On the other hand the Federalist press could not boast that its hands were altogether clean. As the trial got under way, _The Gazette_, speaking for the conservative element, presented in its columns an extract from a letter allegedly received from Caroline County, between Richmond and Washington--no doubt penned by a gentleman of as “unquestionable character” as _The Enquirer_’s gentleman from New Orleans--whose subtle aim was to discredit the Government’s witnesses. It stated that a man on his way to Richmond as a witness for Mr. Jefferson against Colonel Burr had been detected in an attempt to start an insurrection among the Negro slaves in that county. Since the Virginia countryside was still in a state of alarm over an abortive uprising led by a slave named General Israel several years before, no more serious charge against a witness could have been made. That, warned _The Gazette_, “ought to make the court and jury extremely cautious in giving credence to witnesses on both sides until characters are examined. Such a man would not scruple to swear away a man’s life for a few dollars.” In announcing his policy of impartiality Editor Ritchie had reserved to himself the right “unhesitatingly to give all the new facts as they offer themselves.” While Colonel Burr was free on bail an opportunity presented itself such as would delight the heart of any editor. Richmonders in those days lived well. The farms outside the city provided a varied supply of meats, poultry, vegetables and fruits in season. The town was sufficiently close to salt water to be supplied with oysters and other seafood in spite of primitive methods of refrigeration. Mrs. David Randolph, who conducted a fashionable boardinghouse and was famous as cook and provider, was credited with having devised a cold box that served as a model for the first refrigerator in this country. Ships from abroad that dropped anchor at City Point, below the town, brought in consignments of the finest wines that, along with the rest of their cargo, were poled on flatboats upstream to the city market. In the spring of the year the James was alive with shad which came up to fresh water to spawn. For a naturally hospitable people the temptation to entertain was overwhelming. A popular custom among the members of the legal profession was “lawyer dinners” at which the lights of bench and bar sat down together to partake of good food and drink and to engage in sparkling conversation. In this form of entertainment John Wickham excelled. He was among the élite who dwelt on Shockoe Hill and no household there enjoyed a higher reputation for serving the best of food. None boasted more capable servants than Bob, the butler, and Bob’s wife, the cook, who, under the guidance of Eliza Wickham, could prepare the most complicated dishes. No one, except for the most impelling reason, would decline an invitation to attend one of the Wickham dinners.