For nearly a decade the 67th New York never suffered a single casualty in the ranks… until one day in the Spring of 2007 when one of our Founding Fathers, John Ernest (a/k/a Corporal Josiah McCartney), passed away suddenly. The news was all the more tragic as we had seen him only a few days previous during our Living History encampment at Smithtown Historical Society.
John surprised us that early Sunday morning with his visit however we really shouldn't have been... Although John had not donned the uniform in five years he still paid us a visit every season in his civilian clothes just to catch up with his old pards. Like many others, the demands of family and work forced John to leave the hobby behind however there was always that feeling during his occasional visits that with some free time and a little encouragement, he would have suited and accoutered up with us in a minute.
During this last visit, our Lieutenant managed to convince John to join us at Green-wood Cemetery in Brooklyn the following week for a Memorial Day. We were all looking forward to having John join us after such a long absence...
Sadly, Memorial Day 2007 was a black one for our regiment. We performed at Green-wood Cemetery that day, a bitter irony for us honoring the soldiers that fought and for those who kept their spirit alive in our modern age. John may not have been with us in body at Green-wood but hopefully he was with us in spirit.
Starting with the 119th NY and then with the 67th NY, John’s dedication to Living History was expressed with an unrivaled creativity that still remains with us today. An artist at heart, John's hands crafted wonderfully detailed and artistic articles that some of us still keep and use today. Anyone who has visited his home could see that it was a testament to a man that could not allow his artistic vision to remain idle within his mind.
Yet for all his work in the hobby, and for his key role in founding the 67th NY, John's most important contribution was his companionship. For whatever the circumstances, John was loyal, helpful, and always willing to be a good friend. Those that knew John have suffered a staggering loss yet they will always have their memories of him to keep the spirit of his friendship alive.
The muffled drum’s sad roll has beat
The soldier’s last tattoo,
No more on life’s parade shall meet
That brave and fallen few
On Fame’s eternal camping-ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead
No rumour of the foe’s advance
Now swells upon the wind,
No troubled thought at midnight haunts
Of loved ones left behind
No vision of the morrow’s strife
The warriors dream alarms.
No braying horn, no screaming fife
At dawn shall call to arms.
The neighing troop, the flashing blade,
The bugle’s stirring blast,
The charge, the dreadful cannonade,
The din and shout are past.
Your own proud land’s heroic soil
Shall be your fitter grave,
She claims from war his richest spoil,
The ashes of her brave.
Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead,
Dear as the blood ye gave.
No impious footstep here shall tread
The herbage of your grave.
