THE "DREUX SKIRMISH."
It pains me no litle to write the following account of this
sad affair, but it was my intention when I first commenced this journal to
give, as far as I was able, a just and truthful account of the scenes through
which we passed during the war and if there seems to the general reader a small
amount of egotism he must excuse it. Other and more elaborate histories of the
war will be written by professed journalists but few of them will be real
actors on the bloody stage.
Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Dreux, commanding the First Battalion
of Louisiana Volunteers, and also commanding this expedition was as brave and
gallant an officer as ever drew sword for Freedom.
Our attempt to capture a small marauding body of the enemy
ended in miserable failure, and cost poor Dreux his life—cut down in the prime
of life. Twenty picked men were selected from each of the five companies of the
Louisiana Battalion, but instead of those being commanded by one ranking
company officer, each squad of twenty took its full compliment of company
officers, thus having at least four times as many commissioned officers as was
necessary; there were also twenty cavalrymen belonging to the "Halifax
(Va.) Catawba Troops," and eight picked men from my Company (Fourth
Detachment, Third Company) with a Sergeant, Corporal and two Commissioned
officers, Captain Stanard and Lieutenant Moseley; in all about one hundred and
fifty men.
Unfortunately the driver to our howitzer was totally
inexperienced and his horses were then being driven for the first time and were
quite wild.
The plan was this:
We left Young's Mill about midnight, and taking the road to Newport News reached our destination a short time before dawn of day, and Dreux's plan was to form his infantry on the left of the main road, his howitzer on the left of the infantry and in a small country road running into the main road, whilst the cavalry were in rear of the howitzer and acting as its especial guard. We were expressly ordered not to open fire until orders were given by Dreux in person, and it was understood that we were to allow the Yankees to pass the country road, our gun being concealed, and ready for action, when we were to run our gun into the main road "by hand to the front" and open upon them, whilst the infantry would uncover, and the cavalry charge" at the same time. The Yankees coming up rather slowly Colonel Dreux sent out a small scouting party to see what had become of them, and this party ran plump into the Yankees before they were aware of it. Several shots passed and there was no chance of an ambuscade then, and the first thing I knew we were all mixed up together, the Yankees having come through the woods right upon us, not confining themselves to the main road. A very deliberate looking “blue coat" took a cool aim at my head, fired, the ball grazing my cheek, and I think killed Dreux, who was standing a few paces behind me, though none of us saw him fall. This was the first shot fired and the Yankee was not more than fifteen paces from me. Here was a predicament—our gun charged with "canister," within. twenty yards of the enemy, and we ordered not to fire unless Dreux gave the order—and he dead, unknown to us, and the Yankees popping away at us at a fearful rate, their fire feebly returned by a portion of our infantry, they, like ourselves, being ordered not to fire unless Dreux gave the order. Stanard and Moseley, who were both absent, I never have known where, at the commencement of the fight, now rushed up to us, and Stanard, in a very excited manner ordered the gun to be "limbered up" and taken out of the road, as the Yankees were all around us (so he said). We begged him to let us give the enemy a shot, but no! "limber to the front, and get out of that road!" The cavalry, not knowing what "limber to the front" meant, I presume, concluded it was too hot for them and, after shooting one of our own scouts, dashed down the road in a complete panic—running against our horses, attached to our gun, who likewise took affright, and, by just a "leetle" help from the driver, scampered off and up the road in confusion—worse confounded. One of our detachment, W. Gordon McCabe, seeing this yelled out to the Louisiana troops: "Our gun is gone, but our men are all here!”
The Yankees hearing this extraordinary rumpus, concluded
they had gotten into a "hornet's nest" and betook themselves down the
road as fast as our cavalry and gun horses scampered up.
One of our scouts being mortally wounded, three of us went
after him, put him in a "pressed" cart and brought him where our
infantry was, but he, poor fellow, died whilst we were putting him in the cart.
We then put Dreux's body in the same cart and mournfully wended our way back to
Young's Mill, where the remainder of Dreux's Battalion met us, perfectly
overwhelmed with grief, for he was Charley Dreux with the humblest private in
the ranks and the idol of his command. In the afternoon it was reported the
Yankees were advancing upon Young's Mill, but it turned out to be a false
alarm.
SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the
War; or What I Saw of It, p. 104-7
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