On the 27th the assault was ordered. Two colored regiments of Louisiana Native Guards, the First Regiment with all line officers colored, and the Third with white officers throughout, were put under command of Colonel John A. Nelson, of the Third Regiment, and assigned to position on the right of the line, where the assault was begun. The right began the assault in the morning; for some reason the left did not assault until late in the afternoon. Six companies of the First Louisiana and nine companies of the Third, in all 1080 men, were formed in column of attack. Even now, one cannot contemplate unmoved the desperate valor of these black troops and the terrible slaughter among them as they were sent to their impossible task that day in May. Moving forward in double quick time the column emerged from the woods, and passing over the plain strewn with felled trees and entangled brushwood, plunged into a fury of shot and shell as they charged for the batteries on the rebel left. Again and again that unsupported column of black troops held to their hopeless mission by the unrelenting order of the brigade commander, hurled itself literally into the jaws of death, many meeting horrible destruction actually at the cannon's mouth. It was a day prodigal with deeds of fanatical bravery. The colors of the First Louisiana, torn and shivered in that fearful hail of fire, were still borne forward in front of the works by the color-sergeant, until a shell from the enemy cut the flag in two and gave the sergeant his mortal wound. He fell spattering the flag with blood and brains and hugged it to his bosom as he lay in the grasp of death. Two corporals sprang forward to seize the colors, contending in generous rivalry until a rebel sharpshooter felled one of them across the sergeant's lifeless body. The other dashed proudly forward with the flag. Sixteen men fell that day defending the colors. Black officers and white officers commanded side by side, moving among the men to prompt their valor by word and example, revealing no difference in their equal contempt of death. Captain Quinn, of the Third Regiment, with forty reckless followers, bearing their rifles and cartridge boxes above their heads, swam the ditch and leaped among the guns, when they were ordered back to escape a regiment of rebels hastening for their rear. Six of them re-crossed alive, and of these only two were unhurt, the brave Quinn and a Lieutenant. The gallant Captain Andre Cailloux, who commanded the color company of the First Louisiana, a man black as night, but a leader by birth and education, moved in eager zeal among his men, cheering them on by words and his own noble example, with his left arm already shattered, proudly refusing to leave the field. In a last effort of heroism, he sprang to the front of his company, commanded his men to follow him, and in the face of that murderous fire, gallantly led them forward until a shell smote him to death but fifty yards from the works.