Officers and Board of Managers
of Kentucky Society

1913-14.

President Emeritus-Major Otis S. Tenney.
President-Joseph Le Compte.

First Vice-President-Dr. Samuel H. Halley.
Second Vice-President-John R. Allen.
Secretary-Samuel M. Wilson.

Treasurer-J. Edward Bassett.

Registrar-J. Craig Shelby.

Historian-W. E. Barron.

Chaplain-Rev. Charles Lee Reynolds.

MANAGERS.

Desha Breckinridge,
Louis des Cognets,
Wilbur R. Smith,

W. W. Estill,

Clifton B. Ross,
Lucas Brodhead,

Thomas R. Morgan,

Clinton M. Harbison,

Alan Pegram Gilmour.

NOTE.-Professor Alexander Reed Milligan (No. 58, page 71, supra) died April 30, 1913.

Admitted

1913 GILMOUR, ALAN PEGRAM, Lexington, Ky.

Accession No. 65

Fourth in descent from Edward Pegram, II (1720-1795); Captain of Militia of Dinwiddie County, Virginia, and a soldier in the Revolution.

REFERENCES: Auditor's Account Book, 1779-1780 (MS), p. 88; Revolutionary Soldiers of Virginia, Report of the Virginia State Librarian for 1911, page 345; Hayden's "Virginia Genealogies"; Slaughter's "Bristol Parish"; Bishop Meade's "Virginia Churches."

Annual Dinner:

April 19th ("Lexington Day").

Annual Business Meeting: February 22d (Washington's Birthday).

THE NAMING OF LEXINGTON.

By ALAN PEGRAM GILMOUR.

"The eighteenth of April in 'Seventy-five,
Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year!"

So sang the poet, if my memory's clear,

In telling of the ride of Paul Revere.

But, have we now forgotten it, that time our patriots hurled
The shot of proud defiance that went thundering 'round the world?
Ah, no, far from it, brothers, here around us you can see
In this city of the Blue Grass, of our dear old Kentucky,
A memorial, time-defying, to that glorious war begun

By the fight in Massachusetts, near the village, Lexington.

'Twas a summer night, and hunters, comrades of th' immortal Boone,
Were encamped where now we banquet, and the yellow harvest moon
Shed its rays thro' spreading branches over men of stalwart breed,
Men who won this empire for us by sheer grit and gallant deed;
Men who made the toilsome journey o'er the Cumberland's steep trail,
And with firm faith fought on Westward, knowing no such word as "FAIL."

To the pathfinders thus resting 'round their fire beneath the trees
Came a messenger, all breathless, and his tidings, they were these:
"There has been a fight, my brothers, and our arms have won the day,
On the bloody field of Lexington, up Massachusetts way:
We have sent the redcoats flying like a pack of driven sheep,
And the flames of revolution thro' the Colonies now sweep
From the hills o'erlooking Boston to Savannah by the sea,
While our proud flag bears the motto: 'AMERICA IS FREE!'
Free for all time from bondage to a hated foreign band-
America, the Beautiful, our own dear native land!"

He ceased, and for a moment silence held all rooted there

With amazement at the tidings, but next instant on the air

Rose the wild whoop of the hunters as they leaped up from the ground, Waking forest glade and hillside with the glad triumphant sound

Which met the proclamation of another nation's birth

The advent of Columbia, the fairest land on earth.

THE NEW YORK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

When at length the mad elation of the hunters ran its course
Stepped forth young Robert Patterson, and in voice emotion-hoarse:
“Let us give this spot, my comrades,” cried he, "whereon now we stand,
The glorious name of LEXINGTON, which shall be throughout the
land

For all time to come a monument that the sons of men can see,
And an altar dedicated to a people brave and free!"

Thus our fair town had its origin, in the days of long ago,
And though you'll find upon the map at least a score or so
Of other towns called Lexington, the one without a peer

Is the one that harbors us tonight-this good old town, right here!

SONG OF THE RAID.

On the Cumberland's bosom
The moonbeams are bright,
And the path of the raiders
Is plain by her light;
Across the broad riffle

And up the steep bank,

The long, winding column

Moves rank after rank.

Then ho! for the Blue Grass

And welcome the chance

No matter the danger

That bids us advance;

The odds must be heavy

To turn or deter

The lads who make war

With the pistol and spur!

All hail to the Blue Grass,
So sweet in my sight-

To its pastures so green

And its waters so bright;

If it pass to the stranger,
Be lost to the brave,
I'll ask of my birthland
Enough for a grave.
-Duke.