During 1981, I was eighteen-year-old sixth form student. I was heavily involved in both sport and centre right politics. I represented my school in a debating competition when I advocated the re-introduction of the birch. After the event, a very distinguished looking gentleman who had been in the audience approached me known only to me as Mr Jones. He said that he had something very important to discuss with me privately. He took me to dinner and said that he was going to make an unusual request. A decision of the European Court of Human Rights in the case of Tyrer v. UK had ruled that birching in the Isle of Man was degrading. The UK authorities, as a result, wished to see the end of birching there but were powerless to act, as the island was self-governing in this respect. However, the future of birching was now in jeopardy as a 16-year-old Glasgow youth has been sentenced to a birching. He had appealed and the British intended sending a judge over to hear the case and rule once and for all that the practice was illegal. My dinner companion said that one more birching might stop the British authorities in their tracks.
I agreed but asked what any of this had to do with me. To my astonishment he said that he hoped that Id take the birching. I was stupefied and protested that to do that I would get a criminal record. He assured me my name would not be publicised and he had contacts in the Isle of Man that would erase my record before concluding everything you and I hold dear is at stake and its our only chance. I had an incredible number of questions before, to my own amazement agreeing to his plan and travelled with him to the Isle of Man.
He had a contact in the Manx police whom we met and he advised us as to how to realise our aim. I was to get drunk in a bar, our Manx policeman, called Dan, would be on duty and we would get into a fight. I would hit the policeman and get arrested.
That evening I get very drunk indeed, as a way of quelling my nerves. Eventually Dan and another colleague entered the bar. Dan told me to leave, I said no way, we got into a jostle and I gave Dan a hefty upper cut to his jaw and hit him much harder than I intended. It sent him sprawling over a table and I was immediately arrested. I spent the night in the cells and was taken to the Magistrates Court in the morning. I appeared before a magistrate notorious for ordering birchings. When sentence was passed I was stunned to receive 12 strokes. I knew that a birching was the aim but I hadnt expected such a severe sentence. I was told that I could have an adult present at my punishment and asked for Mr Jones to be there.
Next I was taken to a cell below that court and had to wait for a doctor to examine me. He took my pulse and listened to my chest before disappearing. Some minutes later, a policeman came into the cell and said that he had good news; I was fit for the birching.
After morning court, they came to get me; I was handcuffed behind my back and taken to the jury room. There was quite a crowd waiting for me including Mr Jones, the doctor, about five police officers, including Dan, as well as a bucket full of fearsome looking birches and a punishment horse.
The sentence was read out and I was told to approach the horse. The handcuffs were removed and I was told to loosen my trousers, as soon as I did this hands appeared, it seemed from nowhere and yanked my trousers and pants to the floor. I was pushed over the hose and my wrists and ankles were tied. I was very embarrassed displaying my naked backside to so many people but glad that as a result of all my sport that I was displaying nicely rounded cheeks to the assembled crowd. Someone entered the room and Mr Jones later told me that it had been the constable who administered the sentence. He took an age to get ready, taking practice swishes and judging his aim.
Suddenly out of nowhere the first stroke landed. It took me by surprise and I hated not seeing the direction the birch was coming from. In fact, the first four strokes were not too bad but after that the pain was immense. The policeman lifted the birch very high on each occasion before it landed with a massive THWACK on my backside. By stroke seven I was very glad that I was tied and was struggling like mad in the straps. It felt like red-hot pokers were hitting me. Eventually the law took had taken its course and I was released. My hands rushed to my backside as I frantically attempted to rub the pain away. I had to remove some twigs that were sticking into my backside and was provided with water and a towel to wash the affected area. After I had dressed and turned to leave the senior officer said that next time it would be twenty-four.
Mr Jones whisked me by taxi to the ferry and we were soon steaming for Liverpool. You did brilliantly, he said. I could only manage a weak thanks but I felt that the experience really did me good. After that I put my back into everything, as I imagined the constable with the birch coming after me.
Mr Jones invited me to dinner at his very smart house a few days later. With the exception of myself, his guests all seemed very well heeled and were delighted with me for what I had done. Eventually someone asked if I would mind showing the stripes and I was happy to oblige. There were gasps of astonishment round the room as, to say the least, the birch had been well laid on but I told everyone thats how it should be. I found out afterwards that the Manx authorities never thought that Id take the birching and a severe sentence was passed to make a point. The constable wielding the birch had never given it such welly as he felt he would never lift the birch again. Amazingly, I was able to meet him years later on a TV show when, yet again I was advocating the re-introduction of the birch, and thanked him profusely for what he had done for me. I never found out about Mr Jones and how he organised his contacts. However, we couldnt stop the abolition of the birch despite my best efforts and I find that sad as it did me nothing but good even though my crime would never have been committed unless I had been looking for a birching.