On ODU's Campus, a Quiet Reminder of Past Times and Quarantine
“Map of the County Contiguous to Norfolk (circa 1812),” from the National Archives, shows the locations of the Quarantine House, #1, and the Quarantine Station, #2.
By Annette Finley-Croswhite
Much has been written about the 1855 yellow fever epidemic that killed approximately 3,000 people in Norfolk and Portsmouth, Virginia, probably more since the deaths of the poor were rarely recorded. My interest, however, is in the two quarantine houses in Norfolk: one that stood off Lambert's Point near the coal piers and was an office of sorts, and another on what is today Eleanor Court in Larchmont where the sick were detained. The Quarantine Road also cut through land that became the Old Dominion University campus, and that is why in 1969 the Norfolk Historical Society placed a marker behind Webb Center denoting the history of the city and quarantine. Crushed seashells line the way to remind us of the historical significance of the site.
Quarantine is a tried and true method of social distancing, practiced long before medical science was defined by germ theory. It is mentioned in ancient texts, including the Bible, but in the Western experience became a common practice in the late Middle Ages to stop the spread of bubonic plague. We get the word "quarantine" from the Italian word for forty, quaranta. Typically, the quarantine period lasted "forty days and forty nights."
In Norfolk, quarantine posts were in use between 1783 and 1862, although earlier attempts at quarantine probably occurred and later use was tied to federal government involvement. The city leaders feared in particular cholera, smallpox, and yellow fever. Since Norfolk was a regular stopover for ships leaving the West Indies on their way to New York and because yellow fever outbreaks were common in the Caribbean, vessels coming from that direction were often quarantined if there was reason to believe the ship and crew had been exposed. Epidemic disaster was known to destroy urban economies and to be avoided at all costs. An editorial in The Norfolk and Portsmouth Herald stated on February 25, 1853, "Let sickness prevail within the limits of the city to a degree to excite alarm abroad and our storekeepers may almost as well close their doors." Quarantine did not prevent yellow fever outbreaks from wreaking havoc on the city numerous times during the 19th century, but the 1855 epidemic was the worst of the occurrences and led to the near economic ruin of a city further challenged shortly thereafter by the Civil War.
The 1812 map included here shows the sites of both the Quarantine Station (#2) for ships off Lambert's Point and the isolated Quarantine House (#1) near Tanner's Creek. Land sale notices in the local papers from the early 19th century indicate that the area around the Quarantine House included apple and peach orchards and excellent fishing off the shore. Even so, no one wanted to end up in quarantine and conditions were likely appalling. One story says a Scotsman who owned a farm near what is today Larchmont Elementary School used giant clubs on quarantine officers to prevent them from placing his recently arrived children in quarantine. In reality, the wealthy often escaped quarantine, while poor immigrants, sailors, and more than likely some slaves and free blacks did not. Failing to abide by quarantine guidelines, however, is what led to the 1855 yellow fever disaster when the captain of the Benjamin Franklin, a ship recently arrived from St. Thomas, lied to quarantine officers and then emptied his bilge against regulations, unleashing the deadly mosquitoes that transmit the disease.
This historical marker stands in Monarch Gardens on ODU’s main campus.
When encountering disease, 19th-century people were not that different from Americans today. Many asserted that quarantine compromised their personal rights and that it was their right to choose whether to obey quarantine officers or not. Diseases and scapegoating are linked now just as they were then. While some people have blamed COVID-19 on the Chinese, for example, many doctors in Norfolk in 1855 placed the blame for yellow fever on the Irish who lived downtown on the impoverished streets where the disease first appeared. Today wealthier people have access to health insurance that covers medical expenses; in the past the wealthy most often had the means to flee disease-filled cities, while the poor were abandoned to an awful fate. In the case of Norfolk, many of those citizens who fled for urban centers further north never returned - and took their business interests and money with them.
Disease outbreaks also reveal the interconnected nature of communities. In Norfolk and Portsmouth many citizens became reliant on slaves and free blacks to care for them during the outbreak. People of African descent had some immunity to yellow fever and experienced only mild cases if they contracted the disease at all. Stories exist of slaves who refused to abandon their owners during the crisis when the sheer chaos made escape options possible. Some even remained with orphaned white children after the parents died. The African American contribution to health care and other vital services during the yellow fever outbreak is a critical part of the disease narrative.
Standing on an empty campus on what is left of Quarantine Road today, one might shudder to think of quarantine in the past. Even so, the most important lesson learned here in the context of yellow fever is what happens when quarantine is disregarded. Perhaps our local history can teach us patience as we continue to shelter in place.
Watch a WTKR news piece about local quarantine history featuring Dr. Finley-Croswhite.
