Harry Heth’s was a military family. When he came of age, the young man entered the U.S. Military Academy at West Point. In 1846, he was inadvertently stabbed in the leg during bayonet training. At a time before antibiotics when even mild wounds could lead to sepsis and gory death, Heth somehow pulled through. The following year, Heth graduated as the goat (not GOAT)—the cadet at the very bottom of his academic class.
Harry Heth led a company during the 1855 Battle of Ash Hollow, killing a great many Lakota women and children, among other things.
Three years later, Heth penned the Army’s very first marksmanship manual titled “A System of Target Practice.” For the next several years, the young lieutenant did lieutenant things leading troops around the American West. Then there was a bit of a dustup at Fort Sumter, and everybody’s world went all pear-shaped.
Harry Heth Does Proper War
The 1860s were a fruitful time for a West Point grad, even one with sub optimal grades. America faced off against itself, and trained military men were in short supply. That meant meteoric promotions and command time aplenty.
Among other things, Heth logged a stint as Robert E. Lee’s Quartermaster. An Army runs on its stomach, and this was a terribly important job. Lee and Heth subsequently developed a friendship. Heth was one of the few subordinates that the notoriously professional General Lee referred by his first name. In May of 1863, Heth was promoted to major general and given a division in A.P. Hill’s Corps.
Criticality
Now some 162 years distant, it is easy for us modern folk to lose sight of just what an iffy thing the American Civil War actually was.
More adroit commentators than I have spilt rivers of ink on the details. A few quite-talented novelists have penned some compelling alternative histories as well. Suffice to say, had the Confederacy prevailed and the United States advanced as something not quite so united, our modern world would be quite different today.
The particulars of two world wars, social evolution, and the Information Age would be unrecognizable from what our history books currently depict. All that really turned on a single battle that unfolded in and around the Pennsylvania community of Gettysburg in July of 1863.
Lee was in overall command. He directed his subordinate commanders to avoid a decisive engagement with Union forces until he had his reserves positioned.
However, Harry Heth was an impetuous man. While marching east from Cashtown on July 1, Heth deployed two full infantry brigades forward in a reconnaissance in force. He later claimed to have been looking for fresh shoes for his men. Historians have since disputed this. Regardless, when Heth’s two brigades met the Union cavalry under General John Buford, it was game on.
Inflection Points
Any amateur student of Civil War history knows the rest. Pickett’s Charge petered out under withering fire, and Joshua Chamberlain’s audacious bayonet charge ultimately turned the tide of the fight. Before Gettysburg, the Confederate Army was within striking distance of the White House. Afterwards, it was a long, bloody slog all the way to Appomattox. All that kind-of hinged upon Harry Heth.
Prior to the unpleasantness at Gettysburg, Harry Heth had invested in a new campaign hat. Hats were ubiquitous back then and meant more than just comfort on a sunny day. This one arrived just a bit oversized for Heth’s head. To compensate, the good general liberally lined his new chapeau with newspaper.
While fighting at Gettysburg, Heth and Rebel Major General Robert Rodes prosecuted a combined attack against a Union Corps, putting the Yankees to flight.
Amidst the chaos of battle, Heth caught a Minie ball to the nugget. That big, fat .58-caliber round penetrated his hat, tracked around his ersatz newspaper lining, and exited the far side without debraining him in the process. The fortunate general spent the next 30 hours unconscious but eventually recovered.
Denouement
Heth fought honorably later at places like the Wilderness, Spotsylvania, and Cold Harbor. He stood alongside his friend Bob Lee when it was time to pack it in at Appomattox Court House.
After the war, Heth sold insurance and later took a government job as a surveyor. He died in 1899 at the age of 73, the unkillable Confederate general who quite possibly lost the American Civil War.