Erika Carbonara
Readers of Dianne Dugaw’s catalogue of Warrior Women broadside ballads will immediately pick up on the keywords “impressment,” “press gang,” and “pressed” that run throughout the catalogue, as at least 18 of her 113 ballads explicitly involve this trope. Though these terms might not be familiar, readers are likely aware of the concept of impressment: being forced into military or naval service without consent. In Europe this practice occurred largely during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and was generally used during times of low voluntary recruitment. Within Dugaw’s catalogue, this term appears chiefly in ballads that take place in Britain, as this draft-like procedure occurred primarily there. Though impressment bears similarities to both the draft and conscription, it does have some marked distinctions. Primarily, both the draft and conscription are performed and enforced by the government, whereas impressment in this period was carried out by private, individual members of society, even including gruntled fathers who were unhappy with their daughter’s betrothed or captains in need of seamen for upcoming voyages. Those in need of recruitment could see an impressment officer, who was essentially a professional impressor, to help fill their quotas. As readers of Dugaw’s catalogue have certainly noticed, impressment was traditionally carried out by men and enacted upon other, non-consenting men. However, ballads such as “The Female Pressgang” provide a surprising, yet enlightening, view into just who could be pressed, by whom, and how this process happened, though certainly with a stylized, fictive bent. In this brief essay, I will first outline the practice of impressment historically, situating impressment within the larger context of normative military practices. I aim to draw the reader’s attention to the distinctions between impressment practices before 1700 and after 1700, as notions of masculine consent and the military change drastically within this timeframe; the ballads found within Dugaw’s catalogue provide poignant depictions of these differences. Second, I will turn to specific examples from Dugaw’s catalogue of ballads, paying attention to ballads that conform to the normative usage of impressment (male-on-male) and those that deviate (female-on-male, male-on-female). Through understanding the norms and irregularities of impressment, readers will be better equipped to contextualize and historicize the ballads in Dugaw’s catalogue.
In a 1760 publication entitled “An Essay on the Pernicious Practice of Impressing Seamen into the King’s Service” merely attributed to “a merchant of London,” the author describes pressing as: “A Method in itself unnatural in a free Country, and produ[c]tive of innumerable Evils; and which has nothing but a barbarous Custom to recommend it, unless we chuse to call into its Aid the Word Necessity, and plead it has no Law” (3). Not only does this anonymous merchant disavow the practice of pressing, he continues on to make numerous suggestions for how to better enlist soldiers voluntarily to the military. The 1760 essay is an important artifact for many reasons. First, the personal diaries and letters of sailors from the period are somewhat scarce. Likely this is for a multitude of reasons, but a simplified explanation might be that sailors occupied the lower margins of society, thus marking their writing as inconsequential for collection and preservation. Second, most contemporary works that do discuss impressment see it as a necessary evil; these are largely governmental “acts” that were circulated for various reasons. The anonymous merchant of this essay leaves no space for a misinterpretation of his opinion: he views impressment as an act that is in direct antithesis to the values of a free country. Finally, we must consider the timeframe in which this essay was circulated. During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, sailors had a reasonably comfortable life on sea, without much of the violence and fear perhaps associated with a seafaring lifestyle. However, during the eighteenth century, this changed drastically. Violence and coercion became commonplace, which makes the publication of this merchant’s essay quite apropos. I will return to these changes within the British military momentarily, but I want to remind readers that it is important to look at these individual voices that portray many of the realities and horrors of impressment that cannot be found in governmental acts. While few individual accounts of impressment remain, those such as the merchant’s are an important reminder that this practice was enacted against real, living people without their consent. Similarly, while the ballads addressing impressment are generally anonymous, their attitudes toward the practice can reveal popular opinions as a counterpoint to the official government stance.
It is useful to situate the practice of impressment within the larger scope of the British military. While early modern sailing and maritime labors are closely linked to both capitalistic and imperial pursuits, sailors themselves had a wide array of opinions regarding their time at sea and reasons for enlisting. For many of them, serving their country was not only an opportunity of employment, but also a potential pathway toward prestige and honor. In her 2016 article “Sailors and the Early Modern British Empire: Labor, Nation, and Identity at Sea,” Eleanor Hubbard esteems the role that sailors played within British expansion: “Willingly or not, seamen also served on naval vessels, projecting state power around the world. Few Britons were so profoundly affected by early modern globalization or played such a large role in its development” (348). In a very real way, sailors were responsible for obtaining both financial and nationalistic gains for Britain. Though sailors’ labor was responsible for accruing wealth for the nation, scholars have largely disagreed on what sailors themselves would have earned in exchange for their labor. Hubbard claims: “Throughout the period, poor men found greater social mobility at sea than on land, and Peter Earle finds that sailing could be financially rewarding, though difficult and risky work. Seamen were not the dregs of society” (349). In contrast, Frank Tallett in his 2013 book chapter “Soldiers in Western Europe, c. 1500-1790,” states: “The readiness of men to volunteer for military service can be chiefly explained by the overcrowded state of the labour market. For most volunteers, the army was an employer of last resort, and they signed on only because there was nothing better to be had” (144). These different attitudes regarding impressment can be explicitly seen in Dugaw’s ballad catalogue; for example, “William of the Man-of-War” depicts this dichotomy between being compelled to sea, while enjoying the financial benefits:
Compell’d he was, by fate and fortune,
(7-10)
To sail on board of a man-of-war.
Said this young sailor, I must leave you,
Our sovereign’s orders I must obey.
While it is unclear if William is actually impressed to war or if he simply feels compelled to fight for his country, this ballad still provides an excellent depiction of the paradoxical nature of going to war: it is both daunting and full of potential. Despite the myriad of depictions regarding the state of a naval career in early modern England, there are a few things we can say with certainty: 1) military and naval life were difficult mentally, emotionally, and physically and 2) pay rates, conditions of employment, and expectations of and treatment by employers and captains varies wildly across the early modern period and beyond. They are contingent upon a multitude of factors, which makes a simple overarching statement about the state of the military in early modern England dangerously specious.
It is clear from the anonymous merchant’s essay that impressment was a term rife with societal implications and disagreements. Though the government and captains sometimes saw impressment as a necessity to fill their ranks, this sentiment was not echoed by the average citizen who had to grapple with the very real possibility of impressment. Frank Tallett argues that the precedence for involuntary drafting rests on the premise that one owes his country his military allegiance: “In different ways, all [governments] drafted recruits forcibly by making use of the generally accepted – if vague and ill-defined – notion that adult male subjects had some responsibility to bear arms in defence of their homeland” (136). Tallett further notes that under Henry VIII, English citizens with a certain amount of land would have been expected to retain weapons and armor at the ready. However, there were drastic changes that occurred within approaches to military recruitment in England after the middle of the seventeenth century. Prior to 1650, involuntary recruitment was largely reserved for criminals or other men on the fringes of society: “Governments also forcibly drafted men whom they regarded as harmful to society or otherwise useless. This was not a novel expedient: up to 12 per cent of men serving in English forces between 1339 and 1361 may have been criminals” (Tallett 137). However, Tallett is also quick to assert the importance of minimizing involuntary recruits to military officers during this period, as willing soldiers traditionally make better soldiers. However, during the very end of the seventeenth century and for the majority of the eighteenth century, involuntary recruitment rose. One ready explanation for this is that the sheer volume of men enlisted in the military had to increase during this period as the population itself was on an upward trend. Not only was the population growing along with England’s desire for nationalistic expansion, England was involved in numerous international wars and domestic disputes. According to Nicholas Rogers in his 2007 book, The Press Gang: Naval Impressment and Its Opponents in Georgian Britain: “Britain was at war approximately one in every two years from 1690-1815” (5). The necessity for recruitment is made apparent by this staggering statistic. If recruitment could not happen voluntarily, then impressment was the unfortunate, but necessary, outcome.
These trends are exceedingly visible in the Warrior Women ballads of Dugaw’s catalogue. Of the 18 ballads that contain some element of impressment, only two of them are circulated between 1650 and 1700 (“The Valiant Virgin” and “The Maiden Sailor”). The fact that only two of these ballads are composed prior to the seventeenth century is telling; impressment as a practice had not yet really taken hold at this time, which is why the term is found most prevalently in the ballads written after 1700. However, I wish to pause briefly to analyze these ballads, as both use impressment in unique ways that undercut the practice itself. In “The Valiant Virgin,” a young farmer is pressed to sea by his lover’s father who disapproves of their relationship. As is the case in many of these ballads in the Warrior Women genre, she decides to follow him. However, the ballad is not clear on how this following occurs:
The Spring came, and the Pressing
(33-38)
was every where begun;
Fierce fights at Sea this Couple
did valiantly indure,
As fast as one did aime to kill,
the other striv’d to cure.
Lines 33 and 34 make clear that the practice of impressment has begun, which is presumably how the young farmer becomes enlisted. However, at line 35 the “couple” is immediately invoked, indicating that the gentlewoman is present. Because there is no distinction between his enlistment and hers, it is certainly a strong possibility that she dons her surgeon’s garb with the intention of being pressed to war with her lover.
This possibility of the woman’s impressment becomes a reality in “The Maiden Sailor.” In this ballad, the crossdressing of the woman occurs prior to the ballad’s beginning. The narrator states: “Come listen to my ditty / The like was never known Sir, / a Jest both true and pretty;” (2-4). This context already suggests a frivolity or perhaps even untruth to the story the narrator is about to unfold. The notion of impressment occurs in the very first line of the second stanza: “This Maiden she was press’d, Sir, / and so was many more,” (13-14). In this instance, there is no doubt that the cross-dressed woman is the one who is impressed. Furthermore, the language of line 14 is ambiguous. If we are to associate “many more” with the subject of line 13, “Maiden,” this suggests that many more maidens were impressed in addition to the protagonist. Of course, a more traditional view of these lines would simply be that other sailors were impressed with her. Regardless of how we read this specific line, it is clear that a woman sailor is impressed in this ballad. That these two ballads are the only ones that include impressment prior to 1700 is interesting when considered in conjunction with the analysis provided here. In both instances, impressment is certainly a possibility, a term that citizens were familiar with; however, in these two ballads, impressment is not vilified, but rather looked upon almost as a farce, something as comical as a woman enlisting in the military.
What is particularly poignant when considering these two ballads is the relationship between women themselves and the practice of pressing and press gangs. Though there is historical data that confirms women did fight in the British army and the Royal Navy, the more common method of military involvement for women was to protest certain military practices, such as impressment. “Taking on the press gang, moreover, was not exclusively a male pursuit. Women swarmed the recruiting officers when they arrived to impress and sometimes dissuaded men from entering the service. … Women were sometimes brazenly confrontational to the gangs” (Rogers 41). As the practice of impressment grew over the eighteenth century, a woman’s involvement in military affairs became less farcical and amusing and more of a common practice, but still something that could be manipulated for the sake of public amusement. Ballads such as “The Female Pressgang,” in which “these stout females did press full fourte[en]” (64), circulated primarily during the early nineteenth century. Like “The Valiant Virgin” and “The Maiden Sailor,” “The Female Pressgang” toys with the notion of women’s place in the military. As many times women were staunch opponents of impressment, this depiction of a pressgang entirely composed of women fits squarely with ballad culture in which ballads were humorous, bawdy songs that could easily unite a rowdy bar crowd.
Despite these depictions, these three ballads are outliers within Dugaw’s catalogue. More normative depictions of impressment can be found in ballads such as “Jack Monroe,” in which the titular character is impressed by his lover’s wealthy father because of his disdain for her lover’s lowly standing: “It’s here is twenty guineas I give unto thee, / If that you’ll press young Jack to the wars of Germany” (13-14). After Jack’s impressment, his lover arrays herself in men’s clothing and follows after him. The ballad concludes with the pair’s safe return from war, as they are lauded for their military exploits and quickly united in marriage. Though not all impressment ballads end so positively, “Jack Monroe” is a good example of one that depicts a more normative method of impressment and, furthermore, one that could be used for recruitment propaganda. The earliest possible date of publication for “Jack Monroe” is 1774, which coincides with Britain’s need to recruit more men. By framing the naval experience in a positive light that culminates in wealth and marriage, “Jack Monroe” works as subliminal propaganda: “Prints revealed popular admirals sharing a jar with the hardy tar. Pub songs celebrated his [the British seaman] infectious optimism and courage in the face of the enemy” (Rogers 105). This optimism is apparent in “Jack Monroe,” as Jack and his wife are extolled as “the heroes from the wars of Germany” (47). Such positive framing of the naval experience is a clear tactic to increase voluntary recruitment.
Although the history of the British military is complex and multifaceted, the practice of impressment was a central tenet of British military practices, particularly in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, as British expansion and involvement in wars necessitated an increase in military enrollment. When the demand for sailors was greater than voluntary enrollment, captains took to impressment to meet the needs of their ships. As seen in Dianne Dugaw’s catalogue of Warrior Women ballads, impressment was often utilized by fathers who were unhappy with their daughter’s love interest. Though this is the more normative depiction of impressment within Dugaw’s catalogue, there are outliers, such as “The Female Pressgang” in which notions of femininity, military involvement, and a woman’s place within the military are brought together in a farcical depiction of cultural trends. By analyzing the occurrence of impressment within these ballads, readers will notice clear distinctions between those ballads published prior to 1700 and those published after 1700, which makes Dugaw’s catalogue a unique artifact that can be utilized to trace these transitions within the British military.
Works Cited
“An Essay on the Pernicious Practice of Impressing Seamen into the King’s Service.” London, 1760. Eighteenth Century Collections Online, http://find.gale.com/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId=ECCO&userGroupName= lom_waynesu&tabID=T001&docId=CW3305703771&type=multipage&contentSet=EC COArticles&version=1.0&docLevel=FASCIMILE.
Hubbard, Eleanor. “Sailors and the Early Modern British Empire: Labor, Nation, and Identity at Sea.” History Compass, vol. 14, no. 8, 2016, pp. 348–358.
“Jack Monroe,” Dugaw Catalogue, 613-622.
Rogers, Nicholas. The Press Gang: Naval Impressment and Its Opponents in Georgian Britain. Continuum Books, 2007.
Tallett, Frank. “Soldiers in Western Europe, c. 1500-1790.” Fighting for a Living: A Comparative Study of Military Labour 1500-2000, Amsterdam University Press, 2013, pp. 135–167.
“The Maiden Sailor,” The Dugaw Catalogue, 811-813.
“The Female Pressgang,” The Dugaw Catalogue, 872-875.
“The Valiant Virgin,” The Dugaw Catalogue, 598-604.
“William of the Man-of-War,” The Dugaw Catalogue, 426-429.