Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 10.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

[373] completely enveloped his person, which may account for it. And, further, from a careful examination of his wound next morning, I became satisfied that the Captain was killed, as I have before said, by a random shot. The wound was immediately over the heart — had a perfect circular suffusion of blood under the skin, something larger than a silver dollar, but the skin was unbroken, and not a drop of blood was shed. Nothing but a round spent ball could have inflicted such a wound. Manifestly, it was the shock of the blow, which, suspending the machinery of the heart, had necessarily produced instant death. It was reported to me that Captain Marr, when found, was upon his face, with his sword firmly gripped in his right hand, not having taken time, it is inferred, in the hurry and excitement of passing events, to belt it round his person. Captain Marr being thus killed, a fact unknown to his men, the enemy having gone up the turn-pike, driving part of the Prince William company before it, and the Rappahannock company left in the court-house lot having completed its formation, moved into the street, west of said lot, and to avoid the enemy on his return, turning in the direction of Marr's men, near the Stevenson road was, in the extreme darkness, mistaken by them for the enemy, and was fired upon, severely wounding one of the cavalry. This, very naturally, impressed the cavalry company with the idea they had been fired upon by the enemy. So that under the mutual mistake, the cavalry being entirely unfit for effectual service, and the left wing of the Rifles demoralized by the unexpected disappearance of its Captain, both dispersed, and sought safety in darkness, perhaps as intense as I ever saw.

While these events were occurring, of which I knew nothing other than from the noise, I was satisfied that the enemy had passed through town. I was delayed briefly in fixing my tape to my Maynard rifle. Hurrying to the quarters of the Warrenton Rifles, I found about forty or forty-five of them, a short distance this side of their quarters, standing in the clover lot before referred to and resting on the fence which enclosed it, and without an officer. I promptly addressed them, “Boys, where is your Captain?” They answered, “We do not know, sir.” Where is your Lieutenant (meaning Shackleford)? The answer was the same. (It is due that I should say that both the Lieutenants, Shackleford and McGee were absent on leaves with their families). Knowing that the men did not look to the other officers to command, I said to them, “Boys, you know me, follow me.” Without hesitation, they jumped the the fence, and at the corner of the court-house lot on the sidewalk leading from the church to the hotel, I, without the slightest knowledge of tactics, commenced to form them into two files. I had