Pressed into Service: Impressment in the Royal Navy

I have for some time had an avid interest in impressment. The reason for that, primarily came about during the many years  I spent researching family history. I have on a number of occasions come across stories of exactly such a nature concerning men in our own family tree and will relate just such tale as it’s told in the annals of our family.

“In about the year 1810 John McNeil Stewart, second generation Scotsman living in Ballycastle, Ireland, was pressed into service on His Majesty’s Ship, “The Observer”. After serving for some time on this ship, John Stewart eventually reached Pictou Harbour in Nova Scotia. In that harbour one day he and several of his fellow recruits jumped overboard and upon being pursued, John Stewart at last made his way to safety. Once upon shore, a fellow Scotsman named Cameron covered him with a long cloak and concealed him in his home until his pursuers returned to their ship.” When it was safe to do so, John Stewart made his way into inland Nova Scotia where he married, raised a family and lived until his death sometime later. He is an ancestor to some members of our crew.

Many were sympathetic to the deserters who had been forcibly impressed and certainly it did not go unchallenged. Maritimers and particularly Nova Scotians very often made their livelihoods upon the seas as privateers, merchantmen and fishermen, making them even more vulnerable to being taken by the Royal Navy. This resulted in many formal petitions coming from the citizens of Nova Scotia to stop the practice.

The Royal Navy always had problems recruiting enough men to man their ships and this was particularly true in times of war. It was therefore a common event for British subjects of the male persuasion to be impressed into service aboard Royal Navy ships of war. The first act legalizing this practice was passed during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I in 1563.

At the time, it was then known as “an act touching politick considerations for the maintenance of the Navy”. Although Britain ended the practice of impressing men in 1814 after the Napoleonic Wars, the last law reaffirming impressment was passed in 1835 and it was indeed legal to do so until the early 1900s.

This act gave parishes authority to apprentice boys to the sea. Often a man who was in debt for under 20 pounds would be given a choice to join the navy or go to debtors prison. Other petty criminals were also given this option. As you can imagine many chose to go to sea rather then subject themselves to the harsh conditions of prison, or even death, for what we might consider rather trivial offenses. For many of them, service in the Navy offered a far better way of life then what their previous existence had. As often as not they did not have experience at sea, and as a rule it was much preferred to take fishermen or other seamen who did. Sea-faring men were most often pressed into service by the press gangs.

Press gangs were either men sent ashore to take men at club point from the villages and force them to return to the ships, where they were forced into service, or they were hired men from the villages, who would be paid for each man they brought back to the ships. Being a member of a press gang was one way to avoid being pressed into service yourself. According to one article, during the Napoleonic Wars, 3000 men worked as members of press gangs who most often targeted men with the least social power, such as the poor, criminals, and private seaman or fishermen. I cannot imagine how the wives or children of these men must have felt watching their husbands and fathers being forcibly led away to the ships waiting in the harbour. The crews of merchantmen or privateers rescued at sea by the Royal Navy, were also often written into a ships books.

Impressment was a legal practice which was based upon the King’s power and right to call men to military service. There were however rules to be followed, many of which were ignored more often than not. For example, a man could not be forced to serve for longer than a period of five years, and could not be impressed more often than once.  Impressment was limited to men aged between eighteen and forty-five (although I have found variances in that age limit to fifty-five and beyond.  Foreigners could not be taken unless married to a Brit, or they had to have worked aboard a British merchant ship for at least two years.

The men were paid a small salary, given a pension and a share of the captured prize money, which most often was not paid until the end of a man’s service, or at the conclusion of war. This had the effect of course, of diminishing the rate of desertion. The longer a man served, the greater was the monetary interest vested, encouraging many to stay to the end. That doesn’t mean of course that many did not try to desert, and escape they did, in droves. Some say that Britain lost as many men as what were gained. A goodly portion of these men however, settled and even thrived in the way of life that was the Royal Navy. They served out their time, resigned to their fate and the British tradition of impressment.

Certainly, by our modern democratic standards of today, the act of pressing men into service, against their will, seems totaltarian and brutish; however, it is worth pointing out that such customs are not entirely alien to Western society. Consider, for a moment, the Vietnam War and both World Wars of the 20th century, where conscription was avidly pursued. In the Napoleonic Wars, as well, one might wonder whether the face of Europe would look different today, were the men of Great Britain not compelled to serve aboard His Majesty’s ships of war, and the tryant Bonaparte allowed to roam the seas, unchecked and unchallenged. As a woman of Dutch heritage, whose country was during that time period, firmly held under the heel of his tyranny, this is indeed food for thought.