"Colonel, I will bring back these colors to you in honor, or report to God the reason why." It was now past 11 A.M., May 27, 1863. The men were struggling in front of the bluff. The brave Callioux was lying lifeless upon the field, that was now slippery with gore and crimson with blood. The enemy was directing his shell and shot at the flags of the First Regiment. A shell, about a six-pounder, struck the flag-staff, cut it in two, and carried away part of the head of Planciancois. He fell, and the flag covered him as a canopy of glory, and drank of the crimson tide that flowed from his mutilated head. Corporal Heath caught up the flag, but no sooner had he shouldered the dear old banner than a musket ball went crashing through his head and scattered his brains upon the flag, and he, still clinging to it, fell dead upon the body of Sergeant Planciancois. Another corporal caught up the banner and bore it through the fight with pride. This was the last charge--the seventh; and what was left of this gallant Black brigade came back from the hell into which they had plunged with so much daring and forgetfulness seven times. They did not capture the battery on the bluff it's true, but they convinced the white soldiers on both sides that they were both willing and able to help fight the battles of the Union. And if any person doubts the abilities of the Negro as a soldier, let him talk with General Banks, as we have, and hear "his golden eloquence on the black brigade at Port Hudson." A few days after the battle a "New York Times" correspondent sent the following account to that journal: "BATTLE OF PORT HUDSON. "In an account of the Battle of Port Hudson, the 'Times' correspondent says: 'Hearing the firing apparently more fierce and continuous to the right than anywhere else, I hurried in that direction, past the sugar house of Colonel Chambers, where I had slept, and advanced to near the pontoon bridge across the Big Sandy Bayou, which the negro regiments had erected, and where they were fighting most desperately. I had seen these brave and hitherto despised fellows the day before as I rode along the lines, and I had seen General Banks acknowledge their respectful salute as he would have done that of any white troops; but still the question was--with too many,--"Will they fight?" The black race was, on this eventful day, to be put to the test, and the question to be settled--now and forever,--whether or not they are entitled to assert their right to manhood. Nobly, indeed, have they acquitted themselves, and proudly may every colored man hereafter hold up his head, and point to the record of those who fell on that bloody field.