Originally aired on January 17, 1997 - In part 125 of our Civil War series, Virginia Tech history professor James Robertson profiles the life and career of John A. Harman, Stonewall Jackson’s only Quartermaster. He says the fact that Harman could not control himself made him one of the best Quartermasters in the Union.
#125 – An Unquotable Quartermaster
Of the thousands of men who served under General “Stonewall” Jackson, none was more of a character than John A. Harman of Staunton. He was one of five brothers who served in the Confederate army; he was the only soldier who dared to curse in Jackson’s presence. The fact that Harman could not control himself is what made him one of the best quartermasters in the Civil War.
A man of rough background and equally rough personality, Harman was born in 1824 on a farm near Waynesboro. His first jobs were with newspapers in Staunton and Lewisburg. An ever-active spirit drove him to the Texas frontier. He served in the Mexican War as a member of the famous Texas Rangers.
Harman then returned to Staunton, acquired considerable capital in the livestock business and, with his brother Asher, purchased a stagecoach line that soon monopolized transportation in the upper Shenandoah Valley. Harman was also a country magistrate and major in the Virginia militia. He married into the prominent Garber family of Staunton and fathered thirteen children.
This was the man who, in May, 1861, became quartermaster in the forces of Thomas J. Jackson. Harman would be the only quartermaster Jackson ever had. This is strange. Since both Harman and Jackson were men of strong personalities, it is a wonder that heir several arguments did not produce a permanent schism.
According to a fellow staff officer, Harman was “a big-bodied, big-voiced, untiring, fearless man and devil who would have ordered Jackson himself out of the way if necessary to obey Jackson’s orders.” Soldiers called him “the old Major”, and they gave him wide berth. Unpolished in manners, short in temper, Harman got things done through boundless energy, intimidation, and a profanity that turned the air blue.
In September, 1862, as Lee’s army was crossing the Potomac River into Maryland for the first invasion of the North, Jackson’s wagon train became hopelessly snarled. An exasperated Jackson summoned Major Harman. The quartermaster splashed into the water among the wagons, kicked stubborn mules, and unleashed a volume of profanity (said a witness) “that would have excited the admiration of the most scientific mule-drivers”. Now-frightened teamsters yelled at now-frightened mules, and the traffic jam disappeared within moments.
When Harman rode up to report to the watching Jackson, he expected a stern lecture on his language. He defended himself by shouting: “The ford’s cleared, General! There’s only one language that will make mules understand on a hot day that they must get out of the water!”
Jackson’s lips twitched slightly. The general then said: “Thank you, Major”, and crossed the Potomac while shaking his head in resignation.
Harman’s lack of military knowledge, his inability to keep secrets, and his ongoing personality clashes with Jackson, marred his high effectiveness as a quartermaster. Yet his management of fourteen miles of wagons during Jackson’s Valley Campaign remains one of the extraordinary feats of the war.
After the fighting ended, Harman returned to Staunton, farmed a bit, and managed a popular water resort. Convinced that the South must take its place in the new nation, he took the first step by joining the Republican Party. This act brought him wide criticism from neighbors; it also led President Grant to appoint him postmaster of Staunton. A few months later, in July, 1874, Harman died.
An unfriendly Staunton newspaper described him as “a man of strong convictions and uncompromising in his beliefs, caring little for the opinions of others”. John Harman would have nodded agreement at that – and probably added a few four-letter words just for emphasis.