The Wasp, 1913 · page 352 of 364
The Wasp — 1913 — page 352: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains serialized fiction rather than a political cartoon. It narrates a naval battle featuring English ships—notably the *Breda* and *Ruby*—fighting against a larger enemy force (nine ships). Key figures mentioned include John Benbow (described as lucky and valorous but angered by cowardly captains), James Burnham (commanding the *Breda's* guns with skill despite heavy casualties), and Henry Todd (a cockpit worker who joins the gun crews). The text celebrates British naval courage and gunnery expertise under extreme conditions—one-third of Burnham's men dead or disabled, yet maintaining effective fire. The narrative emphasizes individual valor and duty, with other English ships criticized for hanging back rather than engaging. Without seeing illustrations, I cannot identify specific satirical targets or cartoons, but this appears to be a jingoistic adventure narrative typical of The Wasp's era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE WASP 345 The luck of John Benbow was only equaled by _ his valor—and by his rage against his craven cap- tains. His spars continued to stand as if by magic; and every broadside of his wrought havoc to the enemy aloft and below. The Ruby was not quite so fortunate, and just before sunset drew aside from the core of the unequal fight. The Ruby returned to the fight at dawn, and all day the two did battle against the nine, while the other English ships hung off and watched. By the third morning James Burnham was in command of all the guns on the Breda’s upper deck, starboard and larboard; and never before, perhaps, had guns been served so furiously, yet so fault- lessly. A third of his men were dead or disabled, and yet the fire of his artillery never failed when a target was presented. Now he set his own hand to the tackle. His coat was gone, his fine shirt was torn, and blood and powder-smoke begrimed him. Henry Todd, who had deserted his sheltered but harrowing tasks in the cockpit, fought and sweated at the gun captain’s elbow. Comichooks.com