Excerpt from An Alabama Woman
The war was over. To Mrs. Willard it seemed like a. Hideous dream. Her husband, a brave Confederate officer, slept in a far-away Virginia grave. Her eldest son of eighteen lay in an unknown trench with hundreds of others.
There were left to her Cora, her only daughter, twelve, and Tresham, a boy of ten.
Her three hundred slaves were freed; her broad acres were untilled; she had left only poverty, loneliness and widowhood.
Mrs. Willard took counsel with her manager, Hr. Mason, who advised her to hire her freed slaves and plant a prodigious crop of cotton. This staple, he argued, was rising in price every day, and in a few years she would be almost as wealthy as before.
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