The caps rebellion

 Original Fiction – for adult eyes only

(A St. Francis Independent Grammar School story)

The school is proud of its reputation, and that means the boys must be smartly dressed at all times. And caps MUST be worn .. or else!

 

Three fifteen-year-old boys stood in front of Mr Trout their housemaster, heads bowed, shuffling their feet slightly. They were about to be caned for not wearing their school caps.

And, they were not the only boys at St Francis Independent Grammar School to have their bottoms beaten that morning.

The three were caught after prefects carried out spot checks on boys and booked thirty-two who were not wearing their regulation headgear.

The headmaster Dr Henderson-Smith believed in discipline and was very proud of the smartness of the uniform at St Francis. The boys were the public face of the school and had to be turned out neatly at all times. There were to be no exceptions. The punishment for letting the school down was severe. 

The uniform code at St Francis was very strict. All the boys from the first form to the fifth wore bottle green blazers with yellow braiding on the lapels, cuffs and pockets. The boys in the first three forms aged from eleven to fourteen had to wear grey short trousers, with grey knee socks that had two green stripes at the top. The older boys wore grey long trousers with dark grey short socks.

All boys wore a green tie with a silver stripe, except for the prefects who had a green tie with a gold crest in the middle.  In winter every boy whatever his year was required to wear a grey V-neck jumper with a green and yellow edging.

Highly polished black lace-up shoes were worn by all boys and every boy wore a dark grey shirt and white underpants.

And … a green-and-yellow hooped cap.

Henderson-Smith also believed in corporal punishment. It was his duty to ensure that his boys grew into fine men to take their rightful place in society. Not all of them would be leaders of men; he understood that, so that meant they had to learn how to be obedient. Some of them would become leaders and they must learn the value of leadership, but also obedience to their own superiors. The cane was in regular use throughout the school and woe betides a boy who was disobedient.

The business of not wearing caps had been worrying him for some time. Many schools had given up with caps as part of their uniform, but not St Francis, the school would be nothing if it did not stand by its traditions. Caps must be worn. The headmaster himself had also given instructions on the matter.

But, some boys refused to conform. They were deliberately flouting an instruction from the headmaster and this disobedience would not be tolerated.

There had been a rebellion of sorts last summer over the wearing of school uniform. England had its hottest summer for many years and some older boys at the school wanted to be allowed to wear short trousers. Dr Henderson-Smith forbade it and expected his word to be final. But there was a protest by the boys. A protest, as if St Francis Grammar were some kind of democracy. At this school the headmaster’s word was final and that should be clear to the boys and to the masters as well.

He had personally beaten thirty boys who had demonstrated. Administering mass canings can be an exhausting job, so the boys were instructed to attend the headmaster’s study four at a time throughout the day. In that way, Dr Henderson-Smith was able to ensure that each of the miscreants received his full attention.

The following day, four sixteen-year-old boys who attended school wearing grey short trousers were also caned by the headmaster. They had claimed that there was no rule that stopped older boys from wearing short trousers at the school where they are compulsory uniform for all first-, second- and third-form boys.

Then, he beat three of the ringleaders publicly in morning assembly. The three boys were marched into the hall by the senior prefects and led onto the stage where, following a thunderous denunciation of rebellion from the headmaster, one by one they placed themselves across a large oak table.

Dr Henderson-Smith could be a brute and he laid his cane into the boys’ backsides with vim. Two of the boys took their thrashings well, but in great distress were helped away by Forster, the head boy.

The third boy, Parkinson, a lad of nearly six feet and a rugby star disgraced himself and his school. In trepidation, he had laid himself across the desk and like the others he bit deep into the fabric of his blazer sleeve, ready to receive the first cut. But, when the cane fell with a Swoosh!!! he let out a blood-curdling yell and jumped to his feet, clutching his bottom between his hands and jumping up and down on the spot.

Parky refused all further demands to place himself across the table for further chastisement. It took all of the strength of two junior masters to force the boy down and keep him still long enough for the headmaster to complete his duty.

Once he was eventually released, Parkinson had to be half-carried from the hall.

The public caning had made local and national newspapers. That was the work of Brocklehurst Bugle junior reporter, Kevin Smith, who had himself been a former pupil of the school. Henderson-Smith had beaten Smith last year when, aged twenty-one, he had returned to the school to collect information about prize day. But, there had been unfinished business, a little matter of a dead frog left to decompose in the science laboratory. Smith had played a prank on his last day at the school, but headmasters, like elephants, never forgot, as Smith discovered. (Read the full story here.)

That day, despite Kevin’s age, Dr Henderson-Smith administered twelve stingers to the lad’s backside, trousers down. The headmaster believed, perhaps erroneously, that Smith had accepted that he had deserved to be punished and took his whipping accordingly.

Dr Henderson-Smith now had his doubts and thought that perhaps Smith had a grudge against the school and was deliberately seeking out stories that might damage the headmaster’s reputation. Too many stories about corporal punishment could make people think he was excessively enthusiastic about beating boys’ bottoms.

The headmaster had little doubt that the missing caps business would end up in the newspaper and be wrapped around someone’s fish and chips next week, but that would not deter him from the work he had to carry out.

Now, his housemaster Trout had three boys in his study. The boys stood lined up in front of him. They were dressed very smartly. What a pity they refuse to wear a cap, he thought.

Trout interrogated the boys: did they not have caps? Had they been lost or stolen? Why didn’t you want to wear a cap? Were you not proud of your school?

To the housemaster’s dismay, all three boys accepted that they did indeed have caps, but had chosen not to wear them despite having been instructed they must. So, this was a rebellion. It was a deliberate flouting of the rules.

That was the last straw. “I am going to beat each of you and I am going to beat you most severely,” he proclaimed theatrically, but with no malice. It was his duty to thrash the boys and he would carry it out.

The three boys blanched at the news and were transfixed as the housemaster retrieved a cane from his cupboard. He had a varied collection to choose from and decided on a swishy dragon, probably the most ferocious cane he possessed. Six from this little beauty would leave deep bruises on the boys’ backsides. Good, thought Trout, they deserved everything that was coming to them. He would not countenance rebellion at his school.

“Right all three of you stand in a line,” the housemaster was going to beat them all at the same time.

The boys eyed one another apprehensively, not only were they to be thrashed severely they were going to get it in front of their friends. Their pals would see how well (or not) they could take it. They remembered Parkinson and the way he howled when he was publicly thrashed last summer.

“Wilkins you stand there,” Trout steered the boy by this shoulders into place. “Judge, you here,” he manoeuvred the teenager a yard or two to the right and a pace forward of his companion. “Longston, you here.”

The boys were lined up alongside each other, but arranged in steps so the housemaster could move freely between each of them to deliver his caning.

“It will be six for each of you. Bend over, touch your toes.”

All three bent down. “Keep those knees straight, Longston. Legs further apart. Wilkins move further forward.”

Once the boys were in position to his satisfaction, the housemaster went over to each of them and raised the tail of their blazers up their backs, away from their stretched bottoms.

All three boys were stoic at first. They had all been beaten before; it was that kind of school.

The housemaster set about his task with vigour. He was not dealing with a seemingly trivial matter about a small piece of school uniform; this was about obedience and rebellion. He would not stand rebellion and obedience must be restored.

One by one he lashed the boys with his fierce dragon cane. First Wilkins received a stoke; then Judge; then Longston, and then back to Wilkins again. Until all three boys felt six stingers across their buttocks.

They tried to be brave. In the experience of the housemaster all boys tried to be brave while they were being caned: they did not want to give their punisher the satisfaction of knowing they were in agony. Trout approved of that: it was about strong character, acknowledging you had done wrong and accepting the consequences without fuss.

This time the three punished boys also had to prove to their pals that they could take it. And, maybe they also wanted to show they could take it better than their fellows.

Even so, by the time the third stroke had bounced off Longston’s backside, all three rebels were in tears. Somehow, despite the agonising heat under their trousers, all the boys managed to stay in position (but only just in the case of Judge).

The three were deathly pale when the housemaster at last allowed them to stand. Each wanted to desperately rub at the seat of his trousers to try to drive away the pain, but they dared not: none wanted to lose face in front of their friends.

And, that was it. The housemaster returned the cane to the cupboard and lectured them some more about the need for obedience. The boys were not listening; they desperately wanted to get out of it so they could cool their burning bum cheeks.

Moments later, the punishment book duly signed, they hobbled out of the headmaster’s study with Trout’s words, “I trust you will all wear your caps in future,” still in their ears.

Trout sat down in his comfortable chair and opened the Daily Telegraph newspaper, satisfied that another schoolboy rebellion had been crushed.

Picture caption: The Hotspur.

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