Even after the near disaster on May 6th, Heth remained determined and bold. His division got back into fighting trim in a matter of hours and launched strong attacks on the enemy at Waite's Shop, on May 10th, and Bethesda Church, on June 2nd. At the Weldon Railroad, on August 18th, Heth moved at once and struck hard with just two brigades, in an attempt to dislodge the Federals before they dug in. He tried again, making three more determined attacks the next day. On the 25th, he personally led the dramatic assault at Reams' Station, which was pressed home under heavy fire, through a 200 yard abatis, and which led to the capture of nine cannons and 2,000 men. He was in over all command of the troops that defeated the Federals’ attempt to seize the Southside Railroad on September 30th (though his own division was unsuccessful in its fight at Fort Bratton the next day) and he devised and executed the plan that totally defeated the further Federal attempt to turn the Petersburg line at Burgess' Mill, on October 27th.

All these successes were achieved, against odds, by the closest tactical cooperation between infantry and cavalry, and between units of different divisions and corps. At Waite's Shop and Bethesda, Heth acted under the orders of Jubal Early of the 2nd Corps, and, in his memoirs, Early, an exacting critic, spoke warmly of Heth's efforts to carry out his wishes. At the Weldon Railroad, on August 19th 1864, it was Heth's determined assaults on Ayres' front that permitted his rival, Mahone, to turn the Federal right and sweep up 2,700 prisoners. Mahone received, and made no effort to share, the glory of the day. At Reams' Station, Heth's attack was made by two of his own brigades and one of Wilcox's, and was launched in cooperation with Hampton's cavalry. Hancock, the Union commander, was lucky to get away with even part of his force. At Fort Bratton, although Heth's attack was unsuccessful, it is important to note that it was launched in coordination with, and as a support to, Wilcox's successful strike at Pegram Farm. And, at Burgess' Mill, on October 27th, Heth developed and carried out a complex counter-attack involving pushing across the enemy's communications with Davis' Brigade, holding the roads with Hampton's cavalry, and striking into the flank and rear of the enemy's main force with three brigades from his own and Mahone's Divisions. The enemy's advance, again under Hancock, their best corps commander, was cut off from its 5th Corps supports, and Hancock himself was so badly shaken that he gave up the entire venture and retreated without attempting to hold any of the ground he had advanced over. This was the worst set back the Federals had suffered since the previous June. Predictably, Mahone, who actually carried out the principal attack also tried to claim that he had devised the plan of the battle. Heth denied this, pointing out that, as Mahone had never been on that part of the line until he arrived in the middle of the operation, he could not have had enough topographical information to devise any sort of plan.

This contretemps may have been unseemly, but it can not obscure the fact that, on the field of battle, with their country's survival at stake, the commanders of the 3rd Corps and the cavalry had once again cooperated to launch a rapid, aggressive and successful counter-attack against a powerful enemy flanking force.

Heth had again convincingly demonstrated that he was a team player, and this must be the key to the commanding general's continued confidence in him. From his very first day in action as a divisional commander (when he had urged Lee to allow him to attack in support of Rodes at Gettysburg) Heth had proved his willingness to cooperate for the general good. Lee valued willingness to cooperate above any other characteristic in his generals – even more than intelligence and tactical sense.

At Burgess' Mill, Heth had also, for the first time, displayed general¬ship of a high order. When stripping the Hatcher's Run Line to provide troops for his counter-attack, he was careful to leave his least efficient and worst led brigade (Archer's, under Colonel Mayo) behind to hold the trenches. He positioned his finest brigade (Cooke's) at the mill itself, in case a straight frontal counter-attack became necessary; and, most significantly, he did his very best to avoid having to make such a frontal attack, by sending Mahone and three brigades to strike into the enemy's rear. This strike was made down a little known track previously located by Heth and earmarked for just such a purpose. This was the first time in ten major battles that Heth had deliberately sought to avoid a straightforward frontal assault. Despite his unique success at Reams' Station, Heth had finally decided to replace brute force with tactical science. Had any of Heth's measures at Burgess' Mill failed, the enemy's advance would have cut the Southside Railroad, and Petersburg and Richmond would have fallen five months sooner than they did. For this singular service he has never received any recognition.

Although commissioned to aid in collecting information for the Official Records, Heth never made his Burgess' Mill report public. It remained hidden in his papers, along with the other reports previously mentioned, undiscovered until quite recently. Perhaps he suppressed it because of its references to his disagreement with Mahone. Whatever the reason, his reputation has suffered as a result. D.S. Freeman seems to have had only the haziest idea of what happened at Burgess's, and covers the whole operation in ten lines, giving all the credit to Hampton.

One other aspect of Heth's character deserves mention, and that is his courage. His physical courage has never been questioned. His reputation as an Indian fighter on the plains was fairly won, and the man who led the attack at Reams’ proved, without doubt, that he never required more from his men than he was prepared to give himself. His moral courage, however, is less easy to quantify. If Heth's delightful and amusing memoirs are written with a modesty that prevents him from taking credit for his successes, his official reports reveal a man unpleasantly intent on avoiding taking responsibility for his failures. Heth's report of what happened at Falling Waters is nothing less than a falsification of the truth, and can only be explained in terms of a man determined to protect his reputation and career at any cost. Some of his other reports would seem to be little better. R. J. Sommers describes Heth's one sentence account of the battle of Pegram Farm as “characteristically disingenuous”. And when Heth felt he was likely to be blamed for mishaps that were not his fault, he does not seem to have been too squeamish about naming the guilty party. The letter he appears to have asked A. P. Hill to write after Bristoe Station (in which Hill took full responsibility for the failure and exonerated Heth) must have left a nasty taste in the corps commander's mouth.

Sometimes Heth's dissembling worked, sometimes it did not. His Falling Waters report worked best. His claim that there had been no fighting north of the river was even accepted (in private) by the enemy army commander, because the man who defeated Heth in that engagement, Judson Kilpatrick, was a bully-boy and braggart with a reputation for exagger¬ation. On the other hand, the most celebrated occasion upon which Heth came unstuck was the time he tried to tell Lee he had carried out orders to fill in a gap of several hundred yards in the Hatcher's Run trenches. Lee, probably knowing the work had not been done, insisted they ride out to view the “progress”. When they arrived, to find matters not as Heth had described, the major-general's agitation transmitted itself to his horse, which became rather excited. Lee remarked pointedly that the best treatment for excitable horses was lots of exercise, and suggested Heth ride out to the trenches every day until they were completed.

If Heth had a blind spot when it came to protecting his reputation and career with words, it is only fair to point out that he never tried to protect them by playing safe on the battlefield; indeed, on occasions, he was bold to the point of rashness. Heth never took council of his fears. He possessed, in abundance, the true moral courage of a general - the courage to act. Heth was not one of those divisional commanders who failed to attack on time at Gettysburg, and he was not afraid to fight it out against appalling odds, and without a man in reserve, at The Wilderness, on May 5th. During this engagement, his right wing consisting of 2,500 men, with one flank in the air, beat off four full-scale attacks by a total of 10,000 Federal troops, after which, Heth ordered a counter-attack. Time and again, on the Petersburg line, Heth ventured forth from the safety of the trenches, to plunge into the forbidding forest to the south in order to intercept and halt superior enemy flanking columns. He was never intimidated by the reputations of the men he was fighting, never put off by the enemy's superior resources and was never made despondent by defeat. He did not suffer from psychosomatic illnesses during crises, and, according to the army inspector, was an “active and energetic“ officer. Both he and his division were incredibly resilient. They renewed the attack three times at Waite's Shop, on May 10th, and apparently managed the same at the Weldon Railroad, on August 19th.

First and last Harry Heth was a fighter. He was one of the most aggressive officers in Lee's army and did more to shape and sustain its reputation than has generally been supposed. Some, at least, of the factors that denied him the glory he so deeply desired, were outside his control. He joined the army at the zenith of its power and served throughout its decline. Many of his more famous colleagues made their names early, fighting men less able and experienced than the men Heth faced. If he was not without faults, he earned and retained the respect and personal friendship of Winfield Scott Hancock. There could be few better recommendations.