as was Anne Bradstreet's nature, it seemed to her quite natural to
write of the "bloody, Popish, hellish miscreants"--

"Oh may you live, and so you will I trust,
To see them swill in blood untill they burst."

There was reason it was true; the same reason that brings the same
thought to-day to women on the far Western frontiers, for the
Irish butcheries had been as atrocious as any Indian massacre our
own story holds. The numbers butchered were something appaling,
and Hume writes: "By some computations, those who perished by all
these cruelties are supposed to be a hundred and fifty or two
hundred thousand; by the most moderate, and probably the most
reasonable account, they are made to amount to forty thousand---if
this estimation itself be not, as is usual in such cases, somewhat
exaggerated."

Irish ferocity was more than matched by English brutality.
Puritanism softened many features of the Saxon character, but even
in the lives of the most devoted, there is a keen relish for
battle whether spiritual or actual, and a stern rejoicing in any
depth of evil that may have overtaken a foe. In spite of the
tremendous value set upon souls, indifference to human life still
ruled, and there was even a certain relish, if that life were an
enemy's, in turning it over heartily and speedily to its proper
owner, Satan. Anne Bradstreet is no exception to the rule, and her
verses hold various fierce and unexpected outbursts against
enemies of her faith or country. The constant discussion of mooted
points by the ministers as well as people, made each man the judge
of questions that agitated every mind, and problems of all natures