Her slaves were taken away, so, finally, was the home, and, with her little children, she took up her abode in a miserable log cabin, where she became an object of charity.

A year and a half had rolled away; but she had not wholly given up her husband for dead.

The vessel might have blown out of its course, it might have been captured by pirates, or Spaniards, and her husband might yet escape.
She had been so cool toward his relatives, that they had not seen her for a year.

She was proud and would have suffered death rather than appeal to them for aid; but her children--his children, were suffering, and, as she had to give up even the log cabin to rapacious creditors, at last she appealed to his mother and sister, whom she had despised.
"You are welcome.

Come and share our home," was the response.
Almost heartbroken, yet proud, Dorothe with her children set out for the distant plantation in the county in which lived the relatives of her husband.
Political changes were coming, which were to have a marked effect on Dorothe, who gave up her husband for dead and donned the widow's weeds.
Those changes were the restoration.
In 1658, Cromwell died and named his son Richard as his successor.