A Headmaster's Day


by Barry <Cparchivist@hotmail.com>

In the late 1950s I was the headmaster of a small private boarding school for boys between the ages of 12 and 18. Things were certainly different in those days before the 'youth revolution' and teenagers accepted rules and restrictions that they would never tolerate today.

For example, the school was very strict as regards uniform. Boys up to and including the age of 14 had to dress in short trousers and pupils of all ages were expected to wear the school cap. Even more out of step with today's practice was the daily use of the cane as a punishment. In those days corporal punishment was a fact of life in most schools and it would not have occurred to the average schoolboy to question it. Nowadays, after many years of incessant propaganda from the do-gooders, the cane has fallen out of favour, yet boys will be boys and there will always be a need to punish wrongdoers. These days offenders receive detentions or are even suspended from school, but in my time we preferred the 'short, sharp shock'.

Even when the canes were locked away in the cupboard, corporal punishment acted as a wonderful deterrent against wrongdoing. Every boy in the school, however tough he might pretend to be, feared the sting of the cane across his backside. It is a fact worth repeating again and again that a school punishment cane, properly used, can feel very painful indeed - whether applied to the seat of a boy's regulation school trousers, across his underpants, across gym shorts, or across pyjama trousers. Applied to the bare backside the cane can be excruciatingly painful.

Despite this capacity to inflict very unpleasant stinging pain, the standard school punishment cane cannot really harm a boy if handled with proper care. I considered myself to be suitably skilled in the use of the cane and reserved the application of corporal punishment to myself, as headmaster. Other masters were not permitted to administer the cane, nor were prefects. In fact corporal punishment was not really required in the acual classroom because any boy misbehaving could be given a 'punishment chit' and sent directly to me - and the culprit knew what he could expect when he presented himself.

I have been looking through some of my records of the period, including an old punishment book and diary, and I think it would be interesting to sketch out the events of a school day. The first canings of the day were given after morning assembly, when a queue of offenders lined up outside my office door. Glancing at the punishment book, I see that there were three boys to be dealt with on the morning in question - fewer than average, when it is considered that oftentimes there were as many as half a dozen.

First to knock at my door was a junior boy by the name of Adams. He was 13 years of age with tousled blond hair and a small, pert behind. He had received three detentions that term and one of the inflexible rules of the school was that three detentions brought an automatic caning. I ordered the boy to bend over touching his toes, so that his grey school shorts were very tightly stretched across his buttocks. I made him hold that rather uncomfortable position - waiting, anticipating - whilst I went to the cupboard to select a suitable cane from my large selection.

I chose a medium-length whippy rod with a springy action and after swishing it through the air a few times (I could really sense the boy's fear now) I informed Adams that he would be receiving three strokes - one for each detention. Making full use of the natural springiness of the cane I landed it dead centre across the 13-year-old's seat. I knew that very little force was needed on my part to produce a painful, hot stinging in such a small, sensitive behind and I heard the boy gasp. There were further gasps and groans until with the third stroke the junior jumped up, rubbing his injured bottom. I told him he had not been given permission to rise and gently but firmly directed him back into the required punishment posture. I gave the boy an extra stroke for his disobedience, then ordered him to stand up. As he turned to face me I could see that there were tears forming in his eyes. I warned him to keep out of trouble in future and told him to leave and send in the next boy.

Wentworth, the hefty 16-year-old in long trousers whom I now had to deal with presented quite a contrast to the slightly-built junior. I had caned this boy many times during his school career, but still he returned for more. This time he was in trouble for manhandling a prefect and I decided that he needed a lesson to remember. I told him to remove his blazer and then intoned the words every pupil of mine dreaded: 'Take your trousers down.' I had caned this boy across his underpants before and knew that the punishment had made some impression upon him, for he had kept out of mischief for quite a while afterwards. That time he had received three strokes; this time I intended to give him four.

I told him to bend over the edge of my desk with his arms outstretched sideways. He shuffled forwards with his trousers about his ankles (a humiliation in itself) and I helped him into position before lifting the tail of his grey school shirt to expose his muscular buttocks clad in regulation white cotton trunks. Once again I examined the contents of my canes cupboard, selecting this time a short, pliant instrument of medium thickness, very suitable for use at close quarters. Before starting the punishment I lectured the boy upon his misdeeds and told him that I intended to make the caning hurt as much as possible. I also informed him that if I had to beat him again for a serious offence he would get it on his bare bottom.

As the first cut found its target, Wentworth wriggled and gasped. No boy likes a beating across his underpants; apart from the shame of having to drop your trousers, the cane stings hellishly when the only protection is a thin layer of cotton. I continued the punishment, laying it on quite hard, knowing that I was dealing with a tough lad. The sting of the cane must have been very painful indeed, but it was not until the third stroke that the boy started groaning. As a final touch I aimed the last cut of the whippy rod at the unclothed flesh below the line of his briefs, producing a livid red weal. That time he really yelped.

I ordered the 16-year-old to get up and dress and he exited, rubbing his glowing behind. A very satisfactory caning, as far as I was concerned. Looking out the door I was surprised to see that a sixth-former was last in the queue. I did not like to have to beat sixth-formers, but they were certainly not immune from corporal punishment in my school. The lad in question, an 18-year-old by the name of Merrill, had been reported by a prefect for not wearing his school cap when out of gates. He had already been warned about this but had broken the rule repeatedly, his excuse being that he regarded the compulsory wearing of a school cap at the age of 18 as ridiculous.

In fact, Merrill did look rather old for his age and must have appeared odd in a schoolboy cap, but rules are rules and I could not tolerate such open defiance. The boy had been warned and a caning was now inevitable. Telling him that I regretted what I would now have to do, I made him bend over the back of my old leather armchair. I picked out a venerable senior cane, which had seen years of service in the chastisement of the older boys. It was long, thick and knotty, with a splendid balance - capable of knocking sense into the most stubborn sixth-former.

I decided that three strokes would be appropriate on this occasion, since I did not want an embittered rebel on my hands, sowing sedition amongst the seniors. Three well laid on strokes would remind the lad who was boss and deter him from defying the rules again. After all, it was two or three years since he had last been caned and he had probably forgotten just how unpleasant it was.

I stood well back and swung the thick cane with all my strength. It landed with a resounding thwack, raising the dust from the sixth-former's seat. If he had not had the heavy chair to support him I'm sure he would have been sent sprawling by the force of the blow. It is interesting to contrast this caning with that of the junior I had dealt with previously. In that case the boy had enjoyed no support, being in a touching-toes position, and I had applied a thin, whippy cane with little force but almost scientific precision, imparting a hot stinging pain which grew in intensity with each stroke. But now sheer brute, bruising force was the name of the game. This 18-year-old's backside was only suffering three strokes but they were real corkers and would produce some long lasting bruises.

I put plenty of beef into the thrashing, causing the lad to grunt and groan. I gained the impression that he would be taking care to wear his cap in future, despite feeling silly in it. Being caned as soundly as this was decidedly worse.

* * *

So I dealt with three boys after assembly that day, each of whom received a caning suited to himself and his offence. Most mornings I spent in my office on routine administrative tasks, confining my own teaching to certain periods in the afternoon. (Needless to say my classes were very well ordered.) Any boys misbehaving during morning school were sent directly to me with a punishment chit from the master concerned and I would normally interrupt my work to deal with them.

Looking at the punishment records for that particular morning I note that I had to cane two offenders. At about ten o'clock there was a knock at my door from a very frightened looking 12-year-old, bearing one of the feared punishment chits. I ordered him to stand before me while I considered what his teacher had written. I saw that it was the old crime of talking during the lesson without permission. First-formers were the most common pepetrators of this offence - often they had come from establishments with much more easy going regimes and found it difficult to restrain their natural boyish chattiness in their new school.

This boy was such a recent arrival that I had to ask him his name, which turned out to be Denver. I enquired whether he had been warned that he would be caned if he disregarded warnings about talking in class without permission. He had to admit that he had been told as much, despite which he now pleaded with me not to cane him, promising that he would never disobey a master again. The youngster looked pitiful standing before me, stark fear in his eyes.

I asked the boy whether he had ever been caned before. The answer was no, although he said he had been slippered a few times at his prep school. I told him that he was now in the senior school - and in the senior school disobedient boys got the cane. Taking the lad firmly by the shoulder I motioned him towards the chair and commanded him to bend over. I could see that he was very scared, probably wondering how much it would hurt and how many strokes he was going to receive.

In fact, I was never too hard on first offenders, unless the matter was very serious. I took a light, swishy cane from the cupboard - the type that can produce a nasty sting, but cannot bruise or injure the skin. In this case I intended to give the first-former just a taste of the cane, to demonstrate to him how unpleasant it could be, in the hope that this would act as a warning as to future conduct.

I told him that I was going to inflict three strokes and that he was not to jump up during the punishment or else I would start all over again. (It is advisable to acquaint a boy with correct punishment procedure right from the beginning of his school career.) I also told him to count the strokes.

I brought the swishy cane down smartly across the dead centre of the boy's backside. After delivering two strokes I asked him how the cane felt and he replied in a somewhat distressed voice: 'It stings sir...it really stings..' I made sure that the last stroke was even stingier, employing a flicking action with my wrist and landing the cane on the tightest part of his seat. .

Young Denver was considerably chastened when he stood up and I fancied that he would take care not to be disobedient in future. Just to encourage him further I promised him six-of-the-best the next time he appeared before me for a similar offence. I initialed his punishment chit and told him to give it to the master as proof that he had been dealt with.

The school must have been very well behaved that morning, since only one offender had been sent to me for the cane if my records are accurate. Consulting the punishment book for that day further, I note that I had to punish two boys together, directly following afternoon registration. They had been detected smoking behind the cricket pavillion at lunchtime - an offence which I took very seriously indeed. I always caned smokers - and caned them hard. Every boy in the school knew this, yet some were still prepared to take the risk. I decided to be more severe than usual with these two - Elton and Chant - since they had been beaten several times on previous occasions for this offence.

I made the two 15-year-olds stand before me as I flexed a long pliant cane. They were well aware how much such an instrument could hurt and they gazed at the yellow rattan as though hypnotised. I told the Elton and Chant to remove their blazers and then intoned the dreaded words: 'Lower your trousers!' followed by 'You are each going to receive four strokes of the cane.' Each boy in turn was made to bend over the armchair with his trousers about his ankles as I inflicted four real stingers. The swishy cane performed its task well and I felt sure that these boys would be deterred from smoking for some time to come.

* * *

A headmaster's work is never done, and as often as not I found myself having to deal with miscreants in the evening. I was still in my office when the first boy arrived - a 14-year-old named Hanley who had been detected wondering about the corridor during prep. The rule was that all juniors were confined to studies during prep, unless specific permission had been obtained, and I refused to accept this boy's excuse that he was answering an urgent call of nature. I gave him three strokes for rulebreaking and an extra one for lying to me and he returned to the junior house considerably chastened.

The headmaster's quarters directly adjoined the school and it was customary to send any offenders to me there once I had left my office for the evening. This did not happen very often, and I suspect that the prefects may have administered unofficial corporal punishment with the slipper once I was out of earshot.

At about 11 o'clock I had tired of reading and was thinking about bed when a call came through on the internal school telephone. The eight members of dormitory number five - all second-years - had been caught by their housemaster out of bed and enjoying a 'midnight feast.' Usually this sort of thing happened because some boy had been reading a 'public school story', full of rags and japes and midnight feasts and decided that since they were at a boarding school they ought to be having some such fun as well.

Well, real-life boarding schools in the late 1950s were nothing like the boarding schools of prewar fiction and I was certainly not going to tolerate such blatant misbehaviour. Feeling somewhat angry already at being called out on duty so late at night I went to my office to pick up a whippy junior punishment cane and then hurried over to the junior dormitories.

The lights of dormitory number five were full on and the housemaster was waiting at the door. Inside, the boys were standing by their beds in their striped pyjamas, their heads bowed and the remains of the illicit feast were visible, scattered about the floor. I told the housemaster that he could retire for the night and closed the dormitory door. The second-formers stood shivering in the chilly night air, nervously eyeing my cane. They knew what to expect!

I directed the boys to clear up the mess and then stand at the ends of their beds. I told them that this was a very serious matter: nocturnal feasting would not be tolerated under any circumstances. They would all be going to bed with sore bottoms that night.

One boy started to sob when he heard these words, joined by a couple of others when I informed them that they were to be caned on their bare bottoms. I ordered each boy to unfasten his pyjama trousers and bend over the end rail of his brass bedstead. It was certainly an interesting sight: eight young backsides, naked as the day they were born, awaiting the painful sting of the cane.

It was getting rather late and I decided I had better get the job done as quickly as possible. Moving to the first boy - one of the cry-babies - I gave him a sharp cut of the cane across his trembling behind. He yelped with pain and started crying his heart out. I gave him two more strokes in rapid succession and then told him to cease his hysterics, pull up his pyjama bottoms and get into bed. I moved on down the line of quivering bottoms, subjecting each to three hard cuts with the thin cane.

By the time I had finished every boy in that dormitory had gained three glowing stripes across his buttocks, and most of them had been reduced to tears. I made sure that they were all tucked up for the night and switched off the lights, shutting the door behind me. I lingered outside for a few minutes just in case there was any talking, but all I could hear through the door was quiet sobbing as they cried themselves to sleep.


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