“New” Imperialism

Late 19th Century

Readings,
Advertisements,
Cartoons and
Photographs
 The White Man's Burden
By Rudyard Kipling (Feb. 1899)
Take up the White Man's burden-- The ports ye shall not enter,
Send forth the best ye breed-- The roads ye shall not tread,
Go, bind your sons to exile Go, make them with your living
To serve your captives' need; And mark them with your dead.
To wait, in heavy harness, Take up the White Man's burden,
On fluttered folk and wild-- And reap his old reward--
Your new-caught sullen peoples, The blame of those ye better
Half devil and half child. The hate of those ye guard—
Take up the White Man's burden-- The cry of hosts ye humor
In patience to abide, (Ah, slowly!) toward the light:--
To veil the threat of terror "Why brought ye us from bondage,
And check the show of pride; Our loved Egyptian night?"
By open speech and simple, Take up the White Man's burden--
An hundred times made plain, Ye dare not stoop to less--
To seek another's profit Nor call too loud on Freedom
And work another's gain. To cloak your weariness.
Take up the White Man's burden-- By all ye will or whisper,
The savage wars of peace-- By all ye leave or do,
Fill full the mouth of Famine, The silent sullen peoples
And bid the sickness cease; Shall weigh your God and you.
And when your goal is nearest Take up the White Man's burden!
(The end for others sought) Have done with childish days--
Watch sloth and heathen folly The lightly-proffered laurel,
Bring all your hope to nought. The easy ungrudged praise:
Take up the White Man's burden-- Comes now, to search your manhood
No iron rule of kings, Through all the thankless years,
But toil of serf and sweeper-- Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The tale of common things. The judgment of your peers.
 The Poor Man's Burden
By Howard S. Taylor (Feb. 18, 1899)

Pile up the poor man's While Pity cries in Let glory ride, as ever,
burden-- London, Upon the toiler's back.
The weight of foreign "God help the British Lay tax and tax upon him,
wars; poor!" Devised with subtle skill--
Go shrewdly yoke together Pile up the poor man's Call forth his sons to
Great Mercury and Mars, burden-- slaughter
And march with them to His sons will hear our And let him pay the bill!
conquest, call, Pile up the poor man's
As once did ancient Rome, Will feed the jungle fever burden!
With vigor on her borders And stop the Mauser ball; The lords of trade, at least,
And slow decay at home! Will fall far off unnoted, May drink, like King
Pile up the poor man's For spoils they may not Belshazzar,
burden, share, In comfort at the feast;
Accept Great Britain's plan; And spill their blood to May boast, as did the
She does all things for water monarch
commerce-- A laurel here and there! Within his palace hall,
Scarce anything for man. Pile up the poor man's While God wrote out his
Far off among the pagans burden; sentence
She seeks an open door Keep in the old, old track! In fire upon the wall!
 The Brown Man's Burden
By Henry Labouchère (Feb. 25, 1899)
Pile on the brown man's burden Pile on the brown man's burden, Retort that independence
To gratify your greed; And if his cry be sore, Is good for whites alone..
Go, clear away the "niggers" That surely need not irk you-- Pile on the brown man's
Who progress would impede; Ye've driven slaves before. burden,
Be very stern, for truly Seize on his ports and pastures, With equity have done;
'Tis useless to be mild The fields his people tread; Weak, antiquated scruples
With new-caught, sullen Go make from them your living, Their squeamish course
peoples, And mark them with his dead have run,
Half devil and half child. Pile on the brown man's burden, And, though 'tis freedom's
Pile on the brown man's burden; Nor do not deem it hard banner
And, if ye rouse his hate, If you should earn the rancor You're waving in the van,
Meet his old-fashioned reasons Of those ye yearn to guard. Reserve for home
With Maxims up to date. The screaming of your Eagle consumption
With shells and dumdum bullets Will drown the victim's sob-- The sacred "rights of man"!
A hundred times made plain Go on through fire and slaughter. And if by chance ye falter,
The brown man's loss must ever There's dollars in the job. Or lag along the course,
Imply the white man's gain. Pile on the brown man's burden, If, as the blood flows freely,
Pile on the brown man's burden, And through the world proclaim Ye feel some slight remorse,
Compel him to be free; That ye are Freedom's agent-- Hie ye to Rudyard Kipling,
Let all your manifestoes There's no more paying game! Imperialism's prop,
Reek with philanthropy. And, should your own past And bid him, for your
And if with heathen folly history comfort,
He dares your will dispute, Straight in your teeth be thrown, Turn on his jingo stop.
Then, in the name of freedom,
Don't hesitate to shoot.
 The Gospel of Force
By Bertrand Shadwell (1899)
Take up the sword and rifle, The ports ye wish to enter,
Send forth your ships with speed, The roads ye wish to tread,
To join the nations' scramble, Make them with heathen living,
And vie with them in greed; Mark them with heathen dead.
Go find your goods a market, Take up the sword and rifle,
Beyond the western flood, Rob every savage race,
The heathen who withstand you Annex their lands and harbors,
Shall answer it in blood. For this is Christian grace.
Take up the sword and rifle, E'en though ye slaughter
For so does all the world, thousands,
There's none shall dare upbraid you, Ye still shall count it gain;
When once your flag's unfurled, If ye extend your commerce,
The race is to the swiftest, Who dreads the curse of Cain?
The battle to the strong, Take up the sword and rifle,
Success is the criterion, Still keep your conscience whole--
None cares to count the wrong. So soon is found an unction
Take up the sword and rifle, To soothe a guilty soul.
And know no fear or pause, Go with it to your Maker,
What though your hands be bloody, Find what excuse ye can--
Who calls ye to the laws? Rob for the sake of justice,
Kill for the love of man.
 By Whose Command?
By E. C. Tompkins (1899)
Who kens the White Man's Burden? Who boasts of dear-bought wisdom?
Where is it writ or said Who prates about our peers?
Go cross the seas to seek it Whose is this plea for slaughter?
And strike the Brown Man dead? And if ye would and could,
Why bind our sons in exile? Go trace thro' God's green
What captives pray, have we? springtime
Our one-time human chattels The Briton's trail of blood.
We long ago set free. You, when your stricken Tartar
Who hath the verdict given -- Lies prone upon the plain,
This color of the clod You lift aloft your "burden"
Shall line the world's adjusting, And thrust him thro' again.
Is there a white man's God? You tear his tombs wide open
Who bids us spurn the calling And desecrate his dead,
Of freedom to her sons? "To slay his superstition
Who says go preach the gospel And make him wise instead."
From the mouth of Gatling guns? You would share with us this glory --
Who comes to search our manhood Great Heaven, what say we
With taunt of thankless years? Unto this Christian Vandal
With his fine Apology?
• Lightening the
White Man's
Burden
• Pears' Soap
Advertisement
• McClure's
Magazine (Oct.
1899)
• The White Man's Burden by May
• Detroit Journal, (Feb. 18, 1899)
•Life cover
•March 16,
1899
• Take Up the
White Man's
Burden, and
Reap His Old
Reward
• By William H.
Walker
• Life
(March 16,
1899)
•Uncle
Sam: "I
don't like
the job,
Rudyard,
my boy!"
•Denver
Post
(1900)
•Detroit News,
(May 4, 1901)
•Grape-
Nuts
Cereal
•Boston
Globe
(Jan. 22,
1902)
•London
Daily
Chronicle
(Nov. 26,
1905)
• Photographs
of mutilated
Congolese
• Congo
Reform
Association,
1904
“New” Imperialism
Late 19th Century