The removals from Philadelphia began about the 25th or 26th of this month; and so much terrified were the public, that for some weeks, almost every hour in the day, carts, waggons, coachees, and chairs, were to be seen transporting families and furniture to the country in every direction. Many people shut up their houses wholly; others left servants to take care of them. Business then became extremely dull. Mechanics and artists were unemployed; and the streets wore the appearance of gloom and melancholy. The consternation of the people of Philadelphia at this period was carried beyond all bounds. Dismay and affright were visible in almost every person's countenance. Most people who could by any means make it convenient, fled from the city. Of those who remained, many shut themselves up in their houses, and were afraid to walk the streets. The smoke of tobacco being regarded as a preventative, many persons, even women and small boys, had segars constantly in their mouths. Others placing full confidence in garlic, chewed it almost the whole day; some kept it in their shoes. Many were afraid to allow the barbers or hair-dressers to come near them, as instances had occurred of some of them having shaved the dead — and many of them had engaged as bleeders. Some who carried their caution pretty far, bought lancets for themselves, not daring to be bled with the lancets of the bleeders. Some houses were hardly a moment in the day free from the smell of gunpowder, burned tobacco, nitre, sprinkled vinegar, &c. Many of the churches were almost deserted, and some wholly closed. The coffee house was shut up, as was the city library, and most of the public offices — three out of the four daily papers were dropped, as were some of the other papers. Many were almost incessantly purifying, scouring, and whitewashing their rooms. Those who ventured abroad, had handkerchiefs or sponges impregnated with vinegar or camphor at their noses, or else smelling bottles with the thieves' vinegar. Others carried pieces of tarred rope in their hands or pockets, or camphor bags tied round their necks. The corpses of the most respectable citizens, even of those who did not die of the epidemic, were carried to the grave, on the shafts of a chair, the horse driven by a negro, unattended by a friend or relation, and without any sort of ceremony. People hastily shifted their course at the sight of a hearse coming towards them. Many never walked on the foot path, but went into the middle of the streets, to avoid being infected in passing by houses wherein people had died. Acquaintances and friends avoided each other in the streets, and only signified their regard by a cold nod. The old custom of shaking hands fell into such general disuse, that many were affronted at even the offer of the hand. A person with a crape, or any appearance of mourning, was shunned like a viper. And many valued themselves highly on the skill and address with which they got to windward of every person they met. Indeed it is not probable that London, at the last stage of the plague, exhibited stronger marks of terror, than were to be seen in Philadelphia, from the 25th or 26th of August till pretty late in September. When people summoned up resolution to walk abroad, and take the air, the sick cart conveying patients to the hospital, or the hearse carrying the dead to the grave, which were travelling almost the whole day, soon damped their spirits, and plunged them again into despondency. While affairs were in this deplorable state, and people at the lowest ebb of despair, we cannot be astonished at the frightful scenes that were acted, which seemed to indicate a total dissolution of the bonds of society in the nearest and dearest connexions. Who, without horror, can reflect on a husband, married perhaps for twenty years, deserting his wife in the last agony — a wife unfeelingly abandoning her husband on his death bed — parents forsaking their only children — children ungratefully flying from their parents, and resigning them to chance, often without an enquiry after their health or safety — masters hurrying off their faithful servants to Bushhill, even on suspicion of the fever, and that at a time, when, like Tartarus, it was open to every visitant, but never returned any — servants abandoning tender and humane masters, who only wanted a little care to restore them to health and usefulness — who, I say, can even now think of these things without horror? Yet they were daily exhibited in every quarter of our city; and such was the force of habit, that the parties who were guilty of this cruelty, felt no remorse themselves — nor met with the execration from their fellow-citizens, which such conduct would have excited at any other period. Indeed, at this awful crisis, so much did self appear to engross the whole attention of many, that less concern was felt for the loss of a parent, a husband, a wife, or an only child, than, on other occasions, would have been caused by the death of a servant, or even of a favourite lap dog. When the yellow fever prevailed in South Carolina, the negroes, according to that accurate observer, dr. Lining, were wholly free from it. "There is something very singular in the constitution of the negroes," says he, "which renders them not liable to this fever; for though many of them were as much exposed as the nurses to this infection; yet I never knew one instance of this fever among them, though they are equally subject with the white people to the bilious fever." The same idea prevailed for a considerable time in Philadelphia; but it was erroneous. They did not escape the disorder; however, the number of them that were seized with it, was not great; and, as I am informed by an eminent doctor, "it yielded to the power of medicine in them more easily than in the whites." The error that prevailed on this subject had a very salutary effect; for at an early period of the disorder, hardly any white nurses could be procured; and had the negroes been equally terrified, the sufferings of the sick, great as they actually were, would have been exceedingly aggravated. At the period alluded to, the elders of the African church met, and offered their services to the mayor, to procure nurses for the sick, and to assist in burying the dead. Their offers were accepted; and Absalom Jones and Richard Allen undertook the former department, that of furnishing nurses, and William Gray, the latter— the interment of the dead. The great demand for nurses afforded an opportunity for imposition, which was eagerly seized by some of the vilest of the blacks. They extorted two, three, four, and even five dollars a night for attendance, which would have been well paid by a single dollar. Some of them were even detected in plundering the houses of the sick. But it is wrong to cast a censure on the whole for this sort of conduct, as many people have done. The services of Jones, Allen, and Gray, and others of their colour, have been very great, and demand public gratitude. On examining the books of the hospital at Bushhill, it appears that there were above fifteen blacks received there, of whom three fourths died. There may have been more, as the examination was made very cursorily.

The removals from Philadelphia began about the 25th or 26th of this month [August], and so much terrified were the public that for some weeks, almost every hour in the day, carts, wagons, coachees, and chairs were to be seen transporting families and furniture to the country in every direction. Many people shut up their houses wholly; others left servants to take care of them. Business then became extremely dull. Mechanics and artists were unemployed, and the streets wore the appearance of gloom and melancholy. The consternation of the people of Philadelphia at this period was carried beyond all bounds. Dismay and affright were visible in almost every person’s countenance. Most people who could by any means make it convenient fled from the city. Of those who remained, many shut themselves up in their houses, and were afraid to walk the streets. The smoke of tobacco being regarded as a preventative, many persons, even women and small boys, had cigars constantly in their mouths. Others, placing full confidence in garlic, chewed it almost the whole day; some kept it in their shoes. Many were afraid to allow the barbers or hairdressers to come near them, as instances had occurred of some of them having shaved the dead, and many of them had engaged as bleeders. Some who carried their caution pretty far bought lancets for themselves, not daring to be bled with the lancets of the bleeders. Some houses were hardly a moment in the day free from the smell of gunpowder, burned tobacco, niter, sprinkled vinegar, etc. Many of the churches were almost deserted, and some wholly closed. The coffeehouse was shut up, as was the city library, and most of the public offices. Three out of the four daily papers were dropped, as were some of the other papers. Many were almost incessantly purifying, scouring, and whitewashing their rooms. Those who ventured abroad had handkerchiefs or sponges impregnated with vinegar or camphor at their noses, or else smelling bottles with the thieves’ vinegar. Others carried pieces of tarred rope in their hands or pockets, or camphor bags tied round their necks. The corpses of the most respectable citizens, even of those who did not die of the epidemic, were carried to the grave on the shafts of a chair, the horse driven by a negro, unattended by a friend or relation, and without any sort of ceremony. People hastily shifted their course at the sight of a hearse coming toward them. Many never walked on the footpath, but went into the middle of the streets, to avoid being infected in passing by houses wherein people had died. Acquaintances and friends avoided each other in the streets, and only signified their regard by a cold nod. The old custom of shaking hands fell into such general disuse that many were affronted at even the offer of the hand. A person with a crape, or any appearance of mourning, was shunned like a viper. And many valued themselves highly on the skill and address with which they got to windward of every person they met. Indeed it is not probable that London, at the last stage of the plague, exhibited stronger marks of terror than were to be seen in Philadelphia from the 25th or 26th of August till pretty late in September. When people summoned up resolution to walk abroad and take the air, the sick cart conveying patients to the hospital, or the hearse carrying the dead to the grave, which were traveling almost the whole day, soon damped their spirits, and plunged them again into despondency. While affairs were in this deplorable state, and people at the lowest ebb of despair, we cannot be astonished at the frightful scenes that were acted, which seemed to indicate a total dissolution of the bonds of society in the nearest and dearest connections. Who, without horror, can reflect on a husband, married perhaps for twenty years, deserting his wife in the last agony; a wife unfeelingly abandoning her husband on his deathbed; parents forsaking their only children; children ungratefully flying from their parents, and resigning them to chance, often without an inquiry after their health or safety; masters hurrying off their faithful servants to Bush Hill, even on suspicion of the fever, and that at a time when, like Tartarus, it was open to every visitant, but never returned any; servants abandoning tender and humane masters, who only wanted a little care to restore them to health and usefulness—who, I say, can even now think of these things without horror? Yet they were daily exhibited in every quarter of our city; and such was the force of habit that the parties who were guilty of this cruelty felt no remorse themselves, nor met with the execration from their fellow citizens which such conduct would have excited at any other period. Indeed, at this awful crisis, so much did self appear to engross the whole attention of many that less concern was felt for the loss of a parent, a husband, a wife, or an only child than, on other occasions, would have been caused by the death of a servant, or even of a favorite lapdog. When the yellow fever prevailed in South Carolina, the negroes, according to that accurate observer Dr. Lining, were wholly free from it. “There is something very singular in the constitution of the negroes,” says he, “which renders them not liable to this fever; for though many of them were as much exposed as the nurses to this infection, yet I never knew one instance of this fever among them, though they are equally subject with the white people to the bilious fever.” The same idea prevailed for a considerable time in Philadelphia, but it was erroneous. They did not escape the disorder; however, the number of them that were seized with it was not great, and, as I am informed by an eminent doctor, “it yielded to the power of medicine in them more easily than in the whites.” The error that prevailed on this subject had a very salutary effect, for at an early period of the disorder hardly any white nurses could be procured, and had the negroes been equally terrified, the sufferings of the sick, great as they actually were, would have been exceedingly aggravated. At the period alluded to, the elders of the African church met, and offered their services to the mayor, to procure nurses for the sick, and to assist in burying the dead. Their offers were accepted; and Absalom Jones and Richard Allen undertook the former department, that of furnishing nurses, and William Gray the latter, the interment of the dead. The great demand for nurses afforded an opportunity for imposition, which was eagerly seized by some of the vilest of the blacks. They extorted two, three, four, and even five dollars a night for attendance, which would have been well paid by a single dollar. Some of them were even detected in plundering the houses of the sick. But it is wrong to cast a censure on the whole for this sort of conduct, as many people have done. The services of Jones, Allen, and Gray, and others of their color, have been very great, and demand public gratitude. On examining the books of the hospital at Bush Hill, it appears that there were above fifteen blacks received there, of whom three-fourths died. There may have been more, as the examination was made very cursorily.