- Joined
- Aug 27, 2011
- Location
- Central Massachusetts
Medal of Honor recipient, Capt. George N. Bliss, Troop C, First Rhode Island Cavalry. His citation reads:
While in command of the provost guard in the village, he saw the Union lines returning before the attack of a greatly superior force of the enemy, mustered his guard, and, without orders, joined in the defense and charged the enemy without support. He received three saber wounds, his horse was shot, and he was taken prisoner.
The date was Sept. 28, 1864, during the Battle of Waynesborough, Va. His own description of the incident was rather more detailed:
Looking back, I saw my men coming on with a splendid squadron front; looking forward, I saw the enemy in column of fours, turning to retreat. The ground was down hill towards the enemy, and I had never seen a better opportunity for a sabre charge, and as the squadron neared me, I shouted, "Come on boys, they are running," and jumping my horse over the low barricade, dashed in among the rebels, only to find myself making the attack single-handed. I had ridden past a dozen of the enemy before I discovered my desperate situation. They were retreating in a loose column of fours, and as I rode in among them there were three files on my left hand and one on my right. I felt that death was certain; and, like a lightning flash, my whole life seemed to pass in review before me closing with the thought, "and this is the end."
There was but one chance; fifty men behind me were shouting, "Kill that d Yankee." To turn among them and retrace my steps was impossible; my horse was swift, and I thought if I could keep on until I came to a side street, I might dash into that, and, by making a circle, reach our lines. As I rode I kept my sabre swinging, striking six blows, right and left. Two of the enemy escaped by dodging their heads, but I succeeded in wounding four of them ... The first side street reached was on the left. Keeping my head close to my horse's neck, I then broke through the three files on my left, and entered the side street in safety, fully twenty yards from the nearest horseman. For a moment I thought I was safe, when suddenly a bullet, doubtless intended for me,, struck my gallant steed and he staggered under the shock. With rein and spur I urged him on, but it was in vain; he fell with a plunge that left me lying upon the ground.
Before I could rise two of the enemy reined in their horses by me, and leaning over in their saddles struck at me, one with a carbine and the other with a sabre. I could parry but one, and with my sabre stopping the crushing blow from the carbine at the same instant that the sabre gave me a cut across the forehead. I at once rose to my feet and said to the soldier who had wounded me, "For God's sake do kill a prisoner." "Surrender then he said; to which I replied, "I do surrender." He demanded my sword and pistol which I “gave him, and had scarcely done so when I was struck on the back with such a force as to thrust me two steps forward. Upon turning to discover the cause of this assault I found that a soldier had ridden upon the trot and stabbed me with his sabre, which would have passed entirely through my body but for the fact that in his ignorance of the proper use of the weapon he had failed to make the half-turn of the wrist necessary to give the sabre smooth entrance between the ribs. I saw also at this moment another soldier taking aim at me with a revolver. There was only one chance left me; I called for protection as a Freemason, and Capt. Henry C. Lee, the acting adjutant-general of the enemy's force, at once came to my assistance, ordered a soldier to take me to the rear and see that my wounds were dressed.
There was but one chance; fifty men behind me were shouting, "Kill that d Yankee." To turn among them and retrace my steps was impossible; my horse was swift, and I thought if I could keep on until I came to a side street, I might dash into that, and, by making a circle, reach our lines. As I rode I kept my sabre swinging, striking six blows, right and left. Two of the enemy escaped by dodging their heads, but I succeeded in wounding four of them ... The first side street reached was on the left. Keeping my head close to my horse's neck, I then broke through the three files on my left, and entered the side street in safety, fully twenty yards from the nearest horseman. For a moment I thought I was safe, when suddenly a bullet, doubtless intended for me,, struck my gallant steed and he staggered under the shock. With rein and spur I urged him on, but it was in vain; he fell with a plunge that left me lying upon the ground.
Before I could rise two of the enemy reined in their horses by me, and leaning over in their saddles struck at me, one with a carbine and the other with a sabre. I could parry but one, and with my sabre stopping the crushing blow from the carbine at the same instant that the sabre gave me a cut across the forehead. I at once rose to my feet and said to the soldier who had wounded me, "For God's sake do kill a prisoner." "Surrender then he said; to which I replied, "I do surrender." He demanded my sword and pistol which I “gave him, and had scarcely done so when I was struck on the back with such a force as to thrust me two steps forward. Upon turning to discover the cause of this assault I found that a soldier had ridden upon the trot and stabbed me with his sabre, which would have passed entirely through my body but for the fact that in his ignorance of the proper use of the weapon he had failed to make the half-turn of the wrist necessary to give the sabre smooth entrance between the ribs. I saw also at this moment another soldier taking aim at me with a revolver. There was only one chance left me; I called for protection as a Freemason, and Capt. Henry C. Lee, the acting adjutant-general of the enemy's force, at once came to my assistance, ordered a soldier to take me to the rear and see that my wounds were dressed.
Yet another man saved by his Masonic ties. Bliss was treated very well, indeed. Taken to a Confederate officers’ hospital, he was given free run of the establishment, solely on his word of honor not to try to escape (he had one guard assigned to keep an eye on him, who he once woke up and warned him of the penalty for sleeping on duty).
Eventually, his wounds healed, Bliss was sent to Libby Prison in Richmond, and, on Feb. 5, 1865, exchanged. Discharged on May 15, George Bliss settled in East Providence. He remained active in the R.I. State Militia, was a lawyer, and judge. He died at the age of 91, on 29 August, 1928.
But, there is a fascinating postscript to this story, which I will tell in the next post.