Rev. James Power Smith was not born in Fredericksburg, but he preached
here for thirty years, at the Presbyterian Church, aiding the poor and
sick, and always smiling. He was highly successful in his church
achievements and in his years of editorship of the Central Presbyterian.
One night in his life proved him to be minted of fine metal, and that
night inscribed his name forever in history. It was the fearful night when
Stonewall Jackson received his death blow.
Captain Smith (now Reverend) was a theological student when war broke out,
and was immediately made a military lieutenant (not a chaplain).
Throughout the war he followed close to Jackson, on his staff. Religion
brought them together and their friendship was deep.
[Sidenote: _When Jackson Was Wounded_]
When in the darkness of the trees that overhang the Chancellorsville road,
"Stonewall" Jackson was mortally wounded and others about him killed by
their own troops there were a few men, among them General A. P. Hill, at
hand to help him. He had hardly been taken from his horse when two aides,
Lieutenant Morrison and Lieutenant Smith, arrived. With General Hill
directing, they arrested the bleeding. General Hill had to hurry back to
form his men for an attack. Lieutenant Morrison had just seen a field
piece, not 200 yards away, pointing down the Plank Road. There was no
litter, and General Jackson offered to walk to the rear. Leaning on Major
Leigh and Lieutenant Morrison, he began struggling toward his lines. They
had just placed Jackson on a litter that had been sent up, when the
Federal cannon began to rake the road with canister. Every figure, horse
or gun toward the Confederate lines disappeared. They tried to take him
back, but a litter-bearer was struck down and the Great Leader was dropped
and bruised.
In a moment, on the dark road swept by awful fire, there were but three
men, and, as the subject of this sketch, Lieutenant Smith, was one of
them, it is apropos to quote what Prof. R. S. Dabney says in his Life of
Jackson:
"The bearers and all the attendants, excepting Major Leigh and the
general's two aides, had left and fled into the woods. While the sufferer
lay in the road with his feet turned toward the enemy, exposed to the fire
of the guns, his attendants displayed a heroic fidelity which deserved to
go down in history with the immortal name of Jackson. Disdaining to leave
their chief, they lay down beside him, leaning above him and trying as far
as possible to protect him with their bodies. On one side was Major Leigh,
on the other Lieutenant Smith. Again and again was the earth torn by
volleys of canister, and minnie balls hissed over them, the iron striking
flashes from the stones about him."
Finally when the firing ceased, General Jackson was removed from the
battlefield to a hospital, and then to Mr. Chandler's house at Guinea
Station, where he died, May 10, 1863.
Lieutenant Smith became The Reverend when war ceased, and married Miss
Agnes Lucy Lacy, a daughter of Major J. Horace Lacy.
He was well known in Fredericksburg. For thirty years he was pastor here;
for fifty years Secretary of the Presbyterian Synod, and for years editor
of the Central Presbyterian. Many know his works. All men know the deep,
immovable courage it took that night to lie as a barrier, to take whatever
death might be hurled down the shell-swept road toward "Stonewall"
Jackson.
He still lives, in 1921, in Richmond. His voice is low, his smile soft,
and his religion his life. He is the last surviving member of "Stonewall"
Jackson's staff.