CHAPTER VII.
BREAKFAST, DINNER, AND SUPPER.
Not only is the dinner-table a criterion of rank on board a man-of-war,but also the dinner hour. He who dines latest is the greatest man; andhe who dines earliest is accounted the least. In a flag-ship, theCommodore generally dines about four or five o'clock; the Captain aboutthree; the Lieutenants about two; while _the people_ (by which phrasethe common seamen are specially designated in the nomenclature of thequarter-deck) sit down to their salt beef exactly at noon.
Thus it will be seen, that while the two estates of sea-kings andsea-lords dine at rather patrician hours--and thereby, in the long run,impair their digestive functions--the sea-commoners, or _the people_,keep up their constitutions, by keeping up the good old-fashioned,Elizabethan, Franklin-warranted dinner hour of twelve.
Twelve o'clock! It is the natural centre, key-stone, and very heart ofthe day. At that hour, the sun has arrived at the top of his hill; andas he seems to hang poised there a while, before coming down on theother side, it is but reasonable to suppose that he is then stopping todine; setting an eminent example to all mankind. The rest of the day iscalled _afternoon_; the very sound of which fine old Saxon word conveysa feeling of the lee bulwarks and a nap; a summer sea--soft breezescreeping over it; dreamy dolphins gliding in the distance. _Afternoon!_the word implies, that it is an after-piece, coming after the granddrama of the day; something to be taken leisurely and lazily. But howcan this be, if you dine at five? For, after all, though Paradise Lostbe a noble poem, and we men-of-war's men, no doubt, largely partake inthe immortality of the immortals yet, let us candidly confess it,shipmates, that, upon the whole, our dinners are the most momentousattains of these lives we lead beneath the moon. What were a daywithout a dinner? a dinnerless day! such a day had better be a night.
Again: twelve o'clock is the natural hour for us men-of-war's men todine, because at that hour the very time-pieces we have invented arriveat their terminus; they can get no further than twelve; whenstraightway they continue their old rounds again. Doubtless, Adam andEve dined at twelve; and the Patriarch Abraham in the midst of hiscattle; and old Job with his noon mowers and reapers, in that grandplantation of Uz; and old Noah himself, in the Ark, must have gone todinner at precisely _eight bells_ (noon), with all his floatingfamilies and farm-yards.
But though this antediluvian dinner hour is rejected by modernCommodores and Captains, it still lingers among "_the people_" undertheir command. Many sensible things banished from high life find anasylum among the mob.
Some Commodores are very particular in seeing to it, that no man onboard the ship dare to dine after his (the Commodore's,) own dessert iscleared away.--Not even the Captain. It is said, on good authority,that a Captain once ventured to dine at five, when the Commodore's hourwas four. Next day, as the story goes, that Captain received a privatenote, and in consequence of that note, dined for the future athalf-past three.
Though in respect of the dinner hour on board a man-of-war, _thepeople_ have no reason to complain; yet they have just cause, almostfor mutiny, in the outrageous hours assigned for their breakfast andsupper.
Eight o'clock for breakfast; twelve for dinner; four for supper; and nomeals but these; no lunches and no cold snacks. Owing to thisarrangement (and partly to one watch going to their meals before theother, at sea), all the meals of the twenty-four hours are crowded intoa space of less than eight! Sixteen mortal hours elapse between supperand breakfast; including, to one watch, eight hours on deck! This isbarbarous; any physician will tell you so. Think of it! Before theCommodore has dined, you have supped. And in high latitudes, insummer-time, you have taken your last meal for the day, and five hours,or more, daylight to spare!
Mr. Secretary of the Navy, in the name of _the people_, you shouldinterpose in this matter. Many a time have I, a maintop-man, foundmyself actually faint of a tempestuous morning watch, when all myenergies were demanded--owing to this miserable, unphilosophical modeof allotting the government meals at sea. We beg you, Mr. Secretary,not to be swayed in this matter by the Honourable Board of Commodores,who will no doubt tell you that eight, twelve, and four are the properhours for _the people_ to take their Meals; inasmuch, as at these hoursthe watches are relieved. For, though this arrangement makes a neaterand cleaner thing of it for the officers, and looks very nice andsuperfine on paper; yet it is plainly detrimental to health; and intime of war is attended with still more serious consequences to thewhole nation at large. If the necessary researches were made, it wouldperhaps be found that in those instances where men-of-war adopting theabove-mentioned hours for meals have encountered an enemy at night,they have pretty generally been beaten; that is, in those cases wherethe enemies' meal times were reasonable; which is only to be accountedfor by the fact that _the people_ of the beaten vessels were fightingon an empty stomach instead of a full one.