquisition and mental contest, which not only marked in me somewhat of a peculiarity of native mind and spirit, but tended also to strengthen them." In his subsequent life he delighted in debates, discussions, and mental contests. He acknowledges (Page 53) an early propensity to array himself in argument "on the wrong side of the question under consideration, in order the more certainly to produce discussion by my advocacy of a paradox, and to make a show of my ingenuity and ability in defense of error."
But, as he acknowledged, "this kind of gladiatorship began to blunt his appreciation of truth as distinguished from error, and hence he endeavored to restrain this impulse"—not always successfully, perhaps.
Although his taste and talents inclined him to the legal profession he was induced to study medicine, somewhat against his own judgment. His medical education was obtained in Philadelphia, in the Medical Department of the University of Pennsylvania, then the only medical college in America, which he entered in 1792, and from which he graduated. While there he industriously employed his time and faculties in study, debate, and discussion, and his pen in numerous publications, the principal of which was a translation of Blumenbach's Elements of Physiology—which he completed before graduation. He managed to antagonize, amongst many others, his medical preceptor, the celebrated Doctor Rush, much to his own detriment, as he in his autobiography acknowledges.
In the following year, 1793, on the outbreak of the yellow fever in Philadelphia, he distinguished himself by his courage and self-sacrifice in voluntarily attending and nursing the sick. And again, by his pen and otherwise, in theoretical discussions on the origin of the pestilence.
According to his own representations and the testimony of his friends, he was exceedingly methodical in his habits, dividing his time with rigorous system; but we may well feel a little skeptical as to his assertion that he "rarely slept more than four hours," and at one time but three hours and a half. His mental activity and labor, however, in his youth, must have been very great. Apart from his necessary studies and his active and constant participation in the discussions of the Medical Society, he delivered more public addresses, for the Society and on other occasions, "than all the other members of the institution united" (Page 254), besides employing his pen in numerous ephemeral productions for the press.
In speaking of his early life in Philadelphia (Page 330) he says: "I was a young man for the scenes in which I had acted; proud and ambitious certainly, and probably not altogether untinctured with vanity.... In truth it is hardly to be denied that, for a time at least, I was somewhat spoiled [by the compliments paid him] on account of my attributes and performances, both mental and corporal.... No wonder, therefore, that I felt, or conceited I felt, a decided superiority to most medical pupils, as well as the ordinary cast of young physicians.... I certainly did both indulge and manifest it to the extent, at times, of giving serious offense." This was not the worst. His bold self-confidence and assertion having placed him in a position of antagonism toward his friend and preceptor, Doctor Rush, as well as toward other influential medical men of Philadelphia, defeated the great ambition of his life—that of occupying the chair of the Institutes of Medicine in the Medical College of the University of Pennsylvania.
When informed by Doctor Rush (Page 290, autobiography) that although his friends spoke in flattering terms of "your talents, attainments, and powers in lecturing and instruction ... they are reluctant to recommend you to the Board of Trustees in the light of a professor," he indignantly declared that "if the door of the University of Pennsylvania was thus closed to him he would soon occupy a chair equally honorable with that of Doctor Rush in some other school." And he shortly thereafter was induced to push his fortunes in the great and growing West.
Coming to Lexington with his shining and commanding talents, his determination to conquer success, and the brilliant reputation he then had as an independent writer and lecturer; to become associated with the yet more brilliant President Holley, and the already well-known and appreciated medical teachers, Doctors Dudley and Brown; at an auspicious time when the rapidly improving country felt the want of medical instruction at home—the rapid success of the Medical Department of Transylvania (to which he materially contributed by his able efforts before the public) might well excuse him in his belief[41] that he had come to Lexington to be the "premier of the school,"[42] that he had come to train and induct his colleagues ("a most miserable Faculty," he calls them) into efficiency and fame, and that the success of medical education in Lexington was due mainly to his individual efforts. Candor obliges us to admit, however, that there is some truth in the statement of the late Professor Yandell, in the memoir above quoted. Doctor Yandell was a student in the Medical Department of Transylvania in 1823, and a most ardent admirer of the brilliant talents of Professor Caldwell, yet he found that both Professors Dudley and Drake were more popular with the students, as teachers, than he. He says (Page 56): "Students, in truth, generally turned listlessly away from his polished discourses on Sympathy, Phrenology,[43] the Vital Principle, and other kindred themes, and hurried off to the lectures on Materia Medica and Anatomy."[44]
In short, Doctor Caldwell excelled in the brilliant discussion of speculative and theoretical subjects. The extent of his positive knowledge, as remarked by Doctor Yandell, was greater in superficial area than in depth; whilst in the terse and lucid exposition of definite facts, which characterized the instruction of Professor Dudley, the student felt he was acquiring knowledge which not only was real but was of practical utility.