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 pestilence, 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.