It was the first time I had been away to school, but there I stood, nine years old, outside the imposing towers of St Stephan's College. Before leaving home my father had informed me that this school was highly traditional, and high standards were expected and met. He had also told me discipline was tight and that he had given the headmaster full reign, though at that age I had no realisation of the full extent of that statement.
I was bundled into my dorm in Breton House and met the matron, who informed me my first task was to meet the Housemaster, Mr Deaks.
I found the office, knocked, and walked straight in. I was immediately met with a harsh shout to 'Get out! Only come in when told!', to which I promptly retreated. What struck me though was the sight I had seen, that of a boy bent over, touching his toes. His bare buttocks were emblazened with several scarlet welts, and a fearsome man in a black gown stood over him, wielding a vicious turn-handled cane. Nervously I stood in the corridor, listening to the terrible cracks of the cane as they met the unfortunate lad. I counted four, but he must have had at least four before my arrival.
The noise stopped, and shortly after the boy, who could have been no older than myself, limped out of the study clutching his backside, tears streaming down his face.
I then heard the booming command 'Come in, Boy!'. So I entered.
The great man was now sat as his desk, with a displeased expression on his face. 'Well boy? Have you never learnt manners?' he prompted.
'I did knock, you can't have heard...'
'Are you cheeking me, boy?' he bellowed. 'What's your name?'
'Edmund Montford.'
'Well, Montford, have you never been told not to answer back? We don't stand for such behaviour here, it will be severely punished, as you have seen. Do you understand me?'
'I think I do, yes.'
'If you fail to address me as Sir one more time I will thrash you to within an inch of your life.'
'I'll remember that. Sir.'
'Make sure you do. I am your new Housemaster, and any behaviour which is less than impeccable will come straight to my attention, and I will deal with it in whatever manner I see fit. Your father has given me full reign to punish you, and make no mistake that I will not hesitate to do so. Slackness, lack of effort or breech of rules will all have a very sore ending. Is this in any way unclear?'
'No.'
'What did I tell you, boy?' he yelled, 'Call me Sir! I think I am going to have to beat you just to make you remember that! Bend over!'
He rose from his desk and picked up the cane. I looked at him, dumbfounded.
'Are you deaf as well as insolent? Bend over and touch your toes!'
Slowly I bent over. I heard him move around behind me, and felt him flick the tail of my blazer out of the way. The next thing I heard was a loud swish and a great crack, and a burning brand blazed on my bottom. The pain was immense, then I heard another crack.
'I will not tolerate any form of insolence, lad!' Crack! 'You will learn your place!'
A fourth stroke hit my injured backside, the entire surface of my buttocks burned with searing agony.
'Now get up.'
I sprung up and clutched my buttocks, leaping from foot to foot.
'Stand still! You must learn to take your canings like a man! I have a feeling you will be receiving a great many more of them.'
I mumbled some response, and was given permission to leave. I hopped into the corridor and returned to my dorm, having little idea that my true initiation to Breton House had yet to begin.
To be continued.....