9th New York State Militia | Spared & Shared 23

The following letters were penned by Daniel Osborn (1849-1864), the son of William T. Osborn (1812-1915) and Sarah Ann Underhill (1811-1905) of Newburgh, Orange county, New York. Daniel was only 15 years old when he was recruited into Co. C, 9th New York State Militia (a.k.a. 83rd New York Infantry) on 25 September 1863. At the time that Daniel joined the regiment, most of the original members had only 9 months left to serve on their three-year enlistment. Only seventeen officers and 78 enlisted men would muster out of the service on 11 June 1864. Prior to Daniel’s joining the ranks, the regiment had seen action at 2nd Bull Run, South Mountain, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and Gettysburg; they were soon to join in the Overland Campaign.

Daniel did not survive the war. He died at Belle Plain Hospital on 10 May 1864 of wounds he received in the fighting at Spottsylvania Court House.

Letter 1

*Addressed to Mr. Wm. T. Osborn, Newburgh, Orange county, New York*

Culpeper, Va.
April 1st, 1864

Dear Father,

I now take my pen….

…the next morning we was in Culpeper. We laid in the street about a half day and then we marched out in the field and camped for the night. The next morning we got orders to pack up and we marched out about a mile and a half west of the town and have got orders to put up winter quarters. The teams is drawing logs for us. You say you would like to visit the army again if you was well but I would not advise you to come out here again right away for I don’t believe the Virginia climate agrees with you anymore… — Daniel Osborn

Letter 2

Culpeper, Va.
April 5th 1864

Dear Father,

I now take my pen in hand to write you a few lines & hope that when they reach you they will find you the same. I received your kind letter last night and one from John Martin. It got a letter from Mr. Lawson that wrote to you for my directions. I worked with him last summer to John Allison. He told me that John had sold his place and all his stock and is a going to Newburgh the 1st of May. You say that Jimmie Osborn says that if I am not well when the regiment goes in battle,that if I am not well enough, they can’t force me to go. If my regiment goes in battle, I want to go with it but I don’t much expect it will ever go in battle. That fortune teller in Co. I says we will be out of the field before we get paid again. He says that he don’t say that the war is ended, nor he says he cannot tell, but he told my tent mate that we would be out of the field before we got paid again.

I wish you would send me a stick of indian ink about as long as your finger. I do not want it for myself. It is for another man. He said he had no friends to write to for it. He told me he would give me one dollar for to get it for him. And I want two boxes of anguinam small fotes. ¹ You can send them all in a newspaper. I want one box for myself and one for another man.

It is very stormy here now. It storms every two or three days so there is no danger of moving.

If you will write to Capt. C[yrus] C. Hubbard and ask him, I think that he will have me detailed this spring for the old boys is a going home this spring and there will be a great many details but you know that there is no use for a private to say anything. I must close by sending you & all the rest of my friends my best love. So farewell, my dear Father, W. T. O.

Please direct to Daniel Osborn, 9th [New York] Regt. Co. C., Washington D. C.

¹ I’m quite sure I have not transcribed this correctly though it’s clear that Daniel did not know how to spell the product he was requesting be sent to him from home. It appears to have been some type of cream or ointment that was used by soldiers to either kill body lice or stop the itching.

Letter 3

Culpeper, Virginia
April 13, 1864

Dear Father,

I now take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well & hope that this will find you the same. I received your kind letter last night & was glad to hear from you & that you was well. I just got in from the Rapidan night before last & I had a rough time of it too. That work at Culpeper has stopped. Gen. Grant has just got a lot of big siege guns just come in Culpeper last night & it is the report that he is a going out to the Rapidan and shell them off the mountain and follow them up.

I received a pen in your letter and a poor one. I got that paper.

We went out yesterday a target shooting. Each man in the company fired ten shots but the target was so far off, the rifles kicked so that no one could hit it. We are to drill Shot Drill three times a week.

My pens are so poor that I can’t write. Give grandmother my best love. Also Aunt Sally & Uncle Dick. But I must close by sending you my best love. Wish you would send me some stamps.

I got a letter from R. E. Lawson. You speak of him a coming to see my likeness. He could not come there. He lives to Marlborough. So I must close by sending you my best love. Do farewell my dear Father W. T. Osborn

Direct to Daniel Osborn, 9th Regt. N. Y. S. M. , Co. C, Washington D. C.

Letter 4

Culpeper, Va.
April 17, 1864

Dear Father,

I now take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well and hope this will find you the same. I received your kind letter yesterday and was glad to hear from you. There is no talk of moving here yet. The Inspector General was here day before yesterday and he said the plans was not made out yet. There is not any fear of moving for it is a raining about every othre day. I wish you would send me some writing paper and envelopes. You said that [ ] put that anguintum on my comb and then comb my head. I want it for to put in the seems of my pantaloons in warm weather. The lice does not trouble the head. There is nothing but body lice. You say that you will write to Lieutenant-Colonel about getting me detailed. I would not want to be cook for I don’t think I can cook for to suit the officrs but I would like to take care of the officers’ horses or to drive an ambulance wagon. You can tell him that I am a good horse man.

I got them eight stamps. The Lieut.-Col. got a letter from you last night and he called me down a little while ago to find out about that box & he is a going to write today and see if he can find out anything about it.

You say that David & Smith is a going to Albany to get a berth on the canal. That is the place where they will make money. I should think that they might write to me. Neither one of them has ever written to me since I have been here but once. David wrote to me when you was sick and could not I guess that they have so much other writing to do that it makes their hands so sore that they cannot write to me. I want you to tell me when you write if that quire of paper that you got them is all gone. I guess it must be.

You wanted to know what I get so fat on. It is nothing but pork with the hair on and rotten potatoes, wormy hardtack, and a little soft bread once and fresh meat & coffee and sugar. That is good. I will never complain if Uncle Sam gives me as much all the time I am in the service.

Dear father, this is the 18th & it is a beautiful day. I have just come in off of drill. I have been thinking of sending for a pair of light boots with heavy soles to march in for it does not pay to wear these shoes for I have to send for a pair of shoes every month & they cost $2.15 cents. But I will wait for to see if the Colonel hears anything about it. I received that ink and Arguinton last night so I must bid you farewell for this time. Capt. [Cyrus C.] Hubbard just got home last night from a furlough. So farewell, my dear father W. T. Osborn

From your true, affectionate son. Direct to D. Osborn, 9th Regt. Co. C, N. Y. S. M.

This partial letter (and unsigned) letter seems to have been written by a member of the 9th New York State Militia which became the 83rd New York Volunteers. This regiment spent much of the summer following the Battle of Bull Run at Camp Stone near Darnestown, Maryland, where Union General Nathaniel Banks kept “a firm and certain hand” on the citizenry of Marylanders with a large military presence.

The letter was addressed to Eliza Ann Harbutt (b. 1843), the daughter of John Harbutt (b. 1822)—a clothier in New York City, and his wife Sarah Niffen (b. 1822). Both of her parents were English emigrants as was her grandfather, Francis Niffin—a taylor, who resided with the Harbutt’s in the same household in New York’s 14th Ward in 1860. Nothing further could be found on Eliza.

Transcription

Addressed to Miss E. A. Harbutt, care of Mrs. J. Williams, 165 Allen Street, New York

Camp Smith
Darnestown, Maryland
Tuesday, September 17, 1861

Dear Eliza,

I have now on hand three letters that I have received from you that I have not answered. One is dated 7th inst. and the other 14th inst.; the two last I received today along with one from Larry and one from home.

Larry wants to come out here; he wanted to know if there was any chance for him to join my company. I have just mailed an answer to him telling that he can join whenever he likes. I hope he will make up him mind to come. I would like to see him very much.

In your favor of the 9th, you say you have a beautiful duet which you and Mrs. Colston are to sing. I would like to hear it very much. I don’t know what a piano is now. I don’t think I have heard one since I left New York. When I come home, I will hammer your piano to pieces.

I would like to hear of a marriage between Mr. Higgins and a certain lady friend of yours. It would greatly relieve the monotony of his life.

You seem to think it ridiculous for me to think of coming home before next April; the fact is it is useless for anyone to make up their mind to see the close of his war within any definite period. It is all in the hands of the Almighty. We may see the close of it before New Years; then again we might not see the close of it for years. I have great hopes in the next battle. If we should prove to be the victorious party and the rebel army should be broken up, there is little doubt but the worst of the struggle will then be over. I hope so anyway.

Sunday, Hiram and myself had quite a picnic. We got a bottle of claret wine, two very nice pound cakes that we bought from a countryman that sells bread, biscuit, cakes, and pies, and such things around the camp. We also had some biscuit and a half pound of butter. We started about 10 o’clock in the morning. It was a beautiful day—cool and clear—and went a short distance from camp to a beautiful grove. We took our blankets along. There is a beautiful spring close by. We spread our blankets and spent the day there (Sundays we don’t have any drills) smoking, reading, writing, and eating and drinking all day. I tell you, we had a gay time. I am sure you would have enjoyed yourself had you been along, dear, for the surrounding scenery was most magnificent. Everything, in fact, was sublime.

We started for camp about five o’clock, arriving just in time for evening dress parade. We had supper. After supper there was ten men detailed for picket duty so Hiram and myself were among the number. We slung our blankets and reported to the guard house ready for duty. It was a splendid night. We expected some work that night. We were told to load carefully and be very diligent on our watches. Gen. Banks won’t let any of our officers go home on “furlough.” In fact, he won’t let them leave camp for scarcely two or three hours at a time. He seems to expect an attack every day. His headquarters are in the next field from us and he is always on the watch to see that everything goes on smoothly. He reviews all the troops around here most every day. It is hard telling how many troops there are here but I can see over twenty thousand from a hill near here. I suppose there must be a great many more than that though.

Let the rebel rascals undertake to cross anywhere near here and they will get the greatest warming they ever had. Larry ought to be out here now so as to take a hand in this grand affair that is expected to come off.

Larry promises to send me a sketch of my home…[remainder of letter missing]

Return address on envelope reads: Headquarters 9th Regt. N. Y. S. M, Darnestown, Md.