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Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 1, Chapter 13: Marriage.—shall the Liberator die?—George Thompson.—1834. (search)
vior on this and on every other occasion. The short hours spent together in rambles up the romantic Gray Mare hill which overhangs the little valley, or in the privacy of evening, or in the common intercourse of the amiable household, confirmed them in the wisdom and sacredness of their new relation. Other interviews, on Mr. Garrison's return to Boston (in May) and again in July, pleasantly interrupted and stimulated their ardent correspondence. At last the wedding was fixed for Thursday, September 4, when the ceremony was feelingly performed by Mr. May. All the appointments were plain and unostentatious. Wine of course was absent from the feast, and even cake was not provided, both bride and groom feeling the importance of their example to the colored population, whose interest in the event would naturally be keen Speaking generally, Helen Benson wrote on May 22. 1834. I am aware of the responsibility that will devolve upon me, and how much my example will be copied among t
Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 1, Chapter 14: the Boston mob (first stage).—1835. (search)
thousand dollars for those that were adopted and delivered in what was once the old Cradle of Liberty. . . . Let our step be firm—our demeanor dignified—our speech just and fearless. . . . You write nothing about brother James. Has he yet sailed J. H. Garrison. from Boston? and if so, under what circumstances did he leave? My heart bleeds over him. God is merciful and long-suffering —and there lies all my hope of his complete restoration. To George W. Benson, at Providence, September 4: How imminent is the danger that hovers about the persons Ms. of our friends George Thompson and Arthur Tappan! Rewards for the seizure of the latter are multiplying—in one place they offer three thousand dollars for his ears—a purse has been made up, publicly, of $20,000, in New Orleans, for his person. I, too, Lib. 5.153, 157. —I desire to bless God,—am involved in almost equal peril. I have just received a letter written evidently by a friendly hand, in which I am