The two looked over at him. There was a flicker of a smile on Butterfield's face.

Meade exhaled noisily and nodded.

Sickles, still fuming, leaned back against the pew across from Meade.

"General Sickles, by the time your corps marched from here down to Taneytown, it will be mid to late afternoon," Henry said. "If your assumption is correct, that Ewell is on the road, it won't matter by then; they'll have moved down to here."

He looked up at Sickles as he spoke, but there was no response. Yet again, the irony of it Henry thought Sickles was right yesterday morning, even yesterday afternoon when he pressed to move straight down on Emmitsburg or support Sykes toward Taneytown. But that was too late now. Meade wanted the concentration on Westminster, a natural instinct, hoping to get the bulk of his troops there before Lee. It was obvious, though, that Meade had just lost the race, maybe by not more than an hour or two, but lost it all the same. That would haunt him. Sickles was positioning himself to be the ghost who did the haunting.

The question now, however, was what to do. By the end of the day, Meade could bring four corps into position across from Union Mills. If First Corps came down from Gettysburg, it'd be up to five corps. Then what?

Meade, as if reading Henry's mind, looked back down at the map. "Hunt, you're the only one here who's seen the entire line along Pipe Creek."

"It's a natural defensive position," Henry said, tracing the position out on the map.

"The area around Union Mills has an open ridge rising up a hundred and fifty feet or more from the flat, open land flanking the stream. Our side is slightly higher, which could give us a small advantage with artillery.

"Their right flank is guarded by a millpond and a very steep slope, which turns to the south, offering a natural anchor point"

"What about their left flank at Union Mills?" Butterfield asked. "Maybe we can go around them?" Meade shook his head.

"We shift to the right toward Fifth Corps, that takes us even farther away from Washington. It's Washington, damn it. We must reestablish contact with it"

"Then shifting to the left?" Butterfield offered.

"The roads just don't work for us," Henry replied. "There's a high ridge they can deploy along for half a dozen miles to the east. It'll take another day to even try to reposition to the left. In turn, that will draw the rebel army straight into Baltimore, which will cut Washington off by rail and telegraph from the North."

"It might already be cut" Butterfield said.

Meade shook his head.

"Not yet. Lee is concentrating. He knows he can't turn and move on Washington or Baltimore with us at his back."

The room was silent for a moment

"What about waiting him out?" Butterfield offered.

"We can't" Meade replied bitterly. "They have the supplies now, and we don't. In three to five days, we'll be near starving. The only reserve ammunition we have is what we brought up with us to Gettysburg; Lee now has the rest. We can't disperse with Lee there and with that damn Stuart wandering around behind us. Lee has the line, and he's begging us to attack.

"And Washington, they'll all be screaming bloody murder. I have to attack; I have to! Once we bring the four corps on this road into line we go in. That will be nearly fifty thousand men, supported by all of Hunt's guns, two hundred pieces. One hard assault and I think we can batter our way through. We take Westminster back, re-establish contact with Washington, and Lee will be forced then to either attack us or withdraw."

Henry was silent looking at the map. A momentum was developing, like a train that had lost its breaks and was rolling downhill. The army was moving south; Lee was in the way. There was no way to turn it around yet again, to perhaps fall back on Harrisburg. Do that and every anti-administration paper in the country would be screaming about cowardice and defeat Stanton would hang Meade. Then who would get the army? Sedgwick, who was notorious for being slow, maybe even Sickles as a compromise to his Democratic party cronies?

Meade looked up wearily at Henry. "Go down to Union Mills. You already know the ground. Start picking out your positions. I want the artillery concentrated the way you keep talking about"

Henry nodded and tried to suppress the slight flicker of a smile.

"Knowing Hancock, he's most likely trying to force the position even now. Perhaps we'll get lucky, but if Longstreet is there already, I doubt if one corps can do the job."

"Pick your spot well, Hunt I want every gun you've got on the line. Tomorrow morning we punch a way through. I'll come along shortly."

Henry saluted and left the church, yet again ignoring the reporters shouting questions as he mounted up, motioning for his staff to follow.

The troops in the street were moving again, wearily shuffling along; the morning heat was already trapped in the street by the buildings, everything and everybody coated in a choking cloud of dust.

Off to the right he could hear the thunder building. Fifth Corps was going in.

10:30 AM, JULY 3,1863 THE ANTRIM, TANEYTOWN

Leaning against the railing of the "widow's walk," of the Antrim mansion, four stories above the surrounding countryside, Robert E. Lee trained his field glasses on the roiling clouds of smoke billowing up just to the north of town. The battlefront was spreading out the sound growing wider, the high crackling of musketry punctuated by the deeper thump of massed artillery.

Another courier came galloping down the street from the north, and a minute later he heard the heavy clump of boots racing up the stairs. The young lieutenant stopped beneath the ladder up to the widow's walk and Lee nodded, motioning for him to come up.

The boy saluted and handed the dispatch over.

10 AM. July 3 North of Taneytown

Sir,

I believe that I am now facing the entire Fifth Corps of the Union army. My ability to hold the forward position assigned is rapidly being compromised by flanking forces both to the east and west. Prisoners indicate that the entire Union army is moving in this direction. I request additional support.

J. B.Hood

Lee handed the note to Walter Taylor. As Walter read the note, Lee gazed back to the north and then west, the road to Emmitsburg. Rodes's division was wearily marching past, dust swirling up, the men staggering after a twelve-hour march. Behind them Johnson's division, which had been so badly mauled at Gettysburg, should be coming up, followed at last by Pickett At last report he was approaching Emmitsburg from over the mountains to the west

He balanced the odds. McLaws had two brigades in Westminster, the other two going into position at Union Mills. The three divisions of Hill's corps were moving toward Union Mills and Westminster, all three of them having suffered some loss at Gettysburg, especially Heth's, which was now commanded by Pettigrew.

If I really thought about this risk, Lee thought I'd freeze. Part of one division holding the forward flank of the line, another division here barely securing our main road of advance, and three divisions badly hit two days ago maneuvering to get into line in front of Westminster. Ewell's men were exhausted after an all-night march, all three of his divisions having been engaged the day before. They needed to rest; at best they'll be ready tomorrow for a fight but not today, and the same stood true of Hill's men.

If indeed Hood was right and the prisoner reports were true, in two hours the Union army could be through my line of march, cutting off two divisions to the west throwing the whole plan into chaos.

The goal of this campaign is Westminster, but to secure it we must hold Taneytown until the army has passed. Every man cut off, or tied up here, might be the crucial difference. If need be, Johnson can be used to support Hood, though the men of that division were badly fought out from the doomed assault at Gettysburg.