Note 622 — Chapter XXXIX · THE ARMY AND NAVY.

What were the rank and file of this period? Hear a contemporary opinion.[622] 'A Foot Soldier is commonly a Man, who for the sake of wearing a Sword, and the Honour of being term'd a Gentleman, is coax'd from a Handicraft Trade, whereby he might Live comfortably, to bear Arms for his King and Country, whereby he has the hopes of nothing but to Live Starvingly. His Lodging is as near Heaven as his Quarters can raise him; and his Soul generally is as near Hell as a Profligate Life can sink him. To speak without Swearing, he thinks a Scandal to his Post; and makes many a Meal upon Tobacco, which keeps the inside of his Carcase as Nasty as his Shirt. He's a Champion for the Church, because he Fights for Religion, tho' he never hears Prayers except they be Read upon a Drum Head. He often leads a Sober Life against his Will; but he never can pass by a Brandy shop with 2d. in his Pocket, for he as Naturally loves Strong Waters as a Turk loves Coffee.... He is a Man of Undaunted Courage; and dreads no Enemies so much as he does the Wooden Horse, which makes him hate to be mounted; and rather chuses to be a Foot Soldier. He's a Man, that when upon guard, always keeps his word, and obeys his Officer as Indians do the Devil, not thro' Love but Fear; ... When once he has been in a Battle it's a hard matter to get him out of it; for where ever he comes he's always talking of the Action, in which he was posted in the greatest danger; and seems to know more of the matter than the General. Scars, tho' got in Drunken Quarrels, he makes Badges of his Bravery; and tells you they were Wounds receiv'd in some Engagement, tho' perhaps given him for his Sawciness. He's one that loves Fighting no more than other Men; tho' perhaps a dozen of Drink and an affront, will make him draw his Sword; yet a Pint, and a good Word, will make him put it up again. Let him be in never so many Campaigns in Flanders he contracts but few Habits of a Dutchman, for you shall oftener see him with his Fingers in his Neck than his Hands in his Pockets. He has the Pleasure once a Week, when he receives his Subsistence, of boasting he has Money in his Breeches; and for all he is a Soldier owes no man a Groat, which is likely enough to be true, because no Body will trust him. Hunger and Lousiness are the two Distempers that Afflict him; and Idleness and Scratching the two Medicines that Palliate his Miseries. If he spends Twenty years in Wars, and lives to be Forty, perhaps he may get a Halbert; and if he Survives Three Score, an Hospital. The best end he can expect to make, is to Die in the Bed of Honour; and the greatest Living Marks of his Bravery, to recommend him at once to the World's Praise and Pity, are Crippled Limbs, with which I shall leave him to beg a better Lively Hood.'