much that whenever she passed their lines her sergeant's cocked hat was always filled with French coins. By a special act of state legislature she was given a pension of eighty dollars a year.
There is more than a thrilling story in this woman's life; there is a lesson of loyalty and courage; a lesson of a life not to be spoiled by praise and popularity.
"Oh Molly, Molly with eyes so blue,
Oh Molly, Molly here's to you,
Sweet honor's role will aye be richer
To hold the name of Molly Pitcher."
MARY SLOCUMB.
If a plain, unvarnished narrative of the sayings and doings of the actors in our Revolutionary times—those unknown by name save in the neighborhood where they lived—could by some miraculous means be gathered and published, it would surpass in thrilling interest any romance ever written. And one of the most remarkable chapters of such a volume undoubtedly would be the career of Mary Slocumb. Her maiden name was Hooks and she was born in North Carolina in 1760. When she was about ten years old, her father moved into a region called Goshen, famous for years in North Carolina for the frank simplicity of its inhabitants and for their profuse and generous hospitality. Here were nurtured some of the noblest spirits of the Revolution. The constant presence of the Loyalists and Tories in the neighborhood and their depredations called for vigilance as well as bravery. Sometimes the barn or dwelling of an unfortunate Whig wrapt in flames lighted up the darkness; sometimes his fate was to be hung to a sapling and not infrequently similar atrocities were in like manner avenged upon the aggressors.
Accustomed to hear of such things and inured to scenes of danger, it is not to be wondered at that the gay and sprightly Mary Hooks should acquire a degree of masculine energy and independence with many really manly accomplishments, all of which stood her in good stead in the days to follow when her strength as well as her spirit were tried as the wife of a fighting patriot. Soon after the removal of the family to Goshen, her mother died and in 1777 her father married the widow of John Charles Slocumb, whose eldest son, Ezekiel Slocumb, eventually took her as an eighteen-year-old bride to his large plantation on the Neuse. To prevent and punish the frequent incursions of the Tories, her husband joined a troop of light-horse who, acting on their own responsibility, performed the duty of scouts, scouring the coantry wherever they had notice of any necessity for their
