In 1870, Governor Peter T. Washburn, who had served as adjutant general of the Vermont Militia during the war, recognized her efforts and presented her with an honorary commission as a lieutenant colonel on his military staff.

The third novel, Atla (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1886), was about the sinking of the legendary lost island called Atlantis.

At least one reviewer, The Churchman, was highly critical of it:—[3] Mrs. J. Gregory Smith, under the guise of fiction, has here endeavored to embody an idea of the stupendous civilization of the fabled Garden of the Hesperides, the Argonauts' Island of Flowers, and to describe the awful cataclysm by which, so runs the record of Hindu geology, it was destroyed eleven thousand four hundred years ago.

The desired idea is hardly embodied, though the author is clearly of opinion that luscious description and highly colored orientalisms in language are of themselves all that is necessary to reproduce in English the gorgeous realism of an ancient legend.

More is needed, and Mrs. J. Gregory Smith does not possess that more.In 1924, Seola was revised by the "Bible Students"—later known as Jehovah's Witnesses—and retitled Angels and Women.

Confederates infiltrated the town, robbed several banks, wounded two citizens (one mortally), and fled north to Canada.

[5] She then worked to organize the people of St. Albans to mount a pursuit of the raiders, which unsuccessfully attempted to prevent them from escaping to Canada.

[6] Smith wrote of her personal reminiscences of the St. Albans Raid in The Vermonter:—[7] "It was a dreary day, heavy clouds constantly.

About four o'clock, while I was engaged in domestic duties, my young daughters with me, one an infant in arms, a servant girl from our nearest neighbors rushed in greatly excited saying, "The rebels are in town, robbing the banks, burning the houses and killing the people.

no men on the premises, my daughters were too young for aid or counsel, perceiving something dreadful had happened they began to cry; there were no telephones in those days, I could not summon immediate help, my friends in town no doubt had all they could do to preserve their own lives and property.

I found a large horse pistol that had recently been presented to Mr. Smith and went out on the front steps of the house with it in my hand.

But as the rider turned into the carriage way I perceived him to be Stewart Stranahan, my sister's husband, who had been in the army of the Potomac on Custer's staff, but was now home on sick leave.

I tore through the house and out to the stable, where I found no enemies, but some of our own townspeople who said the raiders had taken so many horses from the village there were not enough left for the pursuit.

Presently some friends came in to assure me that immediate danger was over, the enemy had left town and a resolute party were in hot pursuit.

The telegraph operator in St. Albans had sent this message to the Governor: "Southern raiders are in town, robbing banks, shooting citizens, and burning houses."

Forgetting the alarm and anxiety that would follow such a message, without further ceremony he locked his office and rushed away to join the excited crowds that now thronged the streets.

Raids were plotted all along the border, the object of which was to seize railroad trains, rob banks, and burn towns.

He had called a council consisting of the Adjutant General and two other gentlemen, and was at that moment in earnest consultation as to what course was advisable, when in rushed a messenger pale and too much excited to speak and thrust a dispatch into his hand.

His first impulse was to St. Albans instantly, his family and home were in peril; a second thought brought his public duty to mind, the conspiracy might involve the entire northern border of the state.

He sent an order to the United States hospital at Montpelier, and in a brief time a squad from the veteran invalid corps took the recalled train and hastened to St. Albans.

Great excitement and apprehension prevailed, strange fireworks were thrown up at night, a barn west of the village was burned.

He respectfully suggested that this might be a ruse of the enemy to draw the guard from their post and give opportunity to burn our buildings.