The men looked at Pete, and he could see they were gazing at him in "that way," the look usually reserved for Lee or for Old Jack.

Longstreet nervously-cleared his throat and walked back out on to the veranda. Fishing in his breast pocket, he pulled out a cigar and struck a Lucifer, puffing the cigar, exhaling sofdy.

The almost full moon was high in the Southern sky. It was a good night, a very good night

"We move starting at four in the morning," Meade repeated, looking up bleary-eyed at Henry and Warren. "But sir, by then they'll be in Westminster." "I just got the latest dispatch from there sent up by Haupt It gives no indication of that other than some cavalry from Buford drifting in, reporting the action at Monocacy Creek."

"And that dispatch was dated three hours ago, about the same time we were in front of Taneytown. A lot can happen in those three hours."

Meade sat back in his chair, taking another sip of coffee. "Sedgwick's men are in no shape to march. They covered damn near thirty-five miles today. The only other unit in reserve is Fifth Corps. I've already dispatched one division; the other two will join them by seven in the morning.

"We're leaving First and Eleventh here. They're fought out anyhow, and besides, there're over five thousand wounded here to cover. And someone has to watch Stuart and Ewell, our own cavalry is in such disarray. That leaves Second, Third, and Twelfth Corps, which I'm sending down the Baltimore Pike toward Westminster, and they have to be pulled off the line and shifted over. Try to do that in the middle of the night, and it will be chaos."

He looked down again at the map. "No, no,, we try to move them now, they'll be exhausted come dawn and not more than five miles on the road anyhow, with twenty more to go. Let them rest; they'll need it"

Henry could almost feel a sense of pity for this man. He knew that something inside was tearing at him, the realization that if he had reacted immediately, when that first courier had come in, an entire corps could already be approaching Westminster, with Fifth Corps hitting Taneytown.

What would history say of those lost six hours? Wasted, wasted on a damn staff meeting that had dragged on for over two hours of bitter arguing. One of Hancock's orderlies had filled him in on it Hancock shouting that they should move now, Sickles arguing that his corps should storm straight across that ridge he had been obsessed with all day, Howard saying it was a trap for them to stay put and Sedgwick so exhausted he had fallen asleep in the corner.

By the end of the meeting, a couple of dozen stragglers from Buford had come in, grim evidence of what was going on to the south. At that point it was already getting dark, and yet in spite of the evidence, Howard kept pointing to Seminary Ridge, the hundreds of campfires flaring to life, and there had been more hesitation.

Finally he had decided, at nine, that the army would move, its primary axis dropping back on Westminster, with a secondary thrust toward Taneytown, but to do so at first light Seventy-five thousand men, hundreds of wagons, over two hundred artillery pieces were concentrated on just a few square miles of ground. Moving that in the dark would be madness; starting it six hours ago, it could have been done.

And those six hours were gone forever, wasted, and Meade knew it

"If they take Westminster, we're cut off from Washington," Meade whispered. "They'll go insane down there. Halleck, Stanton, the president all of them will be screaming for me to attack."

"Lee won't turn on Washington," Warren offered, "not with us in his rear. He'll have to face us."

''Will he?"

"He wouldn't dare make that move. We've still got over twenty thousand troops garrisoned in Washington behind the heaviest fortification system in the world. He'd never go up against that not with us coming down behind him."

"So he'll dig in along Westminster?'' Meade asked.

The tone caught Henry off guard. He was not used to Meade asking for advice, for support He was obviously rattled, ready to drop with exhaustion, suddenly frightened by the prospect of all that was unfolding. It frightened Henry. That kind of mood is contagious. It starts with the commander, and then spreads like a plague down the line. It was like that at Chancellorsville and at Second Manassas, the last hours when Pope fell into a panic.

"It's a tough position," Henry offered. "There're two things to hope for though."

"And that is?"

"Get there fast sir. They most likely will attack Westminster by dawn."

Meade lowered his head.

"Herman Haupt is in command down there," Warren offered. "He's got somewhere around ten thousand men. He might very well put up a hell of a fight If he does and the lead column pushes hard enough, it can still be retrieved."

"Put Hancock in the lead," Henry offered. "His troops are almost astride the Baltimore Road. Get them moving now."

"That will leave the center open," Meade replied.

"It's no longer the center," Warren responded forcefully. "Put Hancock on the road now, then Sickles as planned, followed by Twelfth Corps; Sixth in reserve ready to move either toward Westminster or Taneytown. The Fifth hits Taneytown, perhaps severing their line of advance."

"And if Haupt can't hold Westminster?''

"The second hope," Henry interjected, "is that if they have taken Westminster, it will most likely only be a division at most. They'll be exhausted, troops strung out from Emmitsburg to Westminster, with die head at Westminster. They might not have time to survey the ground up around Pipe Creek. Hancock forces the creek and deploys. We cut off their head at Westminster. We'll then be astride our base of supplies, with Lee strung out We then start pushing west, rolling him up, and meeting the Fifth Corps in Taneytown."

"You think we can do that?"

Meade was indeed exhausted, Henry realized. No sleep. for two days, suddenly overwhelmed by the full realization that Lee had again done the unexpected. He needed sleep.

I do too, Henry thought I can barely stand.

Worn down and demoralized, Meade could only nod.

"Fine then. All right send someone up to Hancock. It's almost midnight now. Tell him I want his corps to quietly pack it up, to start moving at two in the morning. Tell Howard to then detach a brigade, push them down to fill in along Hancock's line."

Warren and Hunt looked at each other. They'd won their point

"Get some sleep, sir," Warren offered.

There was no need to give the advice though. Meade's head was resting on the table. He was out

The two stepped out onto the porch and spotted a young orderly sitting on the steps. It was Meade's son, new to the staff.

"Your father," Henry said softly, "get him into bed and make sure he gets at least four hours' rest"

The boy, who had been dozing, came awake, nodded, and went inside.

Henry pulled out his watch. By the light of the moon, he could read it… midnight

"I'll take the orders up to Hancock," Warren offered. "Get some sleep, Henry. Tomorrow's going to be a tough day."

Henry didn't need to be told. He stepped off the porch. His orderly had unsaddled Henry's horse and spread out a blanket the saddle as a pillow.

Henry nodded his thanks and collapsed on the ground.

The last minutes of July 2,1863, ticked down for Henry; and in a few minutes he was fast asleep, falling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.