Carefully making his observations, he passed from point to point up and down the intrenchment lines, out to the Richmond pike, and beyond to the Petersburg railroad. Concealing himself during the day, he scouted again on the second night. The defences of the enemy were noted, with the general disposition and number of the troops. Long after this he wrote, "[I was] in possession of such valuable information that if I could only have got back with it, all the time, treasure, and blood which have been spent before Petersburg would have been spared. It could have been captured then with very small loss." But the attempt to regain the Union lines must be postponed until the following night, now that the dawn of the second day found him far from his starting point; so, seeking a secluded spot in the forest, near Chester Station, he concealed himself in its cover, and was soon fast asleep.
THE CAPTURE.—THE DUNGEON.—THE GALLOWS.
Awaking after a few hours, he heard the unexpected murmur of voices near him. A change of position had been made by some of the troops, and he was surrounded by the enemy. He hardly moved before he was discovered.
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"A sharp clang, a steel clang! And terror in the sound; For the sentry, falcon-eyed, In the camp a spy hath found: With a sharp clang, a steel clang, The patriot is bound." |
As a prisoner he was hurried before Brig.-Gen. Johnson, and by him sent forward to Gen. Beauregard's headquarters. The order to him from Gen. Butler, being found on his person, gave color to the charge that he was an authorized spy; and the first proposition was to hang him at once to a tree. Indeed, he was told that his body should swing before sundown. But from some reason it was decided to try him by formal court-martial; and he was sent to Petersburg, where he was shut in a vile hole, underneath the jail, "a low, filthy dungeon," as he described it, "dark, gloomy, and crawling with vermin." Those who have never been prisoners of war under special charges, in the gloom of solitary confinement, with the staring gallows threatened, cannot fully realize the terribleness of Henry Manning's struggle of mind during that first night in the Petersburg dungeon. Earnestly did he call on God for strength, that, if he must yield his young life thus and then, he might be faithful even unto such a death. And God sustained him.
GLOOM OF THE STOCKADE AND JAIL.
"I will lift up mine eyes to the hills."
Manning was sent to Georgia for trial. By mistake he was carried with a party to Andersonville, and turned into that place of yet untold horrors; but thither, after seven days, he was tracked out by the authorities, and to them turned over by the brutal Capt. Wirz, who, at parting, shook his clenched fist in his face, and cursed him vehemently as "one of Butler's spies," disgracing that foul stockade by his temporary presence. Thence to Macon, he was shut in a felon's cell in the common jail. There the days dragged heavily, while he lacked air, exercise, fitting food, hope. He pined away until it seemed as if he could not live. "I heard it whispered around, many a time," he wrote afterwards, "'Poor Manning! What a pity that he must die in such a place as this. Poor boy! he's past recovery.'" It was while shut in there, anticipating trial, conviction, death, that Manning cast himself before the Lord, and cried mightily for help. On his knees, behind the grated door of his hope-barred cell, he pleaded that he might yet have life and again find liberty. Although in intense and agonized earnestness, he yet prayed in trustful submission to God's righteous will; and, in no mere selfish love of ease and safety, solemnly he promised there that if his life was spared, it should be given wholly and heartily to the service of Jesus. In relating this incident after his release, he added artlessly, "I told God that if my life was spared, I should know He did it, for there was no other hope for me, then." That prayer and that vow seemed to be favorably heard of God. An alarm from an anticipated attack startled the authorities at Macon; the provost-marshal of the post was ordered on active duty; in the transfer of authorities, the charges against Manning were lost, and in consequence his court-martial trial did not take place. But his personal trials were by no means at an end. His tedious prison-life had barely commenced.
ESCAPE AND RECAPTURE.—TORN BY BLOOD-HOUNDS.