'It was burning during the night; you could see the flames!" a young boy shouted.
"Is that Westminster?" and this time he was a bit more insistent focused on a middle-aged woman wearing a plain dress of dark gray.
"Yes, sir. It's Westminster."
"The sound of gunfire, how long has that been going on?" "All night long. A couple of big explosions and then the fire. Just about an hour ago, it started getting louder." "How far is it to the town?"
"About four miles, maybe five." Winfield looked over at the lieutenant 'Think you can get through?"
"Well, sir, that does depend on whether the Rebs are to the north side of the town or not"
"Supposedly General Haupt is down there in command. I want him to know we're coming up."
"Look! Is them Rebs?" the boy shouted, pointing off to the west
The lieutenant turned in his saddle. Hancock looked to where the boy was pointing.
A small troop was cutting across a field about half a mile away.
"That's Grandpa on the white horse!" the boy cried.
Hancock looked back over at the woman. She said nothing, but lowered her eyes.
"Your granddaddy with the rebel army, son?" Hancock asked.
"Sure is! My pa and all my uncles joined the army a year ago. My grandpa went out to warn them last night. He said you Yankees were going to get whipped. General Stuart himself visited our house, and Grandpa went to fetch him back along with the whole rebel army."
The woman looked back up, eyes cold, her arms going protectively around her grandson, pulling him in tight against her side.
"Madam, you and your boy have nothing to fear from me," Winfield said coolly, almost insulted by her reaction.
"It's Rebs, sir," the lieutenant announced. "Looks like some staff, a few troopers."
The approaching group had obviously spotted them, slowed, and were spreading out He caught a glint of reflected sunlight someone with field glasses raised.
Winfield took out his own field glasses and raised them, focusing.
The rebel officer with field glasses raised slowly lowered them.
"Longstreet" Winfield whispered. 'It's Pete Longstreet"
"Want to try for them, sir?" the lieutenant asked "We've got about the same numbers."
He stayed focused on Pete. Several of the troopers with him had revolvers and carbines drawn.
Now that would be something, wouldn't it? Hancock thought. Two generals charge each other and have it out, like princes of old jousting in front of their armies. Certainly would make the cover of Harpers' Weekly. The thought almost had a romantic appeal.
He chuckled sadly and shook his head
"Those days are gone forever, Lieutenant They'd drop half of us before we got across that field. Your dreams of a cavalry charge and dueling knights are long finished."
He lowered his glasses for a moment and looked over at the lieutenant who was obviously upset by the put-down of the cavalry.
"No offense, son. Several of them boys have carbines. If I was Pete, I'd just pull back and lead us into them woods. For all we know, a whole brigade of Reb infantry is in there. Then where would we be? Dead or on our way to Libby Prison."
"Yes, sir."
He raised his glasses again. Pete's glasses were up as well. Unable to resist the impulse, Hancock waved and a second later Pete responded with a wave.
"Damn war," Hancock sighed and he lowered his glasses, putting them back in their case.
"You're right about the infantry in the woods, General," the lieutenant announced in a whisper and pointed
A hill beyond where Longstreet was, a mile or so farther back, a dark smudge was moving, a column of infantry.
"Damn all to hell!" Hancock snapped. He looked over at the woman, realizing he was swearing in front of a female, but he didn't offer an apology.
The rumble of gunfire from the town was increasing. Suddenly there was a deep rolling boom and a second later a spreading cloud of smoke appeared beyond the hills.
"Something blew," one of the troopers whispered "and it was damn big."
"They're taking the town," Hancock sighed. "Still want me to try and get through?" the lieutenant asked.
What good would it do now? Winfield thought Tell them we're too late? Tell Washington the army was now cut off? "No, son, stay with me."
"Then I advise, sir, that we pull back to the other side of the creek. "I've got only ten men, but we could give them a fuss if they try and come over the bridge."
"He won't come over the bridge."
"Sir?"
"That's General Longstreet Lieutenant He'll dig in right here, right where we are standing. And then it will be we who will have to come back over that bridge.
"He's got the good ground now."
Winfield turned his mount and looked down at the woman and boy. "My compliments to your husband, madam. He guided General Longstreet well this day."
She said nothing, her arms still around her grandson.
"Remember this day, son. When you're an old man, you can tell your grandchildren about it Now take care of your grandmother."
He looked back at the woman. "I advise that you leave your home."
"Why? Are you going to burn us out?" she asked defiantly.
"No, madam. We don't do that at least not yet You're going to be in the middle of a battlefield though before too long, and it's going to get very hot around here."
He started back down the road and turned to the young lieutenant "Ride like hell, Lieutenant Get back up to my corps and tell them to move on the double. We are now in a race with Longstreet."
The boy galloped off. Winfield looked back one last time at Longstreet and waved. Spurring his mount General Hancock headed back across the bridge.
7:15 AM, JULY 3 UNION MILLS
Pete watched as Hancock disappeared around the bend in the road.
"My family, sir, I'd like to get to them," Shriver said, for die first time showing real fear.
"Don't rush. Let them get back across the river."
"My family is in jeopardy, sir. Do something. I've helped you; now do something."
"That was General Hancock, Mr. Shriver. And I can assure you, sir, he is a gentleman."
Pete fell silent for a moment Yes, so many over there were gentlemen. Reynolds was. So was Buford. Will I be killing Hancock now? How would Armistead, who commanded a brigade in Pickett's division, react to that Armistead talked often of Hancock, their friendship before the war when stationed together out on the coast of California.
Damn war!
Shriver was still obviously concerned.
"Sir, General Hancock would lay down his life to protect your wife and family, even knowing the invaluable service you've just given us this day. So please relax. Let's wait for our infantry support to come up, and then we'll go forward."
"Are you certain?"
Pete looked over at the man, and the civilian fell silent and lowered his head. "My apologies, General."
"None needed. You don't know the army, our old army. We trained together at West Point and we live by the code of honor taught there. We might be fighting against each other now, but we still live by that code."
"Look at that place!" Alexander exclaimed, interrupting the two.
Pete turned his attention back to the task at hand. Alexander was pointing to the north.
"Looks like those hills slope down nicely to the creek.
Ground on the far side might be a bit higher, but far enough back and not too much higher to give them an advantage if we dig in first."