Yellow Fever Epidemic of 1793

Yellow Fever Epidemic of 1793 was the most devastating public health disaster in Philadelphia's history, killing approximately 5,000 people—nearly 10% of the city's population—between August and November 1793. The epidemic struck while Philadelphia was serving as the national capital, forcing President George Washington, Congress, and most of the city's residents to flee. Those who remained faced a terrifying disease that killed its victims within days, turning the skin yellow, causing hemorrhaging from every orifice, and filling the streets with corpses. The crisis revealed both the limits of contemporary medical knowledge and the capacity of ordinary citizens for extraordinary courage. The Free African Society, led by Richard Allen and Absalom Jones, provided nursing care and burial services under the mistaken belief (shared by doctors) that Black Philadelphians were immune to the disease—a belief that proved tragically false. The epidemic prompted the first major public health responses in American history and reshaped Philadelphia's urban development for decades to come.

Origins and Spread

The epidemic began in late July 1793 when refugees from the slave revolt in Saint-Domingue (Haiti) arrived in Philadelphia, bringing with them the Aedes aegypti mosquito that carries yellow fever—though this connection was not understood at the time. The disease appeared first in the waterfront district near Water Street and spread rapidly through the city during the hot, humid summer months. Dr. Benjamin Rush, the most prominent physician in Philadelphia, recognized the disease in mid-August and sounded the alarm, but by then the epidemic was already out of control. Within weeks, the normal rhythms of city life had collapsed as shops closed, businesses shuttered, and families fled to the countryside.

The disease struck with terrifying swiftness. Victims developed fever, headache, and muscle pain, followed by jaundice (the yellowing of skin that gave the disease its name), hemorrhaging, and often death within days. Physicians debated whether the disease was contagious or arose from local environmental conditions—"miasmas" or bad air from rotting matter in the streets and wharves. Dr. Rush advocated aggressive treatment including bloodletting and purging, while other physicians recommended gentler approaches. Neither proved effective; modern estimates suggest the case fatality rate exceeded 50% for those who developed full-blown symptoms. The terror of the disease was compounded by its unpredictability: some families were entirely destroyed while neighbors escaped untouched.

Flight and Response

By early September, those who could afford to leave Philadelphia had fled—an estimated 20,000 people, roughly 40% of the population. President Washington departed for Mount Vernon on September 10; Congress had already adjourned for its usual summer recess and would not return until December. Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson, Secretary of the Treasury Alexander Hamilton (who contracted but survived the disease), and other federal officials scattered to their homes. Mayor Matthew Clarkson remained to coordinate the response, establishing a committee of citizens to organize relief efforts when the normal machinery of government proved inadequate to the crisis.

The Committee to Attend to and Alleviate the Sufferings of the Afflicted with the Malignant Fever, appointed by the Mayor on September 14, took charge of the city's response. Led by merchant Stephen Girard and cooper Israel Israel, the committee established Bush Hill as a hospital for fever victims, organized the collection and burial of the dead, and distributed food and supplies to the poor. Girard himself supervised Bush Hill, transforming it from a place of death into a functioning hospital where some patients actually recovered. His personal courage and administrative ability made him a hero of the epidemic, and his later philanthropy—including the founding of Girard College—would cement his reputation as Philadelphia's greatest benefactor.

The Free African Society

One of the most significant—and tragic—responses to the epidemic came from the Free African Society, a mutual aid organization founded in 1787 by Richard Allen and Absalom Jones. When Dr. Benjamin Rush publicly appealed for Black Philadelphians to assist in caring for the sick, based on his incorrect belief that people of African descent were immune to yellow fever, Allen and Jones mobilized their community to help. Members of the Free African Society served as nurses, gravediggers, and caretakers for abandoned families, often at great personal risk. They continued this work throughout the epidemic despite mounting evidence that Black Philadelphians were as susceptible to the disease as anyone else.

The Black community's service during the epidemic was met not with gratitude but with slander. Publisher Matthew Carey, in his widely circulated account of the epidemic, accused Black nurses and carters of profiteering and neglecting their duties—charges that were largely baseless. Allen and Jones published their own response, "A Narrative of the Proceedings of the Black People, During the Late Awful Calamity in Philadelphia," defending their community's conduct and documenting the sacrifices made. The document stands as an important early example of Black public advocacy and provides invaluable testimony about the epidemic from participants who risked their lives in service. The controversy foreshadowed ongoing tensions about race and citizenship in the early republic.

End of the Epidemic

The epidemic waned with the arrival of frost in October and November 1793. The Aedes aegypti mosquito cannot survive cold temperatures, though this connection would not be understood for another century—Walter Reed's commission did not prove the mosquito transmission theory until 1900. By mid-November, Philadelphians who had fled began returning to a city transformed by catastrophe. An estimated 5,000 people had died, including many of the city's most prominent physicians (some of whom died from exhaustion as much as disease). Families had been destroyed, businesses ruined, and the fabric of community life torn apart. The emotional trauma persisted long after the physical symptoms had passed.

The epidemic prompted lasting changes in Philadelphia's public health infrastructure. The city established permanent health offices and quarantine facilities, including the Lazaretto quarantine station at the mouth of the Delaware River. Street cleaning and garbage removal were improved, water supplies were gradually upgraded, and regulations governing burials and handling of the dead were strengthened. Though the miasma theory of disease that drove many of these reforms was incorrect, the practical measures proved beneficial in reducing other diseases spread by contaminated water and unsanitary conditions. Yellow fever would return to Philadelphia in subsequent years—notably in 1797, 1798, and 1799—but never with the devastating force of 1793.

Legacy

The Yellow Fever Epidemic of 1793 left deep marks on Philadelphia and American society. It demonstrated the vulnerability of cities to epidemic disease and the limitations of contemporary medicine. It revealed both the worst and best of human nature: the panic and flight of some, the extraordinary courage and sacrifice of others. The roles played by Stephen Girard, the Free African Society, and ordinary citizens who remained to help shaped narratives of civic duty that persisted for generations. The epidemic also contributed to a broader reconsideration of Philadelphia's role as the national capital—though the decision to move the government to Washington, D.C., had already been made, the recurring threat of fever reinforced arguments for leaving Philadelphia behind.

See Also

• Philadelphia as National Capital
• Mother Bethel and the AME Church
• Free Black Community
• Stephen Girard