Out of nowhere sounded the call of a blaring bugle announcing the Patriots’ charge. Suddenly, Goose Creek filled with the exploding echoes of cannons. Fumes from gunpowder and smoke swallowed the air. Sarah cut short her picking and dropped her bag on the ground. She ran as fast as her legs would go to the quarters. Standing on the step for a moment, she watched soldiers plunder everything they could find: pots, utensils, bedding, equipment, horses, cattle, feed and hay. As streaks of blue, white and gold dashed in and out of the stables, barns and Big House, panic claimed her and her heart skipped a beat. Inside the hut, Sarah found Grandmother grabbing up the few treasures she had hidden under her bunk—a small wooden box, papers, some coloured head rags, pipes and shoes. Sarah got her counting stick, a bone-handled hairbrush and ribbons and they tied the things in blankets. The next minute, a loud shot and bone-chilling screams cut through the troubled air.
