Memories of getting the belt are part of the past that shaped our lives
Teachers had a variety of ways in which they administered punishment. Some kept their strap in their desks, while others were known to wear it over their shoulder, so it could be easily accessed and applied – the John O’Groat Journal and Cathness Courier looked back to life in rural northern Scotland.
Memories
of ‘getting the belt’ in Caithness are all part of the past that shaped our
lives
Growing up in Caithness
meant attending school. There were of course exceptions and exemptions,
particularly in the rural schools where farm work was considered a necessity,
although many learnt as much on the farm as they did at school.
Others of course, town and
country, simply absconded and a visit from the ‘wheeper in’ followed.
Where the parents were
found to be guilty of unofficially keeping their children at home, they could
find themselves at odds with the courts. Children who were found to be simply
skipping school might, on their return, encounter the tawse.
The tawse, or corporal
punishment, was banned in Scotland’s state schools in 1987 (private schools
eventually followed suit 10 years later), but for many of us the tawse was all
too real, and we have a variety of memories of teachers who ‘wielded the
strap’. Teachers also had a variety of ways in which they administered the
punishment. Some kept the instrument in their desks, while others were known to
wear it over their shoulder, so it could be easily accessed and applied.
The preferred supplier of
the tawse to schools was the firm of John J Dick Leather Goods of Lochgelly in
Fife – hence the name often given, the Lochgelly Tawse.
The Wick
Heritage Museum has wonderful examples of three versions of the
tawse – one with two tongues, a third that offered a three-pronged approach and
relative subsequent mark and one that had five tongues! All three sit proudly
in the schoolroom display, hanging over the teacher’s desk, ready for action.
The John O’Groat Journal
of 1884 highlighted one Thurso teacher who kept and applied three different
named versions – The Constable, which was a soft pliable tawse; the Baillie,
which was a stiff hard belt that left a significant mark; and finally the
Sheriff, which was only brought out on criminal occasions.
One teacher (not named)
back in 1880 apparently replaced his tawse with a knotted piece of rope about
three quarters of an inch thick. “He would cause the offender to be taken up on
the back of a fellow scholar, when the kilt was turned up and the lower part of
the body laid bare and then the knotted rope was applied without mercy.”
To counter that, a Mr
Craig, teacher at Bower, “when a boy or girl got tired and listless, he wasn’t
brightened by the tawse. No, he or she was marched up to the schoolhouse for a
cup of tea”.
Caithness’s eminent
historian, James Traill Calder, was also a teacher, and he too is recorded as
making use of the tawse. A report from 1901 describes Mr Calder as “capable and
conscientious and generally gave much encouragement especially to scholars he
considered ‘clever’. However, everyday fare included a “smack of his tawse”.
Our heritage is everywhere
and includes everything we did or experienced throughout our Caithness lives.
Memories of ‘getting the belt’ tend to stick with us and we are glad it is now
forbidden, but the thing about our heritage is that it was often the norm at
the time, and we should remember it as a key part of the past that has shaped
our present and hopefully will inform our future.
The tawse is now an item of
heritage which allows us to look back and see how our ancestors lived, worked,
played and were punished.
As published in
John O’Groat Journal and
Cathness Courier, 23 October 2021
Picture credit: John
O’Groat Journal and Cathness Courier.
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