Godlessness and seafaring often went together in a way of life that sundered family ties and interrupted the rhythm of religious practice. Conventional naval history, while noting that ships’ companies had prayers and chaplains afloat and religious institutions ashore, constructs its narrative of manning, training, tactics and operational deployment generally without religion – and misses something significant.

In a bold incursion into new territory this book demonstrates how religion became interwoven with the social history of the navy and examines what it did for professional ethics. It builds on standard ways of measuring religious practice, such as the provision of chaplains and the regularity of divine worship, to reach new assessments of its influence. Gordon Taylor (1978) gave a detailed picture of naval chaplains, their recruitment, conditions of employment and their record of service; Roald Kverndal (1986) analysed the origins of global mission to seafarers in the nineteenth century, and thanks to a subsequent corpus of research we now have a clearer understanding of what was done for their moral and spiritual betterment. We know well enough that prayers were said, sermons preached and tracts given out – but was anyone taking notice? Religious practice could be enforced (to a degree) by regulation, but evangelical hopes always reached beyond this, to the point where individuals were willing to change belief and behaviour – all that the term conversion implies. Did the message meet with some degree of acceptance, with sailors claiming altered convictions and demonstrating new values? If so, how was naval corporate life affected? It is time to move the discourse on from provision to response.

My first book, Evangelicals in the Royal Navy 1775–1815: Blue Lights and Psalm-Singers (Boydell Press, 2008), analysed how evangelicalism lodged itself amongst both officers and men in the Napoleonic War, modifying regulations and conditions of service. But would this survive the war’s end? The present work examines what went on to be a significant reforming trend. Seamen of the lower deck (as the navy termed its workforce who lacked officer-status) were likely to be labelled ‘psalm-singers’ if they showed marked piety, whereas similarly inclined officers were either called the same or – perhaps more kindly – ‘blue lights’.