Copyright 2026 by Governess, all rights reserved
[5,037 words]´
* * * * *ISOBEL, MARIA AND DOROTHY AND THEIR TWO BROTHERS HOWARD AND MILES PART I
After
my time with the Apthorpes, my next position was secured not through
advertisement but through a recommendation from Elaine Hayward whose
son, Frederick, I had tutored some years previously. The Castlemains
were a large family of three daughters, Isobel, Maria and Dorothy.
Isobel and Maria were nine and ten and Dorothy was the baby of the
family aged five. There were also two boys of eight and twelve.. Their
father was the owner and headmaster of a boys’ prep school, on an
estate of about a hundred acres in the glorious Dorset countryside.
This setting brought back memories of my own girlhood, for my father,
too, had owned a boys' prep school and of which he was headmaster.
Discipline was strict, with the housemasters making regular use of the
cane, while my father insisted that more serious matters were referred
to him. These included issues, such as lying, profanity, damaging
school property, repeated misbehaviour and of course immorality. At
four o’clock each afternoon boys who fell into such categories were
sent to wait outside his study; and were called in one by one to be
birched.
My father’s study was large with windows looking out
over the school grounds. In addition to my father’s impressive desk,
there was a table, with six upright chairs, two leather armchairs, and
bookcases running the length of two walls. And there, too, I had a desk
of my own where my father instructed me and oversaw my schoolwork.
There was also a small gymnasium buck, over which boys were flogged. My
father saw nothing inappropriate in birching boys in my presence and I
looked forward with a pleasurable excitement to witnessing those
punishment sessions. Most weeks there were at least a couple of days on
which boys were birched. Weeks when no boys were sent for correction
were a bitter disappointment.
However, the flogging horse was
by no means reserved exclusively for errant schoolboys. Just as he saw
nothing wrong with flogging boys in my presence, so he saw nothing
wrong in flogging me as if I were an errant schoolboy
So in
my appointment at the Castlemains, there was much that was familiar.
The girls had previously had a Scottish governess who after a year’s
service had returned to Fife. She had, said Mrs Castlemain, provided
good tuition, but her discipline was weak and too often erred on the
side of leniency. Five year old Dorothy was given to tantrums but those
had been indulged rather than punished.
During the school
term, the boys would eat in school and be wholly subject to school
discipline, while I would tutor the girls in the library of the
headmaster’s house . I and the girls were to eat with the family
several times a week, and at other times in the dining room attached to
my very agreeable quarters. During the school holidays and exeats, the
two boys were to join the girls wherever they were taking their meals,
and when out of school, would come entirely under my governance.
“And do you see the birch simply as part of their school discipline?”
“Certainly not, Miss Strang! Both my husband and I believe that the
birch should play a significant role in a boy’s life, and not just in
school.. However, Miss McCabe was reluctant to use it. Which, in part,
is why she is going. The governess before her had no such qualms. She
gave floggings immediately before bed, after which pyjama trousers were
pulled up, prayers said, and then straight into bed.”
Can you give me some idea of the number of strokes we are talking about?”
“Well, in school that of course depends on the boy’s age and what he
has done. Boys referred to the Headmaster are either in serious trouble
or are proving incorrigible and needing greater severity to teach them
the error of their ways. In these circumstances a normal birching would
consist of two dozen cuts. Here in the home the tariff of strokes would
be left entirely to your judgment.”
“You say ‘in serious trouble'. What exactly does that cover?””
“Going outside the school grounds without permission; stealing from a
fellow pupil; masturbation, especially with another boy. All those
would earn a boy a sound birching. In the last example, a very severe
birching indeed. But these are just examples.”
In further
discussion, it became clear that Mr Castlemain did not expect to
discipline children other than in the school but looked to his wife to
oversee discipline in the home. She, however, had no intention of
administering corporal correction herself, regarding that as the
responsibility of the governess whom she had appointed. So, apart from
naughtiness in the schoolroom, or where immediate punishment by me was
appropriate, the formula was for misdemeanours within the household to
be recorded in a punishment book and sins punished each Friday
afternoon at the end of the school day. Mrs Castlemain made clear that
she would often choose to witness any punishment given at that time.
During the first week, I had occasion to punish both girls.
Nine-year-old Isobel went over my knee for a dozen strokes of my
hairbrush; and ten-year-old Maria was turned over the arm of the sofa
tor four strokes of the tawse.
And then on Friday morning, I
checked the punishment book.. A quick glance revealed that for both
girls there were significant entries. During the week, Isobel had been
disobedient, guilty of lying, and of slovenly behaviour; while Maria
had a veritable catalogue of sins against her name.. Mrs Castlemain had
reminded me that I had been appointed on the personal recommendation of
Elaine Hayward, who had said that I could be trusted to provide firm
discipline and never to stint the rod. And that, she said, is what she
expected to see later that afternoon.”
At four o’clock, when Mrs Castlemain entered the schoolroom, both girls were waiting, seated in silence at their desks
“Stand up Isobel, and come out here.”
I handed her a list with her name on it
“Read it out, please Aloud. So that your mother and I can hear it.”
“It . . . it’s just a list.”
“Yes. A list of your naughtiness over the past week. Read it out"
Poor and inconsiderate table manners
Resentful and rude when chided
Calculated disobedience (on several occasions)
Chores left undone
Tardy response when asked to tidy away clothes
She
stood, biting her lip, enduring the added shame of her mother’s
presence. I let her anxiety increase, then taking back the list, I
slowly read it through again.
“Take off your shoes, Isobel,
and place them under your desk. And now lift up your dress, and pull
down your knickers. And step out of them.”
I let her stand for
a moment, before ordering her to remove her dress and divest herself of
all her clothing other than her cotton vest and black woollen
stockings. I have found the sense of being partially covered yet with
the area destined for punishment bare and exposed is always frightening
and shaming for a child.
(
“So, Isobel. Poor and inconsiderate table manners.’ What were they?”
“I . . . I didn’t pass the milk to Maria and when told to do so, I was
cross and spilt it on the table cloth. I said I was sorry.”
“So why were you sorry?”
“Be . . . because it was wrong.”
“Then, if you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?”
She looked down.
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Well. I do, Isobel. It’s because you are thoughtless. And if a girl is
thoughtless what is necessary to help her to remember in future?”
“A. . . a. . . ”
“Come along, Isobel. I want to hear you say it.”
“A . . . a spanking . . . Miss Strang.”
“So, let us see what else is on the list..”
I studied it and frowned.
“Resentful and rude when chided.
I hope you will agree that a girl who is resentful and rude needs more
than a spanking. So how would you expect to be punished for such
behaviour? Well?”
She looked down.
“So, how did your previous governess punish you if she considered a spanking an insufficient punishment?”
I waited patiently.
“She . . . she would punish us with a tawse.”
And so I continued through the list At the end I gave a sigh.
“Take off your vest. I want you standing just in your stockings. And pull them up, and get rid of the wrinkles.”
She tugged them up to the top of her thighs several inches below her
bottom. And stood there, nervous, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Come over here.”
She moved slowly, reluctantly, teetering on that borderline between obedience and defiance.
“At nine, Isobel, much better behaviour is to be expected of you. What
runs through this list is a disregard for authority, and a spirit of
disobedience. Put simply, you think you can do exactly what you want
and refuse to do as you’re told. You will receive two dozen strokes of
the tawse, followed by a sound spanking with my hairbrush.”
The library had a wooden library ladder for reaching the higher shelves
and I made the girl stand on the second to bottom step and place her
arms through the ladder and grasp the sides of the steps.
“And I warn you that if you attempt to move from that position or resist in any way, then I will have to tie your hands.”
I went across to my desk and retrieved the tawse. It was of medium
weight with two tails that would raise thick throbbing weals on the
girl’s flesh but also curl around and cut into her flanks. I never rush
a whipping. I want to leave not only visible marks but an all-consuming
fear that pervades a child’s whole life from waking to sleeping. Even
in sleep it should be the hot sweaty nightmare that lurks in every
dream.
And at the very mention of punishment, I want to see
a child suffused with shame; reduced to stammering confusion; and if
sent to fetch the implement of correction, acutely aware of the
tightness of their underwear hugging their round little bottom,
offering a protection, they know full well, will soon to be stripped
away, leaving their buttocks bare and ready for discipline.
I ran the tawse through my hand appreciating once again its weight and
punishing thickness. And I wondered how those who crafted it felt as
they finished their work, knowing it would soon be purchased by a
schoolmistress, parent or governess, and eagerly put to use. And it was
with such eagerness that I set to work to make Isobel smart for her
sins. I lashed the leather across her buttocks, slow steady strokes,
each leaving its imprint on soft flesh. Each cut was accompanied by a
piercing scream, and desperate wriggling.
After a dozen
strokes, I paused, and rolled down her stockings, and started on her
thighs, working my way from the fold just beneath her red smarting rump
down to the hollow of the knee. Six cuts across the back of each that
left her in a state of near hysteria, screaming, out of her mind,
believing that she was about to die. But as Solomon wisely said in his
Proverbs long ago
Withhold not correction from the child: for if thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die.
For
a moment, when I set aside the tawse, she believed her ordeal was over,
forgetting that she was yet to be spanked. But then she heard my
smacking the back of the hairbrush across my palm.
“So,
Isobel, apart from gross disobedience and rudeness, there were a number
of lesser failings during the week weren’t there? Poor table manners,
reluctance to attend to chores, some even left undone,. None of which
can be overlooked, and all of which need to be punished. Perhaps not
serious enough for the tawse but certainly requiring the attention of
my hairbrush.”
I looked at her sobbing on the library steps.
“I can spank you where you are Isobel, or I could put you across my
knee and spank you like the naughty little girl you are. Which would
you prefer?”
She was sobbing and could barely speak, but she managed to stammer out a reply.
“O . . . over your knee . . .”
I helped her down and holding her hand led her towards the library
table and pulled out one of the straight backed chairs. I sat down and
patted my lap. She placed herself obediently in position and I held her
there with my arm around her warm little body, pulling her against me.
At this point, sentiment might have caused some to reconsider her
sentence, to regard the wealed flesh as sufficient punishment. But true
discipline is not to be governed by sentiment but by need. And as a
wounded animal is enraged by the shot that wounds but does not kill, so
a partially punished child is angered, but not conquered and subdued.
So for me, the swell of her buttocks, marked and wealed though they
were, merely invited the further spanking that would lead to a complete
acceptance of my rule, and would instil a healthy fear of facing my
judgment again. Although the tawse had reduced her to tears, I could
see she was not yet fully broken and that essential spirit of
subservience not yet established. Her tears were tears of anger and
self-pity rather than tears of contrition and of sorrow for sins
committed.
In the end, it took three dozen strokes of the
hairbrush to bring her to that state of sobbing broken heartedness,
where a child is ready to prostrate herself before her tormentress,
clutching at her skirt, and kissing her again and again in a desperate
search for forgiveness. But a child must learn that forgiveness is not
a right to be demanded, but a gift to be conferred; and twelve times
more the hairbrush was raised and its hard smooth back smacked across
her already disciplined rump. I let her sob for several minutes and
then spoke firmly and gently.
“Stop crying, Isobel. And listen
to me. You have been thoroughly chastised to help you learn that I will
not accept disobedient, rude, and thoughtless behaviour, Pull up your
stocking and stand with your back to the wall, and watch while I punish
your sister”
I beckoned to Maria who reluctantly came forward,
to be stripped of her clothes, , and was soon standing similarly naked
but for her black woollen stockings. I handed her the list of her
recorded offences.
“Read them out, Maria, please. Loud and clear.”
Late for lunch. Surly. No apology
Rude to Mrs Browne, the new housekeeper
Lied about climbing on the roof
Argued about bedtime
Took food from the kitchen without permission
Disobeyed clear instruction to clean and tidy her room
Late down for breakfast. After earlier warning about need for punctuality
“You
may be only a year older than your sister, Maria, but you are the elder
and expected to set an example. Because of your lamentable failure to
do that, you will need to be beaten with additional severity.”
I took the list from her and ran my eye down the litany of her sins,
for sins I believed them to be. Some might choose to describe them as
childish failures requiring nothing more than a firm rebuke and the
extraction of a firm promise not to offend again. But that is to
misunderstand a child’s deeply flawed nature, stained and twisted by
the sin of Adam. Harsher measures than rebuke and encouragement are
required, if sin is not to gain the upper hand and spread like a cancer
through every aspect of a child’s life. At its root, sin is a malign
self-will, a wilful self-regard, that needs to be beaten out of a
child, forcing submission to the will of the mother or governess who
loves and cares for them. And that is why each particular sin, each
dereliction of duty, must be separately confronted and punished.
I frowned.
“Apart from your poor punctuality, Maria, all the wrongdoings listed
here are so serious that you need to be punished with a thoroughness
and severity that reflects that”
I turned to Mrs Castlemain.
“Rudeness, gross disobedience, self-will, and a readiness to lie and to
choose dishonesty over truthfulness. I am inclined to think, Mrs
Castlemain, that what this child probably needs is a good birching.”
“Well, Miss Strang that is for you to decide.”
I turned to Maria who looked pale and anxious, as well she might.
“Tell me, Maria, have you seen a boy’s bottom after it’s been birched.”
She hung her head and whispered ashamedly.
“Yes, Miss Strang.”
“And whose bottom was that?”
“Miles’s, Miss Strang. When Miss Caversham was our governess..”
“I see. So did he offer to show you his bottom or did you ask to see it?”
She was suffused in shame and confusion and could barely reply.
“I . . . I asked him to show me.”
“And he did?”
“Yes, Miss Strang.”
“So, what was his bottom like after being birched?”
“It was . . . it was red and blotchy, as if it had been stung all over
by nettles . . . and . . . and there were long raised stripes, that . .
. that looked . . . looked very sore.”
“And that is exactly
how a bottom ought to look after a birching. And that, Maria, is how
your own bottom would look after being birched.”
I paused.
“However, on this occasion, I do not intend to birch you. You will be
flogged with a tawse, but a heavier tawse than was used to punish your
sister. As I said, in your case additional severity is required in view
of your age and the seriousness of your offences.”
And I passed sentence.
“Eight strokes for your rudeness to Mrs Browne, eight strokes for your
wilfully arguing and disobeying, four strokes for deceitfully taking
food from the kitchen, and four strokes for your general tardiness and
untidiness. And six strokes for your brazen request to your brother to
show you his bottom. Thirty strokes. After which you will spanked, as
your sister was spanked to impress upon you that you are still a child
and subject to strict discipline. I suspect that you consider yourself
older than your years, and deserving of privileges that are not yet
yours to have. And that must be beaten out of you for your own good.”
I turned to her mother.
“Are you content with what is proposed, Mrs Castlemain?”
“Yes, Miss Strang. Please continue.”
“Rather than securing her to the library steps, I am going to turn her
over the back of the armchair. Perhaps you would hold her in position?”
“Certainly, Miss Strang.”
I went over to my desk, and pulling open the central drawer, took out
the tawse. I ran it through my hand and then slapped the end lightly
over my palm. The leather was thick and solid. Lashed across Maria’s
soft little bottom, with the force I intended, her flogging would raise
frightening weals and each stroke would be an insupportable agony.
I was under no illusion that most would regard the punishment of
Isobel,and that about to be given to Maria, as exceptionally severe.
But clearly Mrs Castlemain was not of that persuasion. Her eagerness to
witness her daughters’ punishment made that very clear. So, stretched
over the armchair, ten-year-old Maria was flogged with the
participation of her mother, and then spanked over my knee. Then, in
only her stockings, she stood with her sister sobbing, both now facing
the wall.
I turned to Mrs Castlemain.
“I trust that
the discipline the girls have received has met your expectations, Mrs
Castlemain. It’s my belief that a no-nonsense approach at the outset
reduces the need for discipline subsequently; and the girls are left in
no doubt about the consequences should they choose to disobey.”
Mrs Castlemain smiled.
“I am more than delighted, Miss Strang. For some time now, my husband
has been complaining that the girls were not being disciplined
sufficiently, which was why, when we needed a replacement for Miss
McCabe, I asked Elaine Hayward’s for her recommendation. Her son,,
Frederick, always struck me as a polite, well-behaved boy, and I now
understand why. She said you would strip him naked and cane him
whenever he fell short of your expectations, and that brought about a
remarkable improvement in his behaviour. And I’m sure we’ll see the
same for our children. I know my husband has also been concerned for
the boys. Discipline in school is one thing, but that in the home is
different again. Our last governess was really not up to the job.. Both
boys laughed behind her back at her attempts to discipline them. In my
view, what they need at the moment are the marks of a sound birching
permanently imprinted on their bottoms, I take it that you are quite
comfortable using the birch on boys of Miles's and Howard's ages?”
I smiled
“Yes, Mrs Castlemain. I’m quite comfortable using the birch on any
child, but not to prepare the rods myself. But then someone must
already do that for the school. With all those boys, it must be a
full-time job!”
“Yes. The school groundsman, Bridges, binds
them up and keeps⁷ a selection in steep for the school. He's a gem.
Keeps the whole school running,”
“So how many rods does the school get through in a week?”
“:I’d say two or three, sometimes a few more. Fortunately, there's plenty of birch in the grounds and no risk of any shortage.”
“Given the spread of ages, is the same size rod used throughout the school?”
“No. The first years, under the age of eight, are spared the birch
until their second year. And then it is a lighter rod. If a boy in the
top two years earns a birching, it is with a heavier rod.
“And apart from the birch?”
“Well, discipline in the classroom is maintained by each master as he
judges appropriate, and within each house by the housemaster. In both
cases, usually with a cane. First years, for offences that would result
in an older boy being referred to the Headmaster, are sent to Matron.
And she would administer a very severe spanking on the boy’s bare
bottom. All the younger boys live in fear of Matron’s hairbrush.”
I nodded.
“Thank you, Mrs Castlemain. So let me be clear about my
responsibilities when the boys are under my governance. From what Maria
said, I gather that they are eight and twelve and their names are Miles
and Howard. So which is which?”
“Howard is the eight-year-old and Miles is twelve.”
“So, I suppose for the boys, taking account of the school regime, your
expectation is that the birch would be regularly employed. Is that
right?”
“Well, how you punish the two boys is entirely for you
to determine, Miss Strang. When I appoint a governess I expect her to
respect my wish for strong, effective discipline, but how she
interprets that and allows it to inform her practice is for her to
decide. I have made it clear that I believe the boys should be birched
but the extent and occasions are for you to decide.”
I smiled.
“Although you said a moment ago that what they both need are the marks
of a sound birching permanently imprinted on their bottoms.”
She nodded.
“Well, that’s possibly a bit of an exaggeration. But I do believe that
the birch should be considered more often as the preferred implement of
correction. But it is for you to decide.”
“And if I choose to
birch a boy, would the same weight of birch be used for Miles and
Howard?. There is quite a difference of age between them.”.
“Again that is your choice, Miss Strang. You have only to instruct Mr
Bridges who already prepares different weights of birches for the
school. The only thing I would add is that the birch is meant to carry
a threat by its very presence, and inspire fear in the heart of a boy.
A birch that is too light may merely tickle the bottom to a tingling,
smarting red, and quickly lose its reputation. Such a birch I found
excellent for a child who has just been toilet trained, but when a
little older, then the hairbrush became for me the implement of choice,
with the birch coming into its own a few years later.
She paused.
“So the message is, Miss Strang, you are to punish them as you see fit, providing the required level of severity.”
I smiled.
“I fully understand. May I say, Mrs Castlemain, that you show a
remarkable understanding of the need for effective punishment. I have
turned down appointments because the parents were reluctant to see
their children even spanked, let alone birched. And stripping their
offspring naked for punishment would have been completely anathema. It
is a joy to work with a mother who shares my own commitment to corporal
correction. Isobel and Maria have been soundly flogged with my tawse.
And to good effect. But with your encouragement, I will certainly
consider birching both girls should I judge that appropriate if faced
with particularly egregious misbehaviour.”
“I certainly
approve of that. I have never seen any reason why girls should be
spared a punishment that their brothers have to endure as a matter of
course. So, if at any time you consider a birching appropriate, please
do not hesitate. I will ask Mr Bridges to have two or three rods of
varying weights steeping in the schoolroom ready for use.
“Now the Punishment Book where offences are entered during the week and
dealt with on Friday is kept on the hallstand. There are only three
people who are allowed to make entries. I, as their mother, you, as
their governess; and Mrs McCracken, the housekeeper. Mrs McCracken has
no authority to punish the children, but will enter every offence that
comes to her attention or is reported to her. Sometimes, if she judges
an offence to be sufficiently serious and to require immediate
correction, she will alert one of us. But in most cases, punishment is
postponed until the Friday. Then, on Friday you will check the book and
administer the necessary punishments.”
“And where would I do that?”
“I would strongly suggest here, in the library which as you have seen is used as the schoolroom.”
So, I would be handed the list during the morning?”
“Yes. Under Miss McCabe punishments were administered, as they were
today immediately after school.. But my preference would be, as under
Miss Caversham, Miss McCabe’s predecessor, that they should occur at
six o’clock, after supper, here in the library. The children would
report to you in their nightclothes; be stripped, beaten and then sent
to bed. Older children, too, who would normally have a later bedtime..
No concessions, no reading, no play time. Just straight to bed. Washing
and toilet would need to be completed before they reported to the
schoolroom.”
I nodded.
“That seems entirely
appropriate. I take it that if during an exeat or vacation both boys
and girls have entries against their names, you have no objection to
their being punished together?”
“None, Miss Strang. Children
who are defiant and disobedient lose any right to such consideration.
The more deeply they feel their disgrace, the better. For a boy to
squirm and redden as he displays his shrunken manhood before the gaze
of his sister or, if older, the shame of struggling to control an
erection; or for a girl to shiver in her nakedness as her brother
stares at her nakedness; they are to be welcomed for they make
humiliation and embarrassment even more bitter.”
I looked at
the two girls facing the wall in their stockings, their buttocks
radiating heat and shame. Soon, I thought, there would be two boys
standing there, both displaying the distinctive marks of the birch,
looking as though they had been stung by an army of soldier ants.
The tawse had been reduced both girls to a sobbing contrition, but now
I would have the choice of swishing those leathery birch twigs across
their soft, plump little haunches. Their mother had extolled the
versatility of the birch, declaring its suitability for a small child
just out of nappies and ready for the pot, a tiny, compact bottom that,
she said, responded well to being tickled to a glowing pink with light
but punishing strokes. How much more delightful would it be, applied
with greater vigour, to the full rounded buttocks of these two girls.
“And a couple more things about the entries in the Punishment Book.
They will cover the children’s conduct up to bedtime on Thursday. So,
if after reading the entries, you consider a birch to be required, you
may inform Mr Bridges during the course of Friday morning,. Unless
there has been an outbreak of shocking delinquency, a couple of rods
ought to suffice.”
She thought for a moment.
“Now,
the boys’ discipline being split between here and school has always
presented problems. On an exeat weekend, as both boys are back in
school on Monday, they will not be here on the following Friday for the
weekly punishment session. My preference has always been for any
offences over the exeat to be punished on Sunday before bedtime and to
send them back to school the following morning with a red and smarting
bottom.”
I nodded.
“And as this is an exeat weekend,
and as it is Friday, you may need to put that into practice sooner than
you think. The boys should be back by now. I expect you are eager to
meet them.”
“Yes, Mrs Castlemain. Indeed I am.”