Hayden's Great, Great, Great Grandparents On His Father's Father's Father's Mother's Side, Sarah & John Haskin
The couple is Sarah “Tay” Mace Haskin & John Haskin, Hayden's Great, great, great grandparents.
The three women are “Tay” (1847-1934) in the middle, Phoebe (1870-1927) and Agnes on the right, (1879-1947). Agnes is my father’s mother.
The artillery men are how John might have looked in his unit.
The One hundred and Thirteenth Regiment N.Y. Volunteers, or Seventh Regiment, N.Y. Volunteer Artillery was organized as the Albany County Regiment in the 13th Senatorial District. The first man was enlisted July 24, 1862. Over 1,100 men were mustered in August 18, 1862.
The regiment left Albany August 19, 1862. It was stationed in the defenses of Washington. Changed, December, 1862, from infantry to artillery, and designated as Seventh N.Y. Volunteer Artillery. It built, re-constructed and cleared timber for garrisons around Washington DC.
May 17, 1864, the regiment joined the Army of the Potomac, near Spotsylvania Court House, Virginia. Was engaged in the battles of the Po River, North Anna River, Tolopotony Creek, Cold Harbor, Petersburg, Deep Bottom and Ream’s Station.
It suffered severely, and was greatly reduced in numbers.
February 22, 1865, the remnant was ordered to Baltimore, till mustered out June, 1865. It was stationed for awhile at Fort Pennsylvania in the picture.
John wrote a poem of his life and his experiences with the number thirteen.
From the poem, one can glean that he was born the 4th of 13 children in a log cabin and at 16, started working as a “month-hand”, or a “hired man” as we used to call them.
He probably worked for room & board and a small salary for about 12 years when he joined the Union army at 28.
He apparently served 3 years, and 6 months after his discharge, he married Sarah “Tay”.
I somehow know Sarah was his second wife but do not know what happened to her. He died three years after writing this poem.
“My Experience With the Fatal Number Thirteen”
by John Haskin, 7th N. Y Heavy Artillery Co. F , Middleburgh, R.D.1
I was born in old Schoharie in 1834
In a little old log cabin with latch strings out the door,
In the good old town of Broome, so loyal and so true,
To our glorious starry banner and the boys who wore the blue.
I there grew up to boyhood, on those rough and rugged hills,
Where I learned the art of farming and those rugged hills to till.
Until the age of sixteen, I thought t’would do no harm,
To hire out as month-hand to work upon a farm.
I kept on in that vocation, until August 62,
Then changed my occupation, put on a suit of “blue”
To march ‘way down in Dixie, because I thought it right,
To protect our home and country, although we had to fight.
I was one of thirteen children, the fourth one of the lot
On the thirteenth day of August in the morning at six o’clock,
There were thirteen of our neighbor boys, started off with cheers,
At night we all were members of the 113th Volunteers.
For near three years we tramped it through Virginia’s mud and sand
Sometimes we were down-hearted, sometimes a happy band;
When the cruel war was over, all but two came marching home,
To resume the occupation, that we left while we were gone.
On the thirteenth of December, I took to me a wife,
Who was thirteen years my junior, born the thirteenth of July;
Though this fatal number, thirteen, comes so ‘oft in my career,
I am still quite hale and hearty, in my eighty-second year.
John Haskin 1834-1919 Co. F 7th NY Heavy Art Civil War. Buried at Soldiers Memorial-Keyserkill Cemetary, Town Of Broome, Schoharie County, New York
Just a simple, small desire that I hope's all right with you,
May we all be writing poems at the age of eighty-two..Gerry Hubbard
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