A personal account of an Isle of Man birching

My first job on leaving school was working for the Isle of Man Steamship Company. In 1962, during a stay in the Manx capital Douglas, I got involved in a fight with a couple of lads. It was very nerve wracking for me as a young lad to be arraigned before the Manx magistrates since they had a reputation for giving short shrift to any sort of thuggish behaviour.

I must admit that I did not expect to be sentenced to a flogging. Of course I knew all about the Manx birch, for it was the subject of lighthearted banter amongst the crews on the boats. When we went off duty in Douglas, the parting remark was often 'mind you don't get birched'. I was told before the hearing that it was possible I would receive a birching, but that this was unlikely since I was pleading guilty. So I felt stunned when the magistrates sentenced me to six strokes.

The birching was a traumatic experience which is still etched into my memory. The policemen in the birching room appeared to enjoy my plight and I can recall a constable asking me what my friends would think if they could see me now with my trousers and underpants being pulled down to expose my bare buttocks for a good thrashing.

The entire ritual was humiliating. Two burly policemen held my arms, while another pulled down my trousers and pants. Why was I not given to opportunity of removing my own clothing? (I was later informed that this was because some offenders refused to co-operate, and even became aggressive.) The birch hurt a lot, much worse than I expected. The Manx birch is a severe instrument of punishment and when the knotty hazel branches lash across an offender's bare buttocks the pain produced is indescribable.

At first, I felt very ashamed about what had happened to me, and would not talk about it. When I arrived home, my parents were obviously very angry, and concerned that I had set a bad example to my younger brothers. As regards my brothers, to them I was some sort of hero. They wanted to hear all the gory details, and see for themselves the livid weals emblazoned across my buttocks!

I sometimes wonder why the prospect of the birch did not deter me at the outset. I was certainly aware that the Isle of Man sometimes birched young offenders, but knew very little about what was actually involved. I suppose I was under the impression that the birch was reserved for serious crimes. In addition, I was rather drunk at the time which must have clouded my judgement.

Incidentally, the other lads involved in the fight got off much more lightly. One boy received a conditional discharge and the other was fined.