"There, sir," the lieutenant whispered, and he pointed, even as he passed over his field glasses.
There was no need for them though. Clouds of dust were boiling up from a road, most likely the main pike between Taneytown and Emmitsburg. In the fields north of town hundreds of campfires sparkled, troops swarming around them.
Far closer though, not a quarter mile away, a skirmish line of Reb infantry was deployed, advancing toward them.
A flash of gunfire, the report of the rifle echoing even as a bullet hummed overhead.
"Infantry, lots of it" Warren announced.
"As we told you," the lieutenant replied, a bit of a sarcastic edge to his voice.
"Son, we had to see it for ourselves," Warren replied soothingly. "Those were Meade's orders. I never doubted you."
A couple of the troopers escorting them dismounted. Drawing his Sharps carbine, one of the troopers levered up his rear sight, squatted down in the middle of the road, and took careful aim.
‘Not yet," Henry said.
Annoyed, the man looked up at him.
It was getting dark, but the field glasses revealed a lot Troops were marching through the town, visible through side alleys and where the road they were on finally intersected with the main road in the middle of the village. He caught a glimpse of what looked to be a field piece crossing the intersection.
Another bullet snicked past and then another, this one kicking up a plume of dust in the middle of the road, Warren's horse snorting and backing up.
"Damn it sir, they're getting close," the lieutenant announced.
"Open up on them," Henry, replied.
The trooper sitting in the middle of the road fired first followed a few seconds later by several more, one of the men catching Henry's eye, silhouetted by the western twilight, poised in the saddle, horse absolutely still as the man took careful aim, a bright flash of light erupting as he squeezed the trigger. He watched for several seconds, cursed under his breath, and then levered the breech open, reaching into his cartridge box for another round.
"A division at least," Warren said, "and looks like they're continuing east toward Westminster."
"Can't see their colors though," Henry replied. He looked back to the lieutenant.
"You said you were fighting Hood?"
"Yes, sir. We caught a couple of them before we got flanked. It was Hood's division."
"Wonder if that's them in the town?" Warren muttered.
"You want me to go down and ask?" the lieutenant interjected.
Henry looked over at him. The youth wasn't being sarcastic; he was trying to make a joke, and Henry nodded.
"It's more than Hood" Henry offered "The battle with you at the river was mid-afternoon. Take a couple of hours to get everyone reorganized and on the road What's down there now is the next division, pushed through, continuing on. Hood will come up later. Or maybe the next division has already moved on, and that's Hood coming in to occupy Taneytown."
"We're being flanked," Warren interjected. "By God, he's done it to us again. Longstreet's corps, and I'm willing to bet Hill is right behind him. Back at Gettysburg Ewell is just demonstrating to keep our attention. As soon as it gets dark, he'll pull out as well."
"I could have told you three hours ago we were facing the head of their army," the lieutenant offered and this time there was a bitterness to his voice. "Just like yesterday, bur we didn't have Reynolds this time to come in as support Damn, if we'd had the ammunition, a brigade of infantry, and a couple of batteries, we could have held that bridge till hell froze over."
The skirmishing was picking up. A ball slapped dangerously close, passing between Henry and Warren.
Warren turned his horse.
"The line we surveyed yesterday, Henry. Do you think they know about it?"
"If not Longstreet will figure it out real quick. He has a damn good eye for ground."
"I'm figuring the same."
"Lieutenant pull back slowly, keep an eye on things. You've got a division of infantry coming up. They should be approaching in another hour or so. I'll tell them to deploy on the far side of the creek, but there isn't anything they can do tonight. You help them get a feel for things. General Hunt and I are going back to headquarters."
"I got maybe a hundred rounds left for the men with me," the lieutenant replied.
"Then use them wisely" Warren replied.
The two started off, moving at not much more than a steady trot
"Do you think Meade's already moving?" Henry asked. "By God, if they're advancing on Westminster, we've got to get troops in there by dawn."
"Sedgwick just marched his entire corps up from there, thirty miles straight. If he pulled the rest of Fifth off the line while we were coming down here, he just might make it by dawn."
"Do you think he did that?" Warren said nothing.
As they crossed back over the stream, Henry looked again at the dead trooper lying in the shadows. He wondered if someone would finally get around to burying him. Behind them, the lieutenant, with a dozen men and a hundred rounds, slowly gave ground in the opening shots of the battle for Taneytown.
11:00 PM, JULY 2,1863 WESTMINSTER
"Are you certain about this, Major?"
Gen. Herman Haupt commander of the U.S. Military Railroads, looked up at the begrimed officer standing before him. The flickering of the coal oil lamp hanging from the ceiling of the tavern made the cavalryman look deathly pale.
"I'm certain of it, sir. There's Confederate infantry on the road not five miles from here. I saw them with my own eyes. Column of infantry, moving slow but moving, skirmishers deployed forward. I was up in a barn about a hundred yards off the road. We'd pulled in mere to look for some fodder for our horses and rest a bit Next thing I know, the road is swarming with Rebs."
"A brigade, a division, a corps?" "I didn't stay around to count them, sir. I took my men and we got the hell out of there."
Haupt nodded, looking back down at the map traced on a scrap a paper spread out on the bar.
The first word that trouble was brewing had come in just before six, a lone trooper, absolutely panic-stricken, riding down the main street shouting that the Rebs were coming. He had the man arrested, given a drink to calm him down, and the shaken boy claimed that there had been a vicious fight west of Taneytown. Buford was dead, Gamble dead, and the entire division routed.
By eight, more troopers were coming in; enough information forming that Haupt had finally sent a dispatch rider back to Baltimore bearing a report that there had been an action of at least division-level strength. He then called an officers' meeting, which had proven to be chaotic. There was no real system of unified command here, with units from seven different corps assigned to guard duty. He had over ten thousand men here, including the heavy artillery units sent up from Washington, but each of them answered to a different commander, and they were not all that enthusiastic about taking orders from him, an unknown. Several of the regimental commanders openly called for an immediate evacuation. The meeting ended with him ordering them to get their troops ready for a fight and deploy to the west side of town.
Now more and more defeated cavalry troopers were coming in, singly, in small bands, and this major with a hundred or so men.