The close of the Revolution found American shipping in a reasonably prosperous condition.  It is true that the peaceful vocation of the seamen had been interrupted, all access to British ports denied them, and their voyages to Continental markets had for six years been attended by the ever-present risk of capture and condemnation.  But on the other hand, the war had opened the way for privateering, and out of the ports of Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut the privateers swarmed like swallows from a chimney at dawn.  To the adventurous and not over-scrupulous men who followed it, privateering was a congenial pursuit—­so much so, unhappily, that when the war ended, and a treaty robbed their calling of its guise of lawfulness, too many of them still continued it, braving the penalties of piracy for the sake of its gains.  But during the period of the Revolution privateering did the struggling young nation two services—­it sorely harassed the enemy, and it kept alive the seafaring zeal and skill of the New Englanders.

For a time it seemed that not all this zeal and skill could replace the maritime interests where they were when the Revolution began.  For most people in the colonies independence meant a broader scope of activity—­to the shipowner and sailor it meant new and serious limitations.  England was still engaged in the effort to monopolize ocean traffic by the operation of tariffs and navigation laws.  New England having become a foreign nation, her ships were denied admittance to the ports of the British West Indies, with which for years a nourishing trade had been conducted.  Lumber, corn, fish, live stock, and farm produce had been sent to the islands, and coffee, sugar, cotton, rum, and indigo brought back.  This commerce, which had come to equal L3,500,000 a year, was shut off by the British after American independence, despite the protest of Pitt, who saw clearly that the West Indians would suffer even more than the Americans.  Time showed his wisdom.  Terrible sufferings came upon the West Indies for lack of the supplies they had been accustomed to import, and between 1780 and 1787 as many as 15,000 slaves perished from starvation.

Another cause held the American merchant marine in check for several years succeeding the declaration of peace.  If there be one interest which must have behind it a well-organized, coherent national government, able to protect it and to enforce its rights in foreign lands, it is the shipping interest.  But American ships, after the Treaty of Paris, hailed from thirteen independent but puny States.  They had behind them the shadow of a confederacy, but no substance.  The flags they carried were not only not respected in foreign countries—­they were not known.  Moreover, the States were jealous of each other, possessing no true community of interest, and each seeking advantage at the expense of its neighbors.  They were already beginning to adopt among themselves the very tactics of harassing and crippling navigation laws which caused the protest against Great Britain.  This “Critical Period of American History,” as Professor Fiske calls it, was indeed a critical period for American shipping.