At two o’clock on the afternoon of May 26, 1736, the battle of Ackia was opened by Chevalier Noyan, who, as his troops advanced within carbine shot of the fort, could easily see English officers within the palisades directing the defense.

The French were moving to the attack in the open, without personal shields, which were too heavy to be brought so great a distance, and they had to resort to portable breastworks made of heavy ropes, closely woven together in strips of about four feet in width and about twenty feet in length. This wide strip of roping had to be borne at either end by strong men, who were of course exposed, while the firing line was somewhat protected. These mantelets, for such the movable fortifications were called, were carried by negroes, whom the French forced into this perilous service. A broadside of musketry was opened on the fort, in response to which the garrison vigorously replied, and among the casualties was that of killing one of the negroes, while another was wounded, whereupon every black man who was supporting the mantelets threw them down and fled the field. Without a waver in their line, the French pressed on to the attack.

The grenadiers led the advance and moved on into the outside village. The battle was now on in earnest, and one of the ablest of the French commanders, Chevalier de Contre Coeur, was killed, together with a number of grenadiers, but the fortified cabins were taken without, as well as some smaller ones, to the latter of which fire was applied. This quick advantage gained, led to an enthusiastic determination to carry the fort by assault. Noyan, at the head of his troops, saw the advantage and was ready to lead the charge. With sword upraised, he commanded the advance, but on looking back he found that all the troops, save a mere handful, had fled back to the fortified cabins, leaving the officers. The enemy taking advantage of this juncture, fired more vigorously still, and another of the brave commanders, Captain DeLusser, the same who commanded at Fort Tombecke, fell. The officers bringing up the rear urged, besought, exhorted the troops who had sought shelter in the cabins to rejoin their officers, but to no purpose. They were promised the reward of promotion, but that did not avail. Finally the officers sought to appeal to their pride by proposing to take such as would follow and themselves make the assault, to all of which the troops were agreed, but they did not propose to face again the galling fire of the Chickasaws. Suiting the action to the word, the officers proceeded to the assault, for which they paid severely, for every prominent leader was shot down wounded—Noyan, Grondel, Montburn and De Velles. Though bleeding and suffering, Noyan supported himself and, much exposed, held his ground with a remnant of troops. Hoping to elicit those from the cabins, he ordered an aide to request the secreted troops to come to his rescue, as he was wounded. As the officer turned to obey, he was shot dead.

The assault had been carried to within a short distance of the main walls where the officers lay bleeding from their wounds, the foremost of whom was the gallant Grondel. A number of Indian warriors issued from the fort to scalp him, on observing which a sergeant with four men rushed to his rescue, drove the Indians back into the fort, and raised his body to bear it off the field. Just as they started, every rescuer was killed. A stalwart Frenchman named Regnisse, seeing what had happened, dashed toward the body alone, under a galling fire, lifted the wounded man to his back and bore him off, though not without the receipt of another wound by Grondel.

Meanwhile, where were the courageous Choctaws who were so eager for the fray and who were the chief cause of bringing on the fight? While the French were exposed to a raking fire, these six hundred painted warriors remained at a safe distance on the plain, giving frequent vent to shouting and shrieking and yelling, interspersed now and then with dancing, and shooting into the air. This was the utmost of the service rendered by the Choctaw allies.

Though with a courageous few, Noyan had come under the shadow of the walls of the fort, he could do no more unsupported, and so proceeded to return, in order, to the fortified cabins, where he found his men crouching in fear, when he at once notified Bienville of the peril of the situation. He asked for a detachment to bear off the dead and wounded, and notified the governor that without troops to support him, nothing more could be done to capture the fort.

At this juncture, Bienville saw a demonstration made on the part of the savages in the fort, from an unconjectured quarter, to capture the cabins in which were gathered the men and officers, and made haste to send Beauchamp, with eighty men, to head off the movement, rescue the troops and to bring away the wounded and the dead. Beauchamp moved with speed, turned back the movement, and while many of the dead and wounded were recovered, he could not recover all. In this movement Beauchamp lost a number of men. So hot was the firing from the fort, that he was compelled to leave a number to the barbarity of the Chickasaws.

As Beauchamp was retiring in an orderly way, the Choctaws issued from their camp with much impetuosity and fury, as though they had at last resolved to carry everything before them. Fleet of foot, and filling the air with their wild yelling, they dashed toward the fort, but just then a well-directed fire into their ranks, from the Chickasaws, created a speedy rout, and they fled in every direction.

Had Bienville been able to bring his cannon so far into the interior, he would have demolished the fort in short order, but as it was, everything was against him. Instead of his plans being executed as originally formed, they fell to pieces, step by step, and his defeat was the most signal. Thus ended the campaign against the Chickasaws, the fiercest and most warlike of all the tribes. After all the imposing grandeur at the outset of the campaign it ended in a fiasco. The situation was much graver than Bienville seemed to apprehend. He was in the heart of the enemy’s country, without substantial support. His Choctaw allies had failed him, and in a grave crisis his own men had forsaken him. Nothing would have been easier than for the Chickasaws to cut him off from his boats, and extinguish the entire command, but, themselves unapprised of the conditions, they kept well within the enclosure of the fort. Other difficulties were in store for the unfortunate Bienville.