"You are now a pack of dirty, meagre, ragamuffin fellows"
The Recruiting Sergeant's Speech, 1757

BE FREE OF YOUR NAGGING WIFE AND HAVE AN EASY LIFE AS A GENTLEMAN were key parts of the sale’s pitch of a Recruiting Sergeant during the Seven Years War. In 1757, the war had not gone well for the British Army and fear of being killed by the French was a deterrent to enlistment. In the Sergeant’s speech he gave to a gathering of townspeople (below), the recruiter deftly worked his way around the barrier.

Throughout most the 18th century, the key symbol for being a gentleman in society was the wearing of a sword. As every soldier wore a sword in England at that time, the Sergeant took full advantage of this by portraying soldiers as all gentlemen by the will of the King.

"Good People,

You have heard my drum, and now ‘tis my turn: ‘Tis a common saying ‘That the King can’t make a gentleman’ but look ye, he that uttered is first lied in his throat, for whoever can bestow arms, can make a gentleman. Now, simple as I stand here, the King has bestowed arms on me, wherefore, I am a gentleman and if it is my good will and pleasure, I can translate a score or two of you to the same honour, and what can you do better?

You are now a pack of dirty, meagre, ragamuffin fellows, slave to your masters, drudges to your wives, and property of gin-shops, ale-houses, pawn-brokers, and excise men. Whereas take but this piece of gold and handle this brown musket, your debts are discharged, the King’s your paymaster, your wives may hang themselves, and you may live at free quarters upon other people.

To make short of my story, you become as good gentlemen as I am, and upon the strength of your sword, may take the wall of a better man when you please. But perhaps you have no great stomach for fighting, you may fancy the French season their ragouts with Englishmen’s ears, and so forth: Never fear, threatened folks live longest and I myself have been in the service, man and boy, these five-and-twenty years, and never looked an enemy in the face.

Lord help you if Chelsea College was to be filled with none but such as had lost their eyes, ears or noses in the field of battle, the income might in turned over to Greenwich Hospital and the building itself be occupied by nurses and foundling children.

Don’t be afraid of fighting, then good people, Gentlemen I would call ye, but as I said before, you must first bear arms. You see, we land officers don’t press folks into the service, nor clap them under hatches. But I say no more. Step to the parade, attend a review, there you will see us in our glory. Let clean spatterdashes, powdered hair, drums and colours, speak for themselves, and if you have a mind to wet your whistles with his Majesty’s double beer in the meanwhile, follow me."

The sergeant skillfully framed the army institution for invalided pensioners, Chelsea Hospital, as an institute of higher learning and that it would grow empty from the want of wounded soldiers. Not the case for the Navy’s Greenwich Hospital he suggested. His criticism of the Navy for forcibly seizing and locking crew "under hatches" is curious. It may be he was competing with a Marine recruiting party. Marines had a distinctive advantage by sharing in prize money of any capture at sea, and their duties were viewed as easier than in the infantry.

The below satirical print of a Recruiting Sergeant appears to be almost inspired by the speech above. The Sergeant remarks "All Volunteers that join my Corps, shall be treated as Gentlemen & provided for accordingly." One perspective recruit responds "Damned hard to be a Slave all a Man’s life."

The Recruiting Serjeant, a Companion to British Liberty displayed.
(Published in 1770 but the military dress is pre-1768)

Also in the print, one soldier the recruiting party is illustrated slipping a coin in the pocket of a man in the crowd. This was to entrap the man later, by swearing he took the King’s shilling and enlisted. In 1757, this trick proved dangerous for one recruiting party in Uxbridge, England. A crowd assembled to support the tricked local, and the recruiters were chased out of town. Not willing to give up on their prey that easily, the recruiting party secured the assistance of a detachment of Horse Guards. This only enraged the mob, who threw stones and drove off the mounted troops. The officer in charge was cornered by the crowd in a house, and was forced to ask forgiveness and relinquish his rights on the ensnared recruit, "which satisfied the countrymen, and put an end to the whole affair."