Permanent voluntary removal from a civilized to an uncivilized country has not been an experience of common occurrence in human history, yet it was one that Anne Bradstreet shared with all her neighbors. For her, though, even more than for most of the emigrants, it had been an especially traumatic experience, partly because as a woman she did not participate in the public achievements that sustained the men but also, and more decisively, because in England, at the earl of Lincoln's estate, she had grown up from girlhood accustomed to a life of intellectual activity and physical comfort such as she was unlikely ever to recover in her new surroundings. As the daughter of Thomas Dudley, the earl's highly regarded steward, she had lived well, had access to the library of Sempringham, heard music, engaged in stimulating conversation, attended church, seen the “riches of some famous Fair” – in short, she had lived the sort of pleasant and civilized life that, in later years in rude New England, would provide a fund of ideal memories.