The War with the United States | Page 3

be that the vessel being American shall be evidence that the
seamen on board of her are such.' This would have prevented the
impressment of British seamen, even in British harbours, if they were
under the American merchant flag--a principle almost as preposterous,
at that particular time, as Jefferson's suggestion that the whole Gulf
Stream should be claimed 'as of our waters.'
If Jefferson had been backed by a united public, or if his actions had
been suited to his words, war would have certainly broken out during
his second presidential term, which lasted from 1805 to 1809. But he
was a party man, with many political opponents, and without
unquestioning support from all on his own side, and he cordially hated
armies, navies, and even a mercantile marine. His idea of an American
Utopia was a commonwealth with plenty of commerce, but no more
shipping than could be helped:
I trust [he said] that the good sense of our country will see that its
greatest prosperity depends on a due balance between agriculture,
manufactures, and commerce; and not on this protuberant navigation,
which has kept us in hot water since the commencement of our
government... It is essentially necessary for us to have shipping and
seamen enough to carry our surplus products to market, but beyond that
I do not think we are bound to give it encouragement... This exuberant
commerce brings us into collision with other Powers in every sea.
Notwithstanding such opinions, Jefferson stood firm on the question of
'Sailors' Rights.' He refused to approve a treaty that had been signed on
the last day of 1806 by his four commissioners in London, chiefly
because it provided no precise guarantee against impressment. The
British ministers had offered, and had sincerely meant, to respect all
American rights, to issue special instructions against molesting
American citizens under any circumstances, and to redress every case

of wrong. But, with a united nation behind them and an implacable
enemy in front, they could not possibly give up the right to take British
seamen from neutral vessels which were sailing the high seas. The
Right of Search was the acknowledged law of nations all round the
world; and surrender on this point meant death to the Empire they were
bound to guard.
Their 'no surrender' on this vital point was, of course, anathema to
Jefferson. Yet he would not go beyond verbal fulminations. In the
following year, however, he was nearly forced to draw the sword by
one of those incidents that will happen during strained relations. In
June 1807 two French men-of-war were lying off Annapolis, a hundred
miles up Chesapeake Bay. Far down the bay, in Hampton Roads, the
American frigate Chesapeake was fitting out for sea. Twelve miles
below her anchorage a small British squadron lay just within Cape
Henry, waiting to follow the Frenchmen out beyond the three-mile
limit. As Jefferson quite justly said, this squadron was 'enjoying the
hospitality of the United States.' Presently the Chesapeake got under
way; whereupon the British frigate Leopard made sail and cleared the
land ahead of her. Ten miles out the Leopard hailed her, and sent an
officer aboard to show the American commodore the orders from
Admiral Berkeley at Halifax. These orders named certain British
deserters as being among the Chesapeake's crew. The American
commodore refused to allow a search; but submitted after a fight,
during which he lost twenty-one men killed and wounded. Four men
were then seized. One was hanged; another died; and the other two
were subsequently returned with the apologies of the British
government.
James Monroe, of Monroe Doctrine fame, was then American minister
in London. Canning, the British foreign minister, who heard the news
first, wrote an apology on the spot, and promised to make 'prompt and
effectual reparation' if Berkeley had been wrong. Berkeley was wrong.
The Right of Search did not include the right to search a foreign
man-of-war, though, unlike the modern 'right of search,' which is
confined to cargoes, it did include the right to search a neutral
merchantman on the high seas for any 'national' who was 'wanted.'

Canning, however, distinctly stated that the men's nationality would
affect the consideration of restoring them or not. Monroe now had a
good case. But he made the fatal mistake of writing officially to
Canning before he knew the details, and, worse still, of diluting his
argument with other complaints which had nothing to do with the affair
itself. The result was a long and involved correspondence, a tardy and
ungracious reparation, and much justifiable resentment on the
American side.
Unfriendliness soon became Hostility after the Chesapeake affair had
sharpened the sting of the Orders-in-Council, which had been issued at
the beginning of the same year, 1807. These celebrated Orders simply
meant that so long