To man these ships, &c., some 100,000 men were needful, and as they would not come of their own will, they must be taken vi et armis. Impressing men for the King’s Naval Service had always been in use since the fourteenth century, so that it was no novelty; but it must have been hard indeed for a sailor coming from a long voyage (and they had long voyages in those days—no rushing three times round the world in a twelvemonth, and time to spare), full of hope to find his wife and children well, to be bodily seized, without even so much as landing, and sent on board a King’s ship, to serve for an indefinite period. A few extracts from the newspapers will show what a press was like.
Morning Post, January 21, 1801: “The press for seamen on the river and on shore is warmer than was ever known in any former war.”
Times, March 11, 1803: “The impress service, particularly in the Metropolis, has proved uncommonly productive in the number of excellent seamen. The returns at the Admiralty of the seamen impressed on Tuesday night amounted to 1,080, of whom no less than two-thirds are considered prime hands. At Portsmouth, Portsea, Gosport, and Cowes, a general press took place the same night. Every merchant ship in the harbours and at Spithead, was stripped of its hands, and all the watermen deemed fit for His Majesty’s service were carried off. Upwards of six hundred seamen were collected in consequence of the promptitude of the measures adopted.... Government, we understand, relies upon increasing our naval force with ten thousand seamen, either volunteers, or impressed men, in less than a fortnight, in consequence of the exertions which are making in all the principal ports. Those collected on the river, and in London, will be instantly conveyed to Chatham, Sheerness, and Portsmouth. Several frigates and gun brigs have sailed for the islands of Jersey and Guernsey with impress warrants.”
Times, May 9, 1803: “On Sunday afternoon two gallies, each having an officer and press-gang in it, in endeavouring to impress some persons at Hungerford Stairs, were resisted by a party of coal-heavers belonging to a wharf adjoining, who assailed them with coals and glass-bottles; several of the gang were cut in a most shocking manner, on their heads and legs, and a woman who happened to be in a wherry, was wounded in so dreadful a manner, that it is feared she will not survive.... The impress on Saturday, both above and below Bridge, was the hottest that has been for some time; the boats belonging to the ships at Deptford were particularly active, and it is supposed they obtained upwards of two hundred men, who were regulated (sic) on board the Enterprize till late at night, and sent in the different tenders to the Nore, to be put on board such ships whose crews are not completed.... The impressed men, for whom there was not room on board the Enterprize, on Saturday were put into the Tower, and the gates shut, to prevent any of them effecting their escape.”
Morning Herald, December 11, 1804: “A very smart press took place yesterday morning upon the river, and the west part of the town. A great many useful hands were picked up.”
Morning Post, May 8, 1805: “The embargo to which we alluded in our Paper of Monday has taken place. At two o’clock yesterday afternoon, orders for that purpose were issued at the Custom House, and upwards of a thousand able seamen are said to have been already procured for the Navy, from on board the ships in the river.”
Morning Post, April 11, 1808: “On Saturday the hottest press ever known took place on the Thames, when an unprecedented number of able seamen were procured for His Majesty’s service. A flotilla of small smacks was surrounded by one of the gangs, and the whole of the hands, amounting to upwards of a hundred, were carried off.”
These raids on seamen were not always conducted on “rose-water” principles, and the slightest resistance met with a cracked crown, or worse. Witness a case tried at the Kingston Assizes, March 22, 1800, where John Salmon, a midshipman in His Majesty’s navy, was indicted for the wilful murder of William Jones. The facts of the case were as follow. The prisoner was an officer on board His Majesty’s ship Dromedary, lying in the Thames off Deptford. He and his lieutenant, William Wright (who was charged with being present, and assisting), went on shore on the night of the 19th of February, with nine of the crew, on the impress service; Wright had a pistol, Salmon a dirk, one of the sailors a hanger, and the rest were unarmed. After waiting some time in search of prey, the deceased, and one Brown, accompanied by two women, passed by; they were instantly seized upon, and carried to a public-house, from whence they endeavoured to effect their escape; a scuffle ensued, in the course of which the deceased called out he had been pricked. At this time three men had hold of him—a sufficient proof that he was overpowered—and whoever wounded him, most probably did so with malice prepense. The poor fellow was taken, in this state, to a boat, and thence on board a ship, where, for a considerable time, he received no medical assistance. The women, who were with him, accompanied him to the boat, and he told them that the midshipman had wounded him, and that he was bleeding to death; that every time he fetched his breath, he felt the air rushing in at the wound. He was afterwards taken to the hospital, and there, in the face of death, declared he had been murdered by the midshipman. The case was thoroughly proved as to the facts, but the prisoner was acquitted of the capital charge of murder, and I do not know whether he was ever prosecuted for manslaughter.
Men thus obtained, could scarcely be expected to be contented with their lot, and, therefore, we are not surprised to hear of more than one mutiny—the marvel is there were so few. Of course, they are not pleasant episodes in history, but they have to be written about.
The first in this decade (for the famous mutiny at the Nore occurred in the previous century), was that on board the Danäe, 20 guns, Captain Lord Proby. It is difficult to accurately ascertain the date, for it is variously given in different accounts, as March 16th, 17th, and 27th, 1800; but, at all events, in that month the Danäe was cruising off the coast of France, with some thirty of her crew, and officers, absent in prizes, and having on board some Frenchmen who had been captured on board the privateer Bordelais, and had subsequently entered the English service. On board was one Jackson (who had been secretary to Parker, the ringleader of the Nore Mutiny in 1798), who had been tried for participation in that mutiny and acquitted, since when, he had borne a good character, refusing the rank of petty officer which had been offered to him, giving as a reason, that being an impressed man, he held himself at liberty to make his escape whenever he had a chance, whereas, if he took rank, he should consider himself a volunteer.