the legality and constitutionality of the
Fugitive Slave Act, he deplored that act as much as any. To the
eventual day of his defeat he stood, careless of his fate, firm
in his own principles, going down in defeat at last because he
would not permit his own state legislature--headed then by men
such as Warville Dunwody and his friends--to dictate to him the
workings of his own conscience. Stronger than Daniel Webster, he
was one of those who would not obey the dictates of that leader,
and he _did_ set up his "conscience above the law." These two men,
Benton and Dunwody, therefore, were at the time of which we write
two gladiators upon the scenes of a wild western region, as yet
little known in the eastern states, though then swiftly coming
forward into more specific notice.

Perhaps thirty or forty slaves were employed about Tallwoods home
farm, as it was called. They did their work much as they liked, in
a way not grudging for the main part. Idle and shiftless, relying
on the frequent absence of the master and the ease of gaining a
living, they worked no more than was necessary to keep up a
semblance of routine. In some way the acres got plowed and reaped,
in some way the meats were cured, in some way the animals were fed
and the table was served and the rooms kept in a semi-tidiness,
none too scrupulous. Always in Tallwoods there was something at
hand ready to eat, and there was fuel whereby fires might be made.
Such as it was, the hospitality of the place was ready. It was a
rich, loose way of life, and went on lazily and loosely, like the
fashion of some roomy old vehicle, not quite run down, but
advancing now and then with a groan or a creak at tasks imposed.

But now, another and most important matter for our note--there was
no woman's hand at Tallwoods. The care was that of servants, of
slaves. When things grew insupportable in their shiftlessness the
master lashed out an order and got what he demanded; then soon
matters sank back again to their old state. None might tell when
the master would ride away, and when gone none could say when he
would return. Since the death of his mother no woman's control had
ruled here, nor, in spite of the busy tongues at the larger cities
above, did there seem likelihood that any would soon share or alter
the fortunes of Tallwoods. Rumors floated here and there, tongues
wagged; but Tallwoods lay apart; and Tallwoods, as commonly was
conceded, had ways of its own.