Whittier; "and I could not blame the man. He came here supposing
America to be a free country, and he was bitterly disappointed. Pity
for that poor slave and his bereaved family agonized my heart; and
my cheeks burned with shame that my country deserved the red-hot
curses of that honest German; but stronger than either of those
feelings was overpowering indignation that people of the Free States
were compelled by law to witness such barbarities."

Many of you have heard of William and Ellen Crafts, a pious and
intelligent couple, who escaped from bondage some years ago. She
disguised herself in male attire, and passed for a white gentleman,
taking her darker colored husband with her as a servant. When the
Fugitive Slave Act went into operation, they received warning that
the hounds were on their track. They sought temporary refuge in the
house of my noble-hearted friend, Ellis Gray Loring, who then
resided in the vicinity of Boston. He and his family were absent for
some days; but a lady in the house invited Mr. Crafts to come in and
stay till they returned. "No, I thank you," he replied. "There is a
heavy fine for sheltering fugitives; and it would not be right to
subject Mr. Loring to it without his consent." "But you know he is a
true friend to the slaves," urged the lady. "If he were at home, I
am sure he would not hesitate to incur the penalty." "Because he is
such a good friend to my oppressed race, there is all the more
reason why I should not implicate him in my affairs, without his
knowledge," replied this nobleman of nature. His wife had slept but
little the previous night, having been frightened by dreams of
Daniel Webster chasing her husband, pistol in hand. The evening was
stormy, and she asked him if they could not remain there till
morning. "It would not be right, Ellen," he replied; and with tears
in her eyes, they went forth into the darkness and rain. Was _that_