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My hometown was destroyed during King Philips War. They burned all the houses and slaughtered all the English they could get their hands on. Babies were scalped, livestock had their bellies cut open so they died slowly dragging their entrails around, men and women had both their hands and feet cut off and left marooned deep in the wilderness and writhe in the mud and be prayed upon by wild animals.
The panic that swept the Bay Colony as every town and outpost were left in ashes one after the other was palpable. They even considered building a gigantic stockade around Boston and commence evacuation of the colony.
It took another generation or two to safely rebuild all the destroyed towns. It's quite a heavy history New England springs out of, with two opposing forces literally committing genocide against each other. I feel it every winter. An entire forest fortification of over 1000 Indians was burned in the dead of winter roasting almost all of them, and the weather was so brutal that most of militia died of hypothermia or lost limbs to frostbite on the long return march. Fucking nightmare.
The beauty of the landscape in every season is something I can never tire of, but god damn it's a brutal place to survive if you don't have modern comforts or you are stuck in an existential struggle.
