Excerpt from Reminiscences in the Life of a Peripatetic Newsman ( Anonymous, 1906, New York, private collection ) A blizzard of the most intense ferocity swept the East River on that morning in January, 1861, and our miserable company was already chilled to the marrow when we departed from Manhattan and embarked on the ferry to Brooklyn. Only the loyal and true were in attendance: less than a dozen souls all told. I must admit to a certain relief that none of my fellow scribblers had as yet heard of the lady’s demise and it was providential that I had received a private communication from a friend who was aware of my association with the deceased. Thus it was that our group gained little attention from the public, appearing much as any other mourners headed for Green-Wood, pallid of countenance and swathed in black. Some of my companions were previously known to me, such as the Buchanan couple and the fiery Democrat orator and preacher, the Reverend Francis Hawks, but I po