Greyfriars Herald special flogging edition 5. Famous floggings

Posted by Traditional School Discipline July 04, 2021

Greyfriars Herald special flogging edition 5. Famous floggings

The subject of flogging is a grim one. It sends shivers down the spines of the weaker spirits. Yet those who possess a sense of humour can derive amusement even from so painful a scene as a public flogging. Just as there were men in the trenches who faced the most appalling situations with a smile, so there are schoolboys who can face floggings with a grin. – Extracted from the Greyfriars Herald special flogging edition: read online or download free-of-charge here.

Famous Floggings!

By George Wingate (Captain of Greyfriars School)

The subject of flogging is a grim one. It sends shivers down the spines of the weaker spirits.

Yet those who possess a sense of humour can derive amusement even from so painful a scene as a public flogging.

Just as there were men in the trenches who faced the most appalling situations with a smile, so there are schoolboys who can face floggings with a grin. Call it bravado, if you like; but to my mind, there is something admirable about it.

I have witnessed a good many floggings in my time. And as a fag, I received my fair share. I am no stranger to the swishing of the birch-rod.

But it is not of myself that I am going to write.

I have been engaged in burrowing through the old defaulters’ books at Greyfriars. These books were compiled by the headmasters of bygone days, and they are now kept – the books, not the headmasters – in the school tower. So tyrannical were some of these Heads that they ought to have been shut up in the tower themselves!

The year 1866 was the worst on record, so far as public floggings are concerned.

I find that upwards of a thousand floggings were administered during that lack year. This works out at three per day. How the headmaster’s arm must have ached!

It is possible, however that the Head had the assistance of the school-sergeant, who in those days used to act as a sort of Public Executioner. Why did all these floggings take place in 1866? Are we to suppose that the boys of that day were more perverse than the youngsters of today? Personally, I hardly think so.

The real explanation is that floggings were the fashion in those days. Impositions, gatings, and other forms of punishment were rarely resorted to. The birch-rod was relied upon as being the best agent for preserving law and order.

Let us look at some of the entries in this defaulters’ book for the year 1866.

“Brown, John Robert. Orchard-raiding. Twelve strokes with birch.”

That is the first entry; and we can weave quite a romantic story around those terse statements.

We are not told which Form John Robert Brown belonged to, but I expect it was the Remove, which has long been the most unruly form at Greyfriars.

We can picture Master Brown getting up in the middle of the night, borrowing a sack from the woodshed, and setting forth to plunder the orchard of one of the highly-respectable gentry residing in the neighbourhood. We can see him staggering back to the school, like a sort of Santa Claus, with his sack bulging with apples, pears, plums, and other delectable fruit. With difficulty he heaves his sack over the school wall. Then he clambers over himself. He hopes to convey the spoils to his dormitory without detection; but alas for Master Brown! A master is lurking in the shadows of the Close. He pounces upon the dismayed orchard-raider, and bids him appear before the Head in the morning.

After passing a sleepless night – probably in the punishment-room – John Robert Brown is arraigned before the Head in Big Hall; and, in the presence of the whole school, he receives a dozen strokes with the birch.

Judging by what Old Boys have told me, the birchings in those days were terribly severe.

With all respect to the muscular strength of Dr. Locke’s right arm, I should say that one stroke of the birch in those days was equivalent to a couple of today.

Was Brown’s punishment too severe? Possibly. But we must remember that orchard-raiding was, and still is, a very serious offence. Brown had committed the dual offence of sacking an orchard and breaking bounds, and he was fortunate not to be expelled.

The second entry in the book will make you gasp. Here is, indeed, a case of undue severity.

“Archer, William Egbert. Talking in the dormitory. Six strokes with birch.”

It is almost incredible that a boy should have been so heavily punished for so trivial an offence which today would be rewarded with a hundred lines.

Yet we do not know the full facts of the case. What was he saying? There lies the whole crux of the matter. If he had been bidding his best chum good-night, or telling somebody to stop snoring, it is unlikely that he would have been birched. Personally, I imagine he was saying uncomplimentary things about a master, and the master came in and overheard him. He was probably saying, “Old so-and-so is a bald-headed old buffer!” or words to that effect.

If my surmise is correct, the offence ought to have been entered in the defaulters’ book as “Impertinence to a master.”

It would be very interesting if Archer – now an old man, if he is still alive – came down to Greyfriars and enlightened us as to the true facts of the case. But I expect Archer, like many another, has drifted far away from the old school wherein he worked and played.

The next entry in the book concerns quite a number of fellows. But it is of sufficient interest for me to quote the extract in full:

“Loring, Richard Henry. Melville, James. Grant, Percival. Kendrick, Arthur. Weston, Rowland. Whitfield, Ernest. Jones, Stanley Raymond. Peters, Hector. Pryor, James Edward. O’Connor, Desmond Terence. Inciting their schoolfellows to rebel against authority, and conducting a “barring out.”

“Loring and Melville expelled. Remainder - twelve strokes each with birch.”

Here we have, in a nutshell, the sequel to the Great Rebellion of 1866.

The ten ringleaders of the rebellion were all members of the Fifth and Loring was the captain of the Form.

The trouble arose through the appointment of a brutal master named Hardwick, who ruled the Fifth Form with a rod of iron. Loring and Melville, two spirited youths, sowed the seeds of a big rebellion, which lasted five days. At the ned of that time, the rebels, owing to shortage of supplies, were compelled to surrender.

I am not going to start an argument o the rights and wrongs of the case as I am not in possession of all the facts. Suffice it to say that on that grim morning in January 1866, two fellows were expelled and eight were relentlessly flogged.

We now come to a more amusing entry:

“Stokes, Robert. Repeatedly sneezing in chapel during the headmaster’s sermon. One stroke with birch.”

Poor Bobby Stokes! We can picture him sitting in his pew, struggling hard to bottle his sneezing, only to break out again with renewed vigour.

Of course, he may have been sneezing deliberately – with malice aforethought, so to speak. In which event, he richly merited his solitary stroke with the birch.

Here is another amusing entry:

“Banks, Bertram. Impersonating the headmaster, by donning the latter’s apparel. Six strokes with birch.”

It is easy to picture Master Banks strutting bout in gown and mortar-board, wielding a formidable birch-rod. The record of his “crime” does not reveal whether he was a senior or a junior; but I have no doubt he was a mischievous young monkey in the Remove.

This dusty, dog-eared defaulters’ book is chock full of interesting facts.

I find that the sternest punishment awarded in 1866 was twenty strokes with the birch. This terrific dose was administered to a boy named Bartlett, for stealing money from the Games Fund Box and allowing another fellow to take the blame. In the end the truth came to light, and Bartlett got his just deserts. His was a particularly despicable offence, and I wonder he was not expelled.

Floggings have become less frequent of recent years; but the birch rod is still brought into action on occasion. Every now and again we have a General Assembly, and a public flogging is witnessed.

Generally speaking, however, headmasters are more humane than they used to be. And the old “Reign of Terror,” with its three public floggings a day, has gone, never to return. At least we fervently hope so!

In conclusion, I should like to point out that I always keep an ashplant in my study, for the purpose of correcting certain cheeky young cubs in the Remove.