ritish Isles--a measure terrifying to American ship owners whose
vessels were liable to seizure by any French rover, though Napoleon had
no navy to make good his proclamation. Great Britain countered with a
still more irritating decree--the Orders in Council of 1807. It modified
its blockade, but in so doing merely authorized American ships not
carrying munitions of war to complete their voyage to the Continent, on
condition of their stopping at a British port, securing a license, and
paying a tax. This, responded Napoleon, was the height of insolence, and
he denounced it as a gross violation of international law. He then
closed the circle of American troubles by issuing his Milan Decree of
December, 1807. This order declared that any ship which complied with
the British rules would be subject to seizure and confiscation by French
authorities.

=The Impressment of Seamen.=--That was not all. Great Britain, in dire
need of men for her navy, adopted the practice of stopping American
ships, searching them, and carrying away British-born sailors found on
board. British sailors were so badly treated, so cruelly flogged for
trivial causes, and so meanly fed that they fled in crowds to the
American marine. In many cases it was difficult to tell whether seamen
were English or American. They spoke the same language, so that language
was no test. Rovers on the deep and stragglers in the ports of both
countries, they frequently had no papers to show their nativity.
Moreover, Great Britain held to the old rule--"Once an Englishman,
always an Englishman"--a doctrine rejected by the United States in
favor of the principle that a man could choose the nation to which he
would give allegiance. British sea captains, sometimes by mistake, and
often enough with reckless indifference, carried away into servitude in
their own navy genuine American citizens. The process itself, even when
executed with all the civilities of law, was painful enough, for it
meant that American ships were forced to "come to," and compelled to
rest submissively under British guns until the searching party had pried
into records, questioned seamen, seized and handcuffed victims. Saints
could not have done this work without raising angry passions, and only
saints could have endured it with patience and fortitude.

Had the enactment of the scenes been confined to the high seas and
knowledge of them to rumors and newspaper stories, American resentment
might not have