Tawsed!

An English boy gets punished the Scots way

MOVING TO SCOTLAND

When my father was offered a job with a bank in Edinburgh in 1971 our family moved to the Scots capital from London. I was fourteen years old and attending a London public school as a dayboy. One compensation of moving to Scotland, according to my father, was the excellence of the education system. He said that there was a good selection of schools in Edinburgh at least as good as my present establishment and that I would soon find my feet.

The Scots capital proved quite a contrast to London. In many ways the quality of life on offer was much better and the city and its surrounding countryside were certainly beautiful. I was rather nervous about my new school (rather grandly called an 'academy') but I soon discovered that it was run on English public school lines, with gowned masters, prefects, cadet corps etc. In fact discipline was stricter than at my London school, with numerous rules and regulations, but pupils seemed to accept the restrictions with equanimity. One difference compared with England was that the cane was nowhere in evidence; however, I soon became aware that the disciplinary system did include corporal punishment, albeit of a rather different kind.

The school took both boarders and dayboys. Boarders had to do ninety minutes 'prep' in the evenings and we dayboys were expected to put in the same amount of time at home. Of course not being supervised like the boarders we were tempted to skimp on the work but I soon discovered what this could lead to when my form was tested on the Latin we were supposed to have learnt the evening before. Three boys, who had failed to come up to scratch, were summoned to the front of the class. The master produced a long brown leather strap from the inside of his jacket and ordered the first miscreant to 'cross hands.' The boy held out his left hand, fingers extended and supported beneath by the right hand, and the master brought the three-tongued strap down lengthways across his palm and fingers at what seemed supersonic speed, producing a terrible cracking sound. To my amazement the boy did not appear to flinch but kept his hand steady as two more equally nasty cuts were delivered.

This operation was repeated for the other two lads who had failed the test and I noticed that when they returned to their desks they sat with their left hands pushed into the opposite armpit in an attempt to ease the pain. The master then returned his strap to his inside jacket pocket and the lesson continued. I, in the meantime, made a resolution never to skimp on my homework.

MY FIRST BELTING

I soon found that 'belting' was a way of life at the academy. Many boys became hardened to the effects of the tawse (or so they claimed) and there was certainly a kudos to be gained from taking your punishment without flinching. Usually the belt was given on an offender's non-writing hand, but for more serious offences boys could be tawsed on both hands. There was no ceremony to the punishment. You were called out to the front of the class and took your punishment there and then in full view of the other boys. This was quite unlike corporal punishment at the English schools I had attended which was administered in private and given across the offender's backside with a slipper (junior school) and cane (senior school).

I had a nasty feeling that I wasn't going to get through my time at the Edinburgh school without experiencing the tawse for myself. Certainly I tried to stay out of trouble and I managed to avoid a belting for the whole of my first term. But not long into my second term I was caught cheating in class during one of the periodic homework tests (ironically I had prepared a crib sheet because of my fear of a belting if I should fail the test). There were two of us up for the high jump and the master punished the other boy (who had not cheated, but had merely failed the test) first, giving him two cuts with a venerable looking belt. The lad hardly flinched and gave me a smile as he returned to his desk.

Before he dealt with me the master lectured me about how wrong it was to cheat. 'You won't get anywhere in life by cheating,' he said, which sounded rather erroneous to me. After all, many businessmen and politicians had surely prospered by cheating, I thought to myself. I was made to hold out my left hand, supported by the right hand in the usual way, and then watched in trepidation as the master raised the three-tailed tawse and brought it down very hard across my fingers and palm. The smarting pain was intense, but I managed to keep my hand in place (the eyes of the entire class were upon me, after all) for two more excruciating cuts which left my palm and fingers throbbing with pain.

'Now the other hand...' I thought I must be in a dream as I heard those terrible words. 'Come on - hold out your other hand lad. Cheating's a serious business.'

My legs felt that they were turning to jelly and I felt sick deep in the pit of my stomach as I offered my right palm to the vicious strap, supported by a left hand which still throbbing in agony. The thick leather tawse rose and descended three more times, leaving my right hand sore and blistered, and I shuffled back to my desk. My hands felt as though they had been immersed in boiling water and I automatically thrust them under my armpits, trying to ignore the smarting. My hands were still sore as I left the classroom for the morning break and because of my red and swollen fingers I found it rather uncomfortable to hold my bottle of milk.

The one compensation was the compliments I received from my classmates who were genuineley impressed by the brave way I had taken my 'double hander'. I was to suffer a few more beltings in the years that followed but none proved quite so traumatic as that first encounter with traditional Scots discipline.