"McLaws believed the report and sent it by fast rider back to me. He's asking for orders, afraid that he'll get tangled into a fight in Westminster. He reports thousands of troops there, including cavalry and some heavy artillery. He's concerned that he'll get engaged, and then Hancock will hit on the flank."
Pete shook his head.
"Hancock won't be there until well after dawn, if at all."
"We must assume they are stirring, General Longstreet. That had to be expected all along, and in fact we want them to."
"Yes, sir, once we've seized a good position."
'I want you to go up and straighten things out yourself."
"Yes,sir."
"McLaws also reports a vast supply train in Westminster. I want that seized. Then we can leave our wagon trains west of the mountains. We can send them back as far as Falling. Waters on the Potomac River for safety. That will free us up to move much more quickly. We will defeat the Union army using their own supplies."
'I’ll leave at once."
"And another thing, General."
"Sir?"
'Talk to this civilian closely. He claims to know the area. The report is that Meade was considering a defensive line along this creek," and again Lee pointed at the map. "Pipe Creek is its name. Several of my staff talked with sympathizers in town here, and they said the same thing, that there were rumors, or they had overheard conversations, that Meade wanted to draw us down here to fight If that is true, that meant he must have picked out a good position."
As he spoke, Lee traced out the creek that flowed north of Westminster and then curved south, just to the east of Taneytown.
"Apparently Meade sent Warren and Henry Hunt to survey it just before things started at Gettysburg. Our supposed friend stated that he watched Warren sketching a map and overheard a statement by Hunt talking about good fields of fire."
Pete nodded. The chief topographical engineer for the army and head of artillery surveying a defensive line? Both of those men knew ground. Given the right spot Hunt was usually brilliant with gun deployment and Pete had sensed his hand in the defense of that accursed Cemetery Hill only two days ago. Any ground they liked was worth looking into.
"I'll push McLaws in, then start moving people here," and Pete traced his finger over the map toward Union Mills. "I'll try and take a look myself, and men send a message back if this is the defensive line we want. What reinforcements can I expect?"
"I'm keeping Hood here," Lee announced. "He's
deployed north of town here, and there's been some skirmishing reported. It looks like Fifth Corps is approaching."
'That splits my command to pieces," Pete said. "McLaws on the right flank, Hood here in the center, and Pickett still twenty or more miles away."
"I know, but it can't be helped. I'm passing Hill's corps up to you. You will take direct command. I've already sent an order to that effect. Hill is too sick to continue."
"The entire corps?"
"Yes, that will give you at least four divisions to secure the right I think Meade will make his main thrust coming down the road to Baltimore. It's the shortest route back to their lines around Washington. They will look to turn our flank there, then slip around and into position. We must not allow that to happen.
"Ewell will file in here by midday, though his men will not be in shape to fight until rested, having marched all night If possible, I will forward up additional troops from him as well. I'll be in direct control here for now."
Pete looked back down at the map. Things were getting a little unorthodox. All three corps were jumbled up and split apart. The last time they had tried a maneuver of this scale was Second Manassas, and both corps had remained intact
What Lee was suggesting here was an ad hoc division of command, Lee directly controlling the center and left and Longstreet the right.
"A long front ten miles or more between Taneytown and Westminster," Longstreet offered.
"I know. Their response will be toward one flank or the other. If aggressive, they'll try and cut us in half here. If more concerned about regaining their base of supplies and protecting Washington, it will be toward Westminster. I suspect it will be the latter. Take that town; get Hill's men in position; see if that civilian's report is accurate.
"While you attend to that I'll have people out surveying the land in between along the south side of this creek.
"If all is secure here, I'll pass Ewell's command down to you as well, or at least give you Pickett by the end of the day. If their main assault comes in this direction,! want you to hold Westminster nevertheless, and I'll send down what I can."
Pete said nothing for a moment and just studied the map. The first hard stage of marching was over. Now it was time to secure the base and then find a good place to hold. If Warren and Hunt had been out exploring this ground, they had found it and would know it He had to get it first
Saluting, Pete left the room and then paused to look back. Lee was still leaning over the map. He caught Taylor's eye. "Get him to sleep," Pete whispered, almost mouthing the words, and Taylor nodded.
Alexander was out in the corridor, holding Pete's boots and a cup of coffee. "Let me help you get these on, sir."
Pete nodded his thanks and sat down, cradling the china cup filled to the brim with the warm brew as Alexander knelt to help him.
"Guess I'm coming with you?" Alexander asked hopefully.
'That you are, young sir. Get outside and round up the rest of the staff; they're going too. I want to move within ten minutes."
Alexander grinned. "I've already called to have our horses saddled."
At forty-two, Pete felt very old. Sighing, he stood up and walked out the door. The horizon to the east revealed the first faint glimmer of dawn of July 3,1863.
5:45 AM, JULY 3,1863 WESTMINSTER
Never had he seen such wild insanity. The main street of Westminster was packed solid with hundreds of wagons, tangled together so tightly that nothing could move. Several wagons were upended, mules still tangled up in their harnesses frantically kicking at each other in their desperate struggle to escape. Most of the wagons were abandoned, drivers having run off, joining in the uncontrollable-stampede heading east
He edged his mount along the narrow sidewalk, his horse nervously stepping over a body sprawled in front of a tavern that had been looted. The man had been shot in the back, a broken bottle of whiskey by his side. A civilian stood in the doorway, an old shotgun cradled in his arms.
Haupt nodded and said nothing. The civilian ignored him.
All order, all control had broken down during the night. How and why it had started he still didn't know. Suddenly hundreds of wagons had begun jockeying to get on the Baltimore Pike, drivers screaming that the Rebs were attacking. He had tried to send a scraped-up detail of men to stem the tide; but it was far too much, and most of them had simply joined the stampede.
Then the wagons still parked to the west side of the town had come pouring in, a wagon loaded with cartridge rounds upending and igniting. The thousands of rounds going off had truly enhanced the terror, flames leaping to a second wagon loaded with artillery shells and several hundred pounds of powder. That had exploded in a massive fireball. Several houses had caught on fire and burned, casting a lurid light on the mad scene.
The houses were still smoldering, a detail of civilians wearily carrying buckets to keep it from spreading. They looked at him coldly as he rode past.
In the early light of dawn, he surveyed the madness: the carnage, burned-out wagons, dead animals, another dead man, this one a cavalry trooper.