Henry fixed the trooper with his gaze. He understood the sentiment, but still it bothered him, even though he knew the man was right.
Without comment, Henry turned and walked back toward the small, whitewashed house.
"Henry, what do you think?" Warren asked, falling in by his side.
"I think Longstreet is flanking us, that's what I think."
"What's in front of us then?" and Warren nodded toward the sound of gunfire.
"I don't know, but I'm willing lo bet it's a diversion," Henry offered. "We've only seen what appears to be one division of infantry over there, just a couple of batteries, no massed battalions of guns, so where the hell is the rest of Lee's army? It's either hidden behind the seminary or it's marching to the south.
"You and I rode that ground around Westminster yesterday morning, along Pipe Creek."
Yesterday morning? God, was it really just a day ago?
"It's damn good ground, Henry. Damn good. High land, open fields of fire for anyone dug in along the south bank, and Westminster as the primary base directly behind it. My God, if Longstreet seizes that, he'll cut us off from the railroad and our supplies and be between us and Washington."
As they walked back to the house, couriers were already dashing off, heading to the various corps headquarters to fetch the generals in.
Hancock was out on the porch, face red; He caught Henry's eye. "We wait," Hancock snarled. "Goddamn it, we wait"
Henry, unable to believe what Hancock was saying, walked into the small, whitewashed house. Meade was leaning over the map table, fist balled up, Butterfield by his side. The room was boiling hot It gave Henry a claustrophobic feeling. Meade looked up with a cold eye. '"Well?" Meade snapped.
"I didn't say anything, sir."
"But you're thinking it."
That trooper, I talked with him outside. General, he's a good soldier, been in the army since the start of the war and not some naive kid straight from the farm. And Buford is a damn good cavalryman. If John is telling us Longstreet is on our flank, we'd better believe him."
Meade sighed. Stepping back from the table, he picked up a tin cup of coffee and sipped on it, turning to look at the map of southern Pennsylvania and northern Maryland pinned to the wall.
Warren came in and stood silently by Henry's side.
"You two surveyed that Pipe Creek line, didn't you?"
"Yes sir, we did," Warren replied. "An army on defense would have a huge advantage at Pipe Creek and an especially big advantage if they were defending the south side of that valley. If Pete Longstreet slides into that position, he'll be astride our line of communications."
Meade said nothing for a moment, the room silent except for the annoying buzz of horseflies, and the distant boom of artillery coming from the right flank.
"Stuart is on our right with at least a division of infantry, maybe more. You can see him out there from the top of the cemetery. Reb infantry and artillery are deployed from the seminary clear down to opposite the ridge in our center, and there're still Reb skirmishers in the town. What the hell is that?"
"Diversion," Warren replied.
Meade finally looked back at the two. For a moment the combative, dyspeptic look was gone, replaced by an infinite weariness. Henry knew that Meade had not had a moment's sleep since yesterday, had only been in command of this army for five days. It was one thing to command a corps, to receive the orders to take or hold a position; it was an entirely different game to make those orders, orders upon which the fate of this army and the Republic might hang.
"At least send a division down there," Warren said softly. "Fifth Corps is astride the road back to Taneytown. Get a division on the road now, and they can be in Taneytown before dark. If Buford is indeed holding Longstreet at Monocacy Creek, the division can reinforce. If Longstreet is into the town, it will stall his advance. I'll go down with them and send back a report."
Meade did not reply, attention focused back on the map.
'Turning this army around; marching it south, will be a bloody nightmare."
He paused for a moment
"John reported contact with two brigades only. He surmised that Longstreet was behind the attack, but he didn't see it. It could be a diversion. Lee hit us hard last night and we gave him a bloody nose. Maybe he thinks he can't push us off this ground, so he's trying to scare us off instead. We start marching south, then he hits us, storming out from behind that ridge behind the town with us strung out on the roads. It could be that you know."
Warren nodded in agreement "But I don't think it is."
"Listen to me," Meade said coldly, "it's fine for all of you to guess, to think, but if I make one mistake, just one goddamn mistake, I can lose this war."
Don't make the right decision, and we can lose this war as well, Henry thought
"A division," Meade finally said, "Fifth Corps. Crawford's men are rested. Get them on the road, Warren. You go with them. Henry, detach a couple of batteries from the reserve and send them along."
Warren was out the door, in seconds.
Meade caught Henry's eye.
"You want me to go with them?" Henry asked. "If it's a fight for Taneytown, I should scout out the artillery positions."
Meade hesitated.
"My job here is done for the moment All our guns are in position. I've surveyed the line from one end to the other twice. If we are going to shift south, I need to be down there."
"Go."
Henry followed Warren out the door, calling for a horse.
Even as he mounted, the sound of guns, again from the right, thundered. Ignoring them, he spurred onto the road, orderly following, racing to catch up to Warren, who was already off at a gallop.
4:30 PM, JULY 2,1863 GETTYSBURG-HERR'S RIDGE
General Lee reined in, turning to look back toward the seminary on the ridge to the east. The ground before it was still littered with dead Union soldiers and horses. It was a grim sight, the air thick with that sickly, cloying scent
He pulled out his pocket watch… four-thirty. If we had stayed here, it would be happening now, hitting them on both flanks, the wooded hill next to the cemetery, the place the locals called the Round Tops on the other flank. He had observed the strange movement down on the flank at noon, an entire Union corps advancing, and it had caused a heart-stopping moment He had ordered a division from Hill's corps off the line of march, deploying them out in response behind the crest next to the tavern. And then, strangely, the movement had stopped, and they had turned about and marched back to the Round Tops.
Curious, some confusion in orders most likely. It had been a tempting moment though. If that corps, a scout reported it to be the Third, had stayed there, it would have been vulnerable on its left
But no, this was no longer the place. That decision had already been made.
A deep rumbling, Stuart's light artillery continuing their demonstration to the flank of the wooded hill, hopefully fixing the attention of the Union forces. Doctrine always was to have cavalry securing the flank along the intended line of advance. One of Ewell's divisions was still deployed in the open ground north of town, plainly visible, his other two divisions occupying the seminary and the ridge to the south, giving every indication possible that they were preparing to attack. Once darkness settled, they'd pull out, attempting to reach Fairfield before falling out to rest for several hours.
Pickett, who was still on the far side of the mountains, would move, along with the supply wagons, pulling back down the main road from Chambersburg to Greencastle. From there Pickett was to advance over the mountain and come into Emmitsburg, to fall in on the rear of Ewell tomorrow morning.