4 July 1692, Monday
This morn I spent time with Father, though there is little enough to do whilst the embargo remains. Father goes daily to the docks to stare at his grounded ships, the Elizabeth still waiting for her maiden voyage. I paced with him near the lapping shore, the tips of our boots wet from the low-tide waves. Tis quiet these days since there is not much work to be had, the workers sent home, grumbling as they go. As we stood near the flat blue line of the bay Father told me how Captain Short still rounds up sailors near Boston whether the men are willing or not. Father laughed when he said how Short’s conscription gangs are entering the chambers of the legislators fighting against the press gangs, parading the legislators through the streets in their nightclothes, and calli
