mess-cloth

Updated: May 29, 2025

We were assembled at supper one evening when I noticed certain winks and silent hints tipped to the cook, who presided. He was a little, oily fellow, who had once kept an oyster-cellar ashore; he bore me a grudge. Looking down on the mess-cloth, he observed that some fellows never knew when their room was better than their company.

Herman Melville - White Jacket: or, the World on a Man-of-War

Sometimes, with his mess-cloth a square of painted canvas set out on deck between the guns, garnished with pots, and pans, and kids, you see the mess-cook seated on a matchtub at its head, his trowser legs rolled up and arms bared, presiding over the convivial party. "Now, men, you can't have any butter to-day. I'm saving it up for to-morrow. You don't know the value of butter, men.

Herman Melville - White Jacket: or, the World on a Man-of-War

This mess was principally composed of the headmost men of the gun-deck; and, out of a pardonable self-conceit, they called themselves the "Forty-two-pounder Club;" meaning that they were, one and all, fellows of large intellectual and corporeal calibre. Their mess-cloth was well located.

Herman Melville - White Jacket: or, the World on a Man-of-War

After my week of office, the mess gradually changed their behaviour to me; they cut me to the heart; they became cold and reserved; seldom or never addressed me at meal-times without invidious allusions to my duff, and also to my jacket, and its dripping in wet weather upon the mess-cloth. However, I had no idea that anything serious, on their part, was brewing; but alas! so it turned out.

Herman Melville - White Jacket: or, the World on a Man-of-War

In very warm weather this Shanks would sit at the foot of the mess-cloth, fanning himself with the front flap of his frock or shirt, which he inelegantly wore over his trousers. Jack Chase, the President of the Club, frequently remonstrated against this breach of good manners; but the steady-cook had somehow contracted the habit, and it proved incurable.

Herman Melville - White Jacket: or, the World on a Man-of-War

Eight bells had struck. The boatswain and his mates had piped the hands to dinner; my mess-cloth was set out, and my messmates were assembled, knife in hand, all ready to precipitate themselves upon the devoted duff: Waiting at the grand cookery till my turn came, I received the bag of pudding, and gallanting it into the mess, proceeded to loosen the string.

Herman Melville - White Jacket: or, the World on a Man-of-War