Harry knew that the battle was won and that it had been won more easily than any of the other great battles that he had seen.

He wondered what Jackson would do.

Would he follow up the grand division of Franklin that he had defeated and which still lay in front of them?
But he ceased to ask the question, because when the last charge, shattered to pieces, rolled back down Marye's Hill, the magnificent Northern artillery seemed to Harry to go mad.

The thirty guns of the heaviest weight that had been left on Stafford Heights, and which had ceased firing only when the Northern men charged, now reopened in a perfect excess of fury.

Harry believed that they must be throwing tons of metal every minute.
Nor was Franklin slack.