DIANA SMITH, THE HEROINE OF THE NORTHWEST.–

She was born and raised in the County of Jackson, Virginia. Her father is a consistent member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and was leading a quiet, peaceful, and useful life, until his country was invaded, when he called his countrymen to arms, and raised the first company of guerrillas, which he commanded until last fall, when, by fraud and treachery, he was captured, and ever since has been confined in a loathsome dungeon at Camp Chase, Ohio, without hope of delivery, unless our government should interpose and procure his release.

Diana, his only daughter, a beautiful girl, has been tenderly raised and well educated. She is also a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and has always been regarded as very pious and exemplary. She is descended from a race of unflinching nerve, and satisfied with nothing less than freedom, as unrestrained as the pure air of their mountain home.

Her devotion to the cause of Southern rights, in which her father had nobly engaged, has caused her, too, to feel the oppressor’s power. Although a tender and delicate flower, upon whose cheek the bloom of sixteen summers yet lingers, she has been five times captured by the Yankees, and marched sometimes on foot, in manacles, a prisoner–once a considerable distance into Ohio, at which time she made her escape. She was never released, but in each instance managed to escape from her guard. She, too, has seen service; she was in several battles in which her father engaged the enemy. She has seen blood flow like water. Her trusty rifle has made more than one of the vile Yankees bite the dust. She left her home in company with the Moccason Rangers, Captain Kesler, and came through the enemy’s lines in safety, and is now at the Blue Sulphur Springs.

She was accompanied by Miss Duskie, who has also earned the proud distinction of a heroine. On one occasion this fearless girl, surrounded by fifty Yankees and Union men, rushed through their ranks with a daring that struck terror to their craven hearts. With her rifle lashed across her shoulders, she swam the west fork of the Kanawha River, and made her way to the Mountain Rangers, preferring to trust her safety to those brave spirits, well knowing that her sex would entitle her to protection from these brave mountaineers. These young ladies have lain in the mountains for months, with no bed but the earth, and no covering but the canopy of heaven. They have shared the soldier’s rough fare, his dangers, his hopes, and his joys.

The great crime with which these daring young ladies are charged by the enemy, is cooking, washing, mending and making clothes, and buying powder for the soldiers. We are informed that they are both ladies of the first rank at home, and are every way worthy of the highest place in any society where virtue, integrity, and sterling principle give position.–Southern paper.

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I’m a lover of God and His Son Jesus Christ. In addition I love to make yesterday’s words come alive through the republishing of good and profitable books of old. The Civil War project is an ongoing labor of love. – Karan

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