In the time before steamships, or then more frequently than now, a
stroller along the docks of any considerable seaport would occasionally
have his attention arrested by a group of bronzed marines, man-of-war’s
men or merchant sailors in holiday attire ashore on liberty. In certain
instances they would flank, or, like a bodyguard, quite surround some
superior figure of their own class, moving along with them like
Aldebaran among the lesser lights of his constellation. That signal
object was the ‘Handsome Sailor’ of the less prosaic time alike of the
military and merchant navies. With no perceptible trace of the
vainglorious about him, rather with the off-hand unaffectedness of
natural regality, he seemed to accept the spontaneous homage of his
shipmates. A somewhat remarkable instance recurs to me. In Liverpool,
now half a century ago, I saw under the shadow of the great dingy
street-wall of Prince’s Dock (an obstruction long since removed) a
common sailor, so intensely black that he must needs have been a native
African of the unadulterate blood of Ham. A symmetric figure much above
the average height. The two ends of a gay silk handkerchief thrown loose
about the neck danced upon the displayed ebony of his chest; in his ears
were big hoops of gold, and a Scotch Highland bonnet with a tartan band
set off his shapely head.
It was a hot noon in July; and his face, lustrous with perspiration,
beamed with barbaric good-humour. In jovial sallies right and left, his
white teeth flashing into view, he rollicked along, the centre of a
company of his shipmates. These were made up of such an assortment of
tribes and complexions as would have well fitted them to be marched up
by Anacharsis Cloots before the bar of the first French Assembly as
Representatives of the Human Race. At each spontaneous tribute rendered
by the wayfarers to this black pagod of a fellow--the tribute of a pause
and stare, and less frequent an exclamation--the motley retinue showed
that they took that sort of pride in the evoker of it which the Assyrian
priests doubtless showed for their grand sculptured Bull when the
faithful prostrated themselves. To return----
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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