He was in the rear of City Hall when the mayor
caught up to him and his would-be rescuers. The mayor perceived the
extremity of the situation, and said to the Faneuil Hall giants who had
hold of Garrison, "Take him into my office," which was altogether more
easily said than done. For the rioters have raised the cry "to the Frog
Pond with him!" Which order will be carried out, that of the magistrate
or that of the mob?
These were horrible moments while the two hung trembling in the balance.
But other private citizens coming to the assistance of the mayor struck
the scales for the moment in his favor, and Garrison was finally
hustled, and thrust by main force into the south door of the City Hall
and carried up to the mayor's room. But the mob had immediately effected
an entrance into the building through the north door and filled the
lower hall. The mayor now addressed the pack, strove manfully in his
feeble way to prevail upon the human wolves to observe order, to sustain
the law and the honor of the city, he even intimated to them that he was
ready to lay down his life on the spot to maintain the law and preserve
order. Then he got out on the ledge over the south door and spoke in a
similar strain to the mob on the street. But alas! he knew not the
secret for reversing the Circean spell by which gentlemen of property
and standing in the community had been suddenly transformed into a
wolfish rabble.
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