The Quest for a Lost Race

The native Kentuckian has a deep and abiding affection for the "Old Commonwealth" which gave him birth. It is as passionate a sentiment, too—and some might add, as irrational—as the love of a Frenchman for his native France. But it is an innocent idolatry in both, and both are entitled to the indulgent consideration of alien critics whose racial instincts are less susceptible and whose emotional nature is under better control. Here and there, a captious martinet who has been wrestling, mayhap, with a refractory recruit from Kentucky, will tell you that the average Kentuckian is scarcely more "educable" than his own horse; that he is stubborn, irascible, and balky; far from "bridle-wise," and visibly impatient under disciplinary restraint. In their best military form Kentuckians have been said to lack "conduct" and "steadiness"—even the men that touched shoulders in the charge at King's Mountain and those, too, that broke the solid Saxon line at the Battle of the Thames. Whether this be true or not—in whole or in part—we do not now stop to enquire. Suffice it to say that the Kentuckian has been a participant in many wars, and has given a good account of himself in all. In ordinary circumstances, too, he is invincibly loyal to his native State; and when it happened that, in the spring of 1906, there came to Kentuckians in exile, an order or command from the hospitable Governor of Kentucky to return at once to the State, they responded with the alacrity of distant retainers to a signal from the hereditary Chieftain of the Clan. "Now," said they, "the lid will be put on and the latch-string left out."