Memories: Sound of the caning echoed through the school

 If headmaster Mr Strick was in a “good” mood the caning would be administered in quick strokes, crack! crack! crack! with no delay. In this way the searing pain only welled up once. This was considered by us to be merciful or perhaps just lucky for the poor individual.

If Mr Strick was in a bad mood there would be a delay of up to 10 seconds between the strokes of the cane. This would allow the bruised and cut flesh to reach its highest level of pain before the cane descended again. This was not a good experience.

Bob Buntine remembers his days as an 11-year-old at the Humphry Davy Grammar School, Penzance, England.

On my first day I was overwhelmed. It was a typically huge, grey, granite, Cornish building with a large hall and a first floor balcony. All the classrooms opened onto either one or the other. The single exception was the office of Mr Strick the headteacher, which dominated one end of the balcony. The older boys, who showed us around on that first morning, spoke of the office in a fearful and mysterious way but we didn’t really understand why.

When we were finally settled and sent off to our first lesson I just happened to be the last in the line. We were told to enter the classroom and, as I had been taught, I started to shut the door behind me. Before I could finish however the teacher bellowed, “Boy! Do not close the door. The door always stays open!” As the day went on we quickly learnt this was a firm rule throughout the school. We all wondered about this but had to wait about six weeks before discovering the reason.

At that time we were sitting in a French lesson when suddenly an electric sounding crack! resonated around the school. Our teacher stopped in mid-sentence, stared into the distance, seemingly lost in his own thoughts and slowly but quietly said, “One.” He said no more but continued to stare into space as if waiting. To this day I believe we could have misbehaved in any way we wanted at that moment but of course we too were gripped by the awful and sudden realisation of what was going on. We were in fact, in the process of learning a noise that would stay with us for the rest of our lives. After a few seconds a second crack! echoed round those granite walls and the teacher, who wasn’t looking at us at all, quietly said, “Two.” After about 20 more seconds he stopped waiting and returned to the lesson continuing from the exact mid-sentence spot he had stopped.

The next time this happened we were also in a French lesson, although in a different room which led out onto the balcony with Mr Strick’s office at the far end. After about 10 minutes of the lesson we suddenly heard crack! crack! crack!  This was a very different sound as they almost merged into one. Once again the teacher stopped, stared into space and with less hesitation this time said, “Three”. On each occasion we couldn’t wait to get into the playground to find out who had been caned and why.

By now of course, we had realised the classroom doors were left open so the whole school could hear the sound of a boy being caned. After all, what better way could there be to put fear into the hearts and minds of young boys?

As time went by however we also discovered there was a world of science involved in the art of caning. It turned out there were eight rules. They were:

1. The maximum number of strokes was six.

2. If Mr Strick was in a “good” mood the caning would be administered in quick strokes, crack! crack! crack! with no delay. In this way the searing pain only welled up once. This was considered by us to be merciful or perhaps just lucky for the poor individual.

3. If Mr Strick was in a bad mood there would be a delay of up to 10 seconds between the strokes of the cane. This would allow the bruised and cut flesh to reach its highest level of pain before the cane descended again. This was not a good experience.

4. The very worst caning experience however not only involved a long delay in between strokes but also included a piece of chalk being rubbed along the cane before the torture started. This would then leave a mark on the black trousers of the poor boy’s bottom after the first stroke under which the cut flesh could develop with a searing level of pain before the cane would be aimed at exactly the same spot. I will leave the outcome of this to your imagination.

5. If you were caned your Mum and Dad must not find out, as things could only get worse. We quickly learnt it was essential to let the wound scab over before you washed your underpants in cold water to remove the blood stains. Then you had to dry them on a radiator (not an uncommon sight) before you got home. The most important point was NEVER to wash your underpants in hot water which fixed the blood stain into the material and gave the game away.

6. Make sure you know the school song (I could sing it now). At any point in the day the HT could stop you and ask you to recite the words. Failure meant one stroke of the cane and another test the next day.

7. If you saw another boy being asked to recite the school song, look at the ground and walk the other way as quickly as possible.

8. If asked to recite the school song, nerves are your worst enemy.

There was in fact an unofficial ninth rule that we all instinctively followed. This involved each boy, as he left a classroom for another lesson, looking long and hard at the outside of Mr Strick’s office to see if some poor individual was waiting to be caned. If this happened to be the case, very little attention was paid to what the teacher was saying. We were all waiting apprehensively to find out how many strokes and how long were the gaps. Each time I looked up and saw a boy standing there I promised myself it would never be me. I was wrong.

Extracted from Teenage Years and the cane on the Assembly Tales for Real Kids website.

Picture credit: Unknown.

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