First Siege of Yellow Fever Checked in Philadelphia November 6, 1793

Philadelphia was visited twice by the dreaded pestilence of yellow fever, first in the year 1793 and again in 1798. The general consternation which incited many to flee from the destroyer “produced scenes of distress and misery,” wrote Matthew Carey, “of which parallels are rarely met with, and which nothing could palliate but the extraordinary public panic and the great law of self-preservation. Men of affluent fortunes, who gave daily employment and sustenance to hundreds, were abandoned to the care of a Negro after their wives, children, friends, clerks and servants had fled away and left them to their fate.

“In some cases, at the commencement of the disorder, no money could procure proper attendance. With the poor the case was, as might 776be expected, infinitely worse than the rich, and many of these perished without a human being to hand them a drink of water, to administer medicine or to perform any charitable office for them. Various instances occurred of dead bodies being found lying in the streets, of persons who had no house or habitation and could procure no shelter.”

The cessation of business, in consequence of the plague, threw hundreds of poor people out of employment. Want and famine made their appearance. While the fatal atmosphere of contagion overspread the devoted city the most frightful exaggerations of the real condition of things were spread throughout the country, the consequence of which very soon became serious.

In nearly all the cities and towns, near and far, with a few humane exceptions, all intercourse with Philadelphia was prohibited. This added to the general distress.

The deadly disease swept away whole families. Eleven persons died in one house within a day.

Philadelphia with 50,000 population in 1792 was then not only the largest and busiest city of the Nation but its seat of government. The Congress moved from the city to Germantown; President George Washington and the members of his Cabinet and their families departed the city, and every person who could afford it followed their example.

One out of every five who remained in Philadelphia died. Churches and schools, as well as the stores and mills closed their doors. Half the houses stood empty. Those who ventured to walk abroad held over their nostrils handkerchiefs soaked in vinegar and avoided shaking hands with any one.

Grass grew high in the main streets. Carts passed the main thoroughfares to carry the bodies of those who had perished. The drivers called out at intervals, “Bring out your dead!”

The disease itself was horrible and filthy. The sick were gathered into hospitals, but these, unlike the great hospitals of today, added to their misery. They were mere barns where patients lay crowded together, without proper care. Nurses could not be obtained even at high wages, for to nurse the victims of yellow fever meant almost certain death.

Mayor Mathew Clarkson asked for volunteers to form a Committee of Safety which should do whatever seemed possible for the health of the city. Only twelve men in that greatest of American cities answered the call, so serious was the situation.

One of these volunteers was none other than the greatest man of his day, Captain Stephen Girard. Only two of these twelve volunteered to serve at the hospital, and these heroes were Stephen Girard and Peter Helm. Both possessed great wealth and might have fled the city to live in safety and comfort far from the scene of this horrible 777pestilence, but they nobly chose to help their fellow men and risk their own lives.

Of these two men Girard took the post of greatest danger, the interior of the hospital. There for two months he spent a large part of each day, nursing his patients. No money could pay for such services and Girard would have accepted no return. Moreover, he went with his own carriage to the houses where the sick lay, entered them, and drove with them to the hospital.

At last the benevolence of the inhabitants elsewhere came to their relief, and contributions in money and provisions were poured out with a liberal hand, which relieved the physical distress. But it took the return of cold weather to check the fever and on November 6 the citizens who had fled at the beginning of the plague began to return, and from that day conditions rapidly improved.

In the plague of 1793 the mortality was 3293, as reported by the “Minutes of the Committee.”

In this scourge there were on Market Street and north thereof 1178 houses shut up and 1066 open, and 1152 deaths. Of the white inhabitants 4627 fled, 7332 remained in the city, and of the colored inhabitants 64 fled out of the city and 474 remained.

South of Market Street 1009 houses were closed and 969 remained open and occupied, 1068 died, 4289 fled and 6133 remained, and 174 Negroes fled and 833 remained to face the plague.

In the Northern Liberties 302 houses were closed and 822 remained occupied; 546 died, 1751 fled and 4943 remained; 28 Negroes ran away and 205 remained.

In the district of Southwark 239 houses were empty and 742 occupied; 527 died, 1239 whites fled and 4521 remained, and 24 Negroes fled and 234 remained.

Thus in the city 2728 houses were closed on account of the occupants fleeing the city or dying and 3599 remained occupied. More than 12,000 inhabitants fled the city, while 25,000 remained and came into close contact with the fever victims.

The figures given here were taken during the month of November, when the cooler weather was beginning to check the ravages of the plague. According to the statisticians of that day, the average of those who fell victims to the fever amounted to more than six and one-third persons to the house.

Among those attacked were Governor Thomas Mifflin and Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury in President Washington’s Cabinet.

Both recovered and on November 14 the Governor issued a proclamation stating the pestilence had ceased and fixing a day of thanksgiving, fasting and prayer. The disease was considered to be conquered about November 6, and from that time confidence returned.

778When the city was again desolated by yellow fever in 1798 the deaths reached an enormous rate and much greater than in 1793.

In the month of August, 1798, the deaths in Philadelphia were 621 and in August, 1793, 264; in twelve days in September, 1798, 720 died, and during the same days in 1793 there were 290 deaths reported. From August 8 to October 3, 1798, there were 2778 deaths, and in this same period in 1793 there were 1847 deaths, so it is safe to predict that about twice as many deaths occurred in the second plague as in the first.