It is a long time since I was at school. To be precise, I started my secondary school time at a very ordinary boys' grammar school in the English Midlands in 1951.
The cane was the punishment of last resort and there were many times when we boys wished that the last resort was considerably closer. This was a general feeling, and most of us applied it to ourselves as much as having others in mind for the "whack" which was our nickname for the procedure. Even after all those years, I am sure that we felt that a good "dose of the stick", which was our headmaster's nickname would have been a more effective lesson than detentions or the endless writing of repetitious lines or irrelevant and poor quality essays whose only function was to fill the requisite space.
I can still remember the first two occasions that I was caned. Both times, I was in the fourth form which means that I was either fourteen or fifteen. Normally the use of the cane was reserved for the headmaster, but the deputy headmaster, Mr Horne, was allowed to use it in his absence. Mr Horne agreed with our feeling that it was used too rarely in general and corrected that perceived error when he had the chance. This happened comparatively rarely. The headmaster, although only a few years from retirement, was a healthy man. However, even though it was rare, it was frequent enough for us to realise that, if Mr Horne took morning assembly, we should be more careful. Behaviour and work suffered an immediate improvement.
This is getting off the point. My first encounter with the cane was when I was in the second form. I was not in trouble myself, but the absence of the headmaster had prevented Mr Horne taking his lesson with us and I was deputed, at the end of the lesson, which was the last of the day, to take the work we had done down to the headmaster's study for marking later. I arrived to find that there was a queue of one. I wondered whether to ask if I could go in first as I was only a delivery boy but my courage failed me. Second formers didn't ask favours of sixth formers, who were only a little lower than God in the general plan of things.
While he was in, two fifth formers came up. One was Hickson. He was a large boy who delighted in tormenting smaller boys. Only that day, one of my friends had been collected by Hickson who had had his trousers off and given him a leathering for the sheer hell of it. What neither of us knew was that a prefect had come up just as my friend went away. He had seen enough and now Hickson was to discover that it was wiser not to behave like that when Mr Horne was in charge.
However, Hickson said, "I'm going in next. You can wait."
The boy inside came out and Hickson went in. I moved up to the front of the queue. By now, there were two others behind me, one being the fifth former who had arrived with Hickson.
I could just hear the murmur of conversation for the headmaster's door had not been closed completely. Then there was quiet. Through that quiet I heard it.
Swissh - cracck!
It was the sound of a cane going through the air followed by its being driven into the waiting seat of a boy presenting that seat for that very purpose. The fifth former behind me, Wilkinson by name, said quietly, "Good, It's about time that sod got it!"
Swissh - cracck!
Swissh - cracck! That was three. By now Hickson was obviously reaching his limit. I heard him say, "That's enough, sir!"
The deputy headmaster said, "I decide when it's enough, not you. You can dish it out when you're bullying. You can't take it even when it is your just deserts. Get down again and take it like a man!" Wilkinson said quietly to me, "I'll bet he's wishing that he hadn't pushed in, now. He'll be dead sick to have you know what he's getting. Just let me know if he tries anything on you."
I replied, "Thanks, Wilkinson. Do you mind if I go I next? I've only got to give these to Mr Horne."
Before Wilkinson could reply the sound came from inside the room.
Swissh - cracck! This time followed by a squawk from the offender.
It fell twice more and then Mr Horne said, "That'll be all this time. Make sure that I never even hear of you bullying again. Now get out of my sight, you miserable creature."
I tried to be invisible as Hickson came out, tears almost halting his progress.
Wilkinson said, "In you go, it's your turn."
My delivery completed, I was able to leave, having come closer to the famous "whack" than I had ever done before.
My next encounter was very different. During the final lesson of the afternoon a prefect came into our classroom with a note. The master read it, walked across to my desk and put it in front of me.
It read, "Johnson is to report to my study at the close of school today."
I had no idea why or what I could have done. I would have to wait to find out.
Soon after the bell, I was standing in front of the headmaster. He sat still wearing his academic gown and with his mortar board on the desk. The other masters wore their gowns but only the headmaster used a mortar board.
"You sent for me, sir?"
"You were in the centre of town this lunch hour."
For those who had school dinners, as I did, it was an offence to be out of the school grounds during the lunch hour without permission. However, this time, I was happy. I knew that I had not been out.
"No, sir. I was in first dinners and after that I was on the school field."
He went red and said, "Don't lie to me, boy. I drove through and I saw you there. Out of school without permission and not wearing your school cap in a public place. I've got no choice. I'm going to cane you."
Quite clearly, argument was pointless. I was going to discover what it was like and I was determined that I wasn't going to stop proceedings in the way Hickson had done with Mr Horne. I thought quickly as he stood and crossed the room, taking a cane from a hook on the side of a cupboard.
I knew I was innocent. I also knew that I deserved a caning because I had skipped a Divinity lesson. They were so incredibly boring and the Divinity Master couldn't keep order either. I didn't care what the old man thought. I'd be getting it for twagging!
I said, "Where do I go, sir?"
With the cane, he pointed to the seat of an armchair.
"Bend over into there."
I obeyed. I did more. I wasn't going to have him think I couldn't take it. I got right down, pushing myself as low as I could go. I forced my legs straight and then waited.
The headmaster took the bottom hem of my jacket and pulled it well up. Now I knew that my rump was exposed for him to do his worst. I felt the cane rest across the centre of my seat. It went away and then it returned.
Crack!
It hurt, but, to my surprise, it didn't hurt anything like as much as I had expected it to.
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
"Get up boy!"
I stood, still surprised at how little it had hurt.
He said, "If you hadn't lied, it would only have been three. Now, go."
I went out, rubbing my seat and relieved that there had been no witnesses outside, listening to my downfall. Later, at home, I checked in the mirror. The evidence was there but it was only just visible. Even that didn't alter my resentment at an unjust caning, particularly when I knew that, even if I had been guilty, many far more serious offences were going unpunished.
Until then, I had given very little consideration to what I thought about the headmaster. Now, I had no respect at all. He was grossly unfair, and, almost as bad, when he thought someone deserved caning, he couldn't even do that properly. Put simply, from an unthinking acceptance of the man because of his office, my perception of him slipped to thinking of him as a jerk.
Almost at the end of the fourth form, Divinity lessons had become even more chaotic. It was a good day and I went missing again. This time I was caught, and it was Mr Horne who caught me. Even more seriously, I knew from the morning assembly that he was in charge.
A few minutes later I stood in front of the desk again.
Mr Horne said, "What's the idea, Johnson?"
"I'm sorry, sir."
"Thank you. I appreciate the expression of regret. That doesn't answer the question."
"I'm not sure that you will like the answer, sir."
"Stop the prevarication. Give me an answer."
"I couldn't take any more, sir."
"I don't follow. Is somebody bullying you?"
"No, sir. It's not that."
"Well what is it?"
I blurted out, "It's the Divinity lessons, sir. They're a shambles and they're ridiculous as well. I thought that we come to school to learn to think, sir, and then that man expects us to believe that God created the world in seven days and all that twaddle. He won't even let us say that it's a legend or a myth or something like that."
"I see. If you feel so strongly, couldn't you have asked your parents to write and asked for you to be excused? Religious Education is the only subject where they've got the right to do so. Just between ourselves, Johnson, if they would write and say why, I think there are those of us who would be pleased."
"I'll try, sir. Then there's just my whacking, isn't there, sir?"
"I'm afraid there is. You timed it badly. I imagine that the headmaster might have let it go with a warning. I think it's too serious for that."
"That's fair, sir. Not like the last time I was caned."
Mr Horne sat up and said, "What did you say?"
"I'm sorry, sir. That slipped out and it was fair in the end. I made it fair. The trouble is that it's a repeated offence now. I've already been caned for it once."
Mr Horne said, "There's nothing about it in your record."
"No, sir. The headmaster doesn't know."
"I think you'd better explain that as well, Johnson."
"Well, sir, in there, it'll say that I was caned for being in town during the dinner hour and not wearing my cap. I wasn't and I told the headmaster that I wasn't but he wouldn't believe me. It's not just that I wasn't breaking the rule. I wasn't even in town that day. I didn't want to be caned for something that I hadn't done and so I thought of it as being for missing two Divinity lessons just before he saw me. That's what I mean by it being a repeated offence sir. I had been caned for doing it and so it'll have to be a bigger caning now."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir. I wouldn't feel honest about it with you, sir. You've been so good to me sir. You let me explain, you believed what I said and you told me something that was just for us two. Then you let me explain about thinking that the headmaster's caning was for something he didn't realise. Some masters would have gone potty about me saying something like that, but I thought that you understood, sir."
"I do, and I appreciate your honesty. Would you really feel better if I did take that previous caning as being for what you thought it was for, instead of what the headmaster thought it was for."
"Yes, sir. Look sir, you've taught me ever since the first form. Have you ever caught me telling a fib?"
"No. You've been quite good at finding ways of avoiding answering a question at times. That's one of the things we notice with boys who don't want to tell lies. Let me be clear. You'd feel more honest if I treat you as a boy for whom one caning wasn't enough to stop him missing lessons?"
"I can't explain it any better, sir. I'd just feel more honest if you did."
"Very well. If you don't mind putting it off, you'll be more comfortable sitting for your next lesson if you haven't got a bruised bottom. Report to me after school."
"Yes, sir. Thank you sir. You told Lynch to report in gym kit, when you saw him this dinner time, sir. Do you want me to do that?"
"I sometimes tell boys to do that and as a repeated offence, you probably come into that category. If you don't mind the embarrassment, you could have it across your underpants. If you come a little later, so that you're at the end of the queue, there'll be nobody outside to hear your caning and they won't know why you're here if you're dressed."
"Thank you, sir."
That evening I arrived at the headmaster's study just as Brooke was coming away. He's another boy in our form. He was in gym kit and was holding his bottom.
"Blimey! He doesn't half lay it on. I'll say this, though. He was dead fair."
I said, "Has Lynch been in?"
"Yes. He got six. I did as well, but Mr Horne really got me to see what we'd been doing to the fags. I deserved it and I admit it."
"Lynch didn't?"
"What do you think? Mr Horne told me, after he'd caned me and Lynch wasn't there, that I've got to decide whether I really want to go around with people like Lynch. I don't think I do."
"It's up to you. You're half in with our mob anyway."
He went away and with the school now almost silent. I went into the headmaster's study.
Mr Horne looked up and said, "Close the door properly."
I obeyed and he said, "Right. The choice is still yours. You've got to be caned for missing today's lesson. You are suggesting that, in view of the fact that you regard yourself as already having been caned once for this, I ought to treat it as repeated. Is that right?"
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry if it seems silly sir, but I'd feel more honest. I've been thinking about it, sir, and it would be different if I'd thought of that other caning as being for something else. I probably shouldn't say this, but I'd feel different about it if it was with the headmaster as well, and that's not just because I couldn't explain why I fell bad to him."
"Very, well, Johnson. I understand."
He stood and went for the cane. I removed my jacket and loosened my belt. I unfastened my trousers, lowered them and stepped out of them. After my previous visit, I now knew where I had to go. I faced the chair, bent right into it, pushed my shirt right up out of the way and forced my legs straight. I was aware of Mr Horne walking across and then taking aim. I braced myself, hoping that he would do it properly. Then it happened.
Ccracckk!
This was no gentle tap like those the headmaster had delivered. It produced a surge of pain flooding from my bottom and seeming to take over completely. Just in time, I clamped my jaws together. If the headmaster had done it like this, it would have been a matter of principle for me that I should not cry out or give in to him. For Mr Horne, it was a matter of honour. The first few I would have got anyway and I deserved them. That was the real difference.
I braced myself for the second.
Ccracckk!
Once again, the cane was driven into my rump with devastating effect, but I felt better for it. It was like the pain when a boil is lanced, cleaning and healing.
Ccracckk!
I was having to force my legs straight and I felt that Mr Horne was on my side as he said, "You're doing fine."
I braced myself again.
Ccracckk!
That was four. I guessed that I would be getting at least six. I forced my legs straight again and waited.
Ccracckk!
That really stung. It was where he had hit before. Now, with luck, there would only be one more.
Ccracckk!
It was dreadful. I can still remember it after all those years. He struck just where bottom changes into being the top of your legs. It was a real corker. I nearly jumped up but I wanted him to see that I was taking it properly. It was worse because I was wearing Y-fronts and there wasn't even a thin layer of material there. It was on the bare.
He said, "Well done! Stand up and give it a rub."
I gratefully accepted the invitation and said, "I don't know if it sounds silly, sir, but thank you for doing it properly."
I started to dress as he said, "That's why the last one was like it was. I would have done it for a boy who needed to be taught a lesson. And try to find better ways of dealing to difficult lessons, please."
"Yes, sir. Can I be really cheeky, sir?"
"I'll risk giving you permission."
"I wish you were our headmaster, sir. You try to be fair and you help us to see what we've done wrong. Brooke said that as well, sir, and he's going to try to drop Lynch."
When I had dressed, Mr Horne said, "Good luck. Off you go, Johnson."
"Thank you, sir." I went out.
Later that evening, as I went to bed, I looked at the stripes. They were really good. In bed, with a hard as good as the one that happened while I was being caned, I remembered it all again. I came just as I remembered his sixth whack!