_The Committee on Foreign Affairs, to whom were referred the (p. 432)
resolutions of the legislature of the State of Maine, declaring that
the heroic conduct of George F. Robinson, late a private in the Eighth
Regiment of Maine Volunteers, in saving the life of Secretary Seward
from the knife of an assassin, at the imminent peril of his own life,
and at the expense of permanent wounds, should receive public
recognition by the Congress of the United States, to the end that his
noble deeds may be known and remembered by the American People, and
that provision may be made for his future welfare such as right and
justice demand, and the generous impulse of a grateful people require,
respectfully submit the following report:_[125]

[Footnote 125: Reported by Mr. Porter Sheldon, of
the Committee on Foreign Affairs.]

That on the 15th day of August, 1863, George F. Robinson enlisted
in the Eighth Regiment of Maine Volunteers. On the 20th day of
May, 1864, at an attack at Bermuda Hundred, made on General
Butler's lines by the rebels, Robinson was wounded very severely
in the leg by a canister shot. He was sent to Douglas Hospital in
this city, where he lay nearly a year undergoing great suffering
from his wound. On the memorable 14th day of April, 1865,
although his wound was not then entirely healed, he was detailed
from the hospital to act as nurse to Mr. Seward, the Secretary of
State, who, it will be remembered, was confined to his bed by
serious injuries--a broken arm and jaw. At 10 o'clock that night
Robinson was on duty in Mr. Seward's room, when the assassin,
Payne, sought that room to murder the feeble, wounded, helpless
Secretary, in pursuance of the great conspiracy which ended with
filling the whole civilized world with horror. The Secretary was
sleeping; the room was darkened. Robinson hearing a disturbance
in the hall opened the door; a flood of light streamed on him
from the hall. On the threshold stood the athletic assassin, a
revolver in one hand and a huge bowie knife in the other. He saw
against the wall the wounded, crazed Assistant Secretary, with
blood pouring from his wound. He caught the gleam of that
terrible knife aimed at his throat; instinctively he struck up at
the assassin's arm to ward off the knife, partially succeeded,
but received