Yet the speaker announced the same day that he would step down from his post at the end of October, a decision that reflected, in part, the polarizing figure he had become. His departure will leave a void in Westminster, raising the question of who could possibly bellow “Order! Order!” with the same brio when a new Parliament reconvenes to debate the next phases of Brexit.

In his final weeks presiding over the House, Mr. Bercow seemed as much ringmaster as disciplinarian. With parts of the Conservative Party in open revolt against Mr. Johnson over the prorogue and his threat of taking Britain out of the European Union without a deal, and the opposition inflamed by his maneuver to cut off debate with the suspension, the House of Commons became a stage for political theater of a particularly British variety.

Jacob Rees-Mogg, a Conservative leader whose upper-crust mannerisms are easy to parody, stretched out on the frontbench during an evening debate, his languorous pose launching a thousand Twitter memes and becoming a metaphor for Britain’s out-of-touch, Eton- and Oxford-educated elite.

Mr. Johnson lampooned the Labour Party leader, Jeremy Corbyn, when he balked at the prime minister’s call for an early election, calling him a “chlorinated chicken” (his reference was to chemically-treated poultry from the United States, which many Britons fear would flood the country after Brexit).

One of the Conservative renegades, Phillip Lee, defected ostentatiously while Mr. Johnson was addressing the chamber, crossing the aisle to sit with the Liberal Democrats and depriving Mr. Johnson of his single-vote majority.

His act presaged a broader mutiny in Tory ranks. Twenty-one members voted with the opposition to tie their leader’s hands, passing a law that forbade Mr. Johnson from withdrawing Britain from the European Union on Oct. 31 without a deal.