Middy and Ensign
Fenn G. Manville 1831-1909
English
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Below is a summary of Middy and Ensign
Middy and Ensign, by George Manville Fenn.
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This was the first Manville Fenn book I ever encountered, and I loved it
at first sight. So much so that I had put nearly fifty of his books on
the website within a couple of years, although, writing in 2005, two
years ago I had never heard of Manville Fenn.
HMS Startler is on patrol up the Parang River in the Malay peninsula.
On board are the midshipman, Bob Roberts, and the ensign, Tom Long.
Their friendly bickering goes on throughout the book. Various tropical
indispositions trouble them, and also of course the insect life in the
air and saurian life in the river is of no help. It is hard to know
which of the natives are on their side, and which not, and there is a
great deal of two-facedness. We are introduced to various fruits. A
soldier on their own side is prone to fall asleep when on sentry duty,
and the little fort they build to give the womenfolk a little more room
than aboard ship, is very nearly captured and destroyed.
There are various trips for fishing and shooting purposes, and we learn
a great deal about the natural history of the area while these
expeditions are in progress.
One of the reasons why some of the natives do not like the British
Protectorate is that normally any traffic passing up and down the river
does so only on payment of a toll to the local chieftains, who in turn
are at loggerheads with each other in dispute of the right to exact
tolls.
It's a very exciting book, and you'll probably learn a lot by reading
it.
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MIDDY AND ENSIGN, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
CHAPTER ONE.
ON BOARD THE "STARTLER".
The close of a hot day on board Her Majesty's ship "Startler," whose
engines kept up a regular pulsation as the screw-propeller churned the
water astern into golden and orange foam. The dappled sky and the
rippled sea were a blaze of colour; crimson, scarlet, burnished copper,
orange chrome, dead, and flashing gold,--all were there, on cloud edge
and wave slope, mingled with purples, and greens, and blues, as the sun
slowly descended to his rest.
There had been a general disposition all day long to lie under awnings,
and pant "like tired dogs," so Bob Roberts the midshipman said; but now
officers and men, in the lightest of garments, were eagerly looking for
the cool evening breeze, and leaning over the bulwarks, gazing at the
wondrous sunset sky and gorgeous sea.
The deck of the clean, smart-looking vessel had a very picturesque
aspect, dotted as it was with groups of officers and men; for in
addition to the crew, the "Startler" carried four companies of Her
Majesty's somethingth foot, the escort of the British Resident and his
suite, bound for Campong Allee, the chief town of Rajah Hamet, on the
Parang River, west coast of the Malay peninsula.
The Resident was to be the help and adviser of the Mohammedan potentate,
who had sought the protection of the British Government; and to fix him
in his position, and save him from the assaults of the various inimical
petty rajahs around, the corvette was to lie for some months in the
river, and the residency was to be turned into a fort, garrisoned by the
troops under Major Sandars.
Bob Roberts, a fair, good-looking, curly-headed lad of sixteen, was
standing with his back leaned against the bulwarks, his cap thrust back,
and his hands deep in his pockets, staring defiantly across the deck at
a lad of about a year or so older, who, as he stood very stiff and
upright by the cabin ladder, returned the stare with interest.
The latter had just buckled on his sword, and, in spite of the heat,
buttoned up his undress coatee to the chin, ready for the short spell of
drill which he knew would take place before the officers dined; and
after giving the finishing-touch to his gloves, he rather ostentatiously
raised his sword, then hanging to the full length of its slings, and
hooked it on to his belt.
"What a jolly shame it is that we should only carry a beggarly little
dirk," said Bob Roberts to himself, as he tried to look sneeringly at
the young ensign before him; for the latter came across the deck with
rather a swaggering stride, and stood before the midshipman.
"Well, young Jack tar," he said, with a touch of contempt in his tone.
"Well, young Pipeclay," retorted the middy. "I say, how tightly you've
laced your stays to-day. Mind where you go, or you'll get some pitch on
your lovely uniform. My word, how handsome you look!"
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