Leaves from Miss Strang's Journal: Isobel, Maria and Dorothy and Their Two Brothers Howard and Miles Part IV

By Governess

Copyright 2026 by Governess, all rights reserved

[2,682 words]´

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ISOBEL, MARIA AND DOROTHY AND THEIR TWO BROTHERS HOWARD AND MILES PART IV

She picked up a blue cushion from the sofa and pulling out an upright chair seated herself, and placed the cushion on her lap.

“As you were listening, Miles, you know what is expected of you.”

Mrs Donaldson patted the cushion.

“Come along, Miles. Over my lap and take your medicine.”

She smiled, watching as I ran the thick leather tails through my hand.

“It may be bitter and unpleasant, but it will do you good.”

Again, she smiled.

“And if necessary, the dose can be increased. Isn’t that right, Miss Strang?””

Pale and anxious, he laid himself across the cushion. I made sure he was at a convenient angle for the flogging with his buttocks facing forward rather than square on. Mrs Donaldson’s arm curled around his shoulder, pinning his arm against her and gripping him tightly. I bent down and rucked his pyjama top halfway up his back.

I rested the tawse over my shoulder and then, flicking it up, brought it heavily down across the tense waiting buttocks. He gave a choking scream-filled sob.. I let him writhe in Mrs Donaldson’s grasp, enjoying his small pink squirming bottom, before giving the next stroke which I aimed just below the crease of the buttocks. He screamed, threshing helplessly, shrieking and pleading for the punishment to cease. My response was to place the next stroke across the fleshy back of his right thigh, and feeling a deep satisfaction at the red mark that was immediately printed there. I gave another and then another, and then paused.

I could see that Mrs Donaldson was not only comfortable with the part she was playing in the boy’s punishment, but was actively enjoying it. Her left arm was around the boy with her hand tucked beneath his body. But the other hand, I noticed, had slipped beneath the cushion. She was wearing a work dress with front buttons and I could imagine how a button or two had become undone with her hand slipping into the gap.

After the boy’s thorough flogging, he struggled off my lap, and I made him stand face to the wall, displaying the marks of chastisement. His whole body was shaking, racked by great choking sobs. Often you can detect in a boy’s sobbing a residual anger or self-pity, but this was deeply heartfelt without the slightest artifice about it.

A few moments later, the door opened and Mrs Castlemain entered.

“I thought I heard the sound of a boy being disciplined. So you have already employed the services of Mrs Donaldson have you, Miss Strang.?” And what had Miles done?”

“He argued with me about the hour’s tuition I required of the children before bed. And he had the impudence to object as he was expecting to play with his soldiers. Mrs Donaldson was telling me about the boys she saw tawsed when she was working for the police as a girl. So, yes, she helped me provide the flogging that was needed.”

His mother stepped across and ran her hand over his bottom and the back of his left thigh. He flinched.

“Well, I appointed you, Miss Strang, on the recommendation of Elaine Hayward. She was thrilled at the way you licked her Frederick into shape. And I am equally thrilled to see you doing the same with our children.”

When she had departed, and I had thanked Mrs Donaldson, I told Miles to pull on his pyjama bottoms and go and kneel by his bed.

“ì will be up to say prayers in a moment, And if you are anywhere but on your knees, Miles, there’ll be trouble.”

I took my time tidying the schoolroom. His bedroom was uncarpeted, and he would find it increasingly painful on the hard boards. When I went up I found him largely slumped over the bed, relieving the pressure on his knees.

“I told you to kneel by the bed, Miles, not over it. Stand up!”

He started to cry as I undid the cord and made him step out of his pyjama bottoms and then unbuttoned and removed the jacket.

“Step away from the bed and kneel properly. And keep a straight back with your hands on your head. I am going to check everyone else has settled down. When I return, I expect to see you just as you are now. If not, you will be getting a further dozen strokes of my tawse instead of the spanking you’ve already earned.”

All the other children had obeyed my instructions and were in bed. Isobel had already fallen asleep. I said a short prayer over each of them and then returned to Miles. I suspected he had eased his back while I was absent, but on hearing me return had immediately straightened up. However I set aside my suspicions.

“Good boy. Now you remain like that while I fetch the hairbrush.”

The brush from my room was of rosewood, with a smooth flat back and kept for spankings that might, be required in the children’s bedrooms. Each bedroom had an upright chair on which the child’s clothes were placed overnight. This also served as a spanking chair when needed. I studied Miles’s bottom. After thirty-six strokes of the tawse, his buttocks apart from being inflamed had thick raised ridges and in some places where the strokes had overlaid each other, the skin had broken and there was some oozing and wetness. For his impudence in slumping over the bed, I determined to give him a further dozen hard strokes with the back of the hairbrush. Punishment administered to an already ravaged bottom while it supplies a frisson of cruelty lacks the freshness of a spanking on unblemished flesh. And what mother cannot remember the very first spanking she gave, when a whipping was as yet a threat unrealised, and the shock of a hairbrush being smacked across a soft little bottom, was a warning of future constraints that would be imposed on the growing child.

I turned the whimpering boy over my knee, placing six of twelve meaty strokes across the tender backs of his thighs. Tearful and now utterly broken, he wriggled off my lap, and clambered into bed. He did not bother to put on his pyjamas but simply dived within the protective cover of the cold sheets. I smiled and felt a surge of affection for this small boy, as I kissed him and settled him down. He reached out and wrapped his arms around my neck, hugging me in return. Normally, I would have ordered him out of bed and back on his knees for prayers, but I assured him he was forgiven and said a brief prayer over him, insisting that he join with me at the end with the Lord’s Prayer.

After half-an-hour, I checked that the children were all settled down and asleep. All were, including Miles. I have found that a sound spanking has a strongly soporific effect on a child. It is emotionally draining and physically tiring and, once the head hits the pillow, any resistance to sleep dissolves and the child, now forgiven and reconciled, slips into a deep slumber. Miles was lying face down on the bed with the sheets tossed aside, and his bottom exposed to the cool evening air.

When I returned downstairs, I found Mrs Donaldson had placed the report she had mentioned on the small table by the door of my apartment. I picked it up and began to read, and felt my scalp tingle at the graphic account of the flogging the boy had received.

Surgeon’s Report

Date: 17 February 1878

Location: Glasgow Police Station A Room No. 2

Subject: James M., aged 14

Offence: Theft (third conviction)

Sentence: 36 strokes of the leather tawse,, under warrant at 10:30 a.m. Decision taken to administer to bare buttocks.

Examination Time: 11:05 a.m.

Medical Examiner: Dr. Andrew B. Lennox, Police Surgeon, City of Glasgow

Observation and Findings:

General Condition:

The subject presented as physically sound prior to punishment. Height 5'6", weight 9 st 4 lbs. No prior medical concerns noted in his file.

After Punishment:

Buttocks exceedingly swollen and discoloured, presenting a mottled appearance of deep purple, blue, and black bruising across the gluteal region.

Numerous raised weals, some exceeding half an inch in height, particularly across the central portion of the buttocks where strokes overlapped.

Five distinct splits in the skin observed — two on the right cheek, one central, and two smaller on the left — approximately ¾ inch in length, showing light bleeding and serous fluid.

The boy showed difficulty standing upright and expressed acute pain when attempting to sit or lower himself to the bench.

Pulse: Slightly elevated at 102 bpm.

Skin temperature: Normal; no signs of systemic shock.

Mental state: Oriented but distressed; tearful and fatigued.

Medical Assessment:

The injuries sustained are consistent with heavy corporal punishment using a leather strap of judicial grade. While no signs of internal injury or systemic complications were present, the extent of bruising and local trauma is considerable.

Continued application beyond 36 strokes would pose a risk of deeper tissue damage or secondary infection at the sites of skin rupture.-

Recommendations:

Rest in a prone position for 48 hours.

Warm saline compresses to reduce swelling.

Avoid further physical exertion.

Dressing with carbolic gauze over open wounds.

Monitor for signs of infection (fever, pus, discolouration).

Follow-up review in 3 days if pain persists or worsening of symptoms.---

Signed:

Dr. A. B. Lennox,

Police Surgeon, City of Glasgow
WI

I read it through again, quite mesmerised by the thought of weals that were over half an inch in height. Miles, I thought, had got off lightly, but I doubted if he thought so. I had used a medium weight tawse on the boy, whereas the boy for his third conviction for theft had received thirty-six strokes with an extra heavyweight belt. And later, talking to Mrs Donaldson, she told me that the tawses for judicial floggings in Glasgow were procured from a local maker and were hand-made from imported buffalo hide . They were, she said, of a frightening weight and thickness, as was evident from Dr Lennox’s report.

I mounted the stairs, and quietly entered Miles’s room. He was still face down, asleep, with his bottom fully exposed. Although his flogging couldn’t compare to that of James M, I felt a deep satisfaction at the visible evidence of my handiwork. Nevertheless, reading Dr Lennox's report had stirred in me an eagerness to beat the boy with even greater severity. Miles was only two years young than the fourteen year old Glasgow delinquent, but I saw no reason why an unbroken voice and smooth hairless skin should protect him. Mrs Donaldson had referred to a history of troublesome and impudent behaviour; and although I found the boy not impolite, beneath the superficially compliant behaviour, I sensed an insolent and contrary spirit. I determined to make an early visit to the local saddlers and procure a heavier tawse.

However, while Mrs Donaldson was firmly of the opinion that a tawse, if sufficiently robust, more than equalled a birch in its punishing power, I was aware that Mr Castlemain had expressed a preference for the birch. It has always been my policy that, if there is a difference of opinion between myself and a child’s parents, then they should have the final word, and if I consider their decision unacceptable, then I offer my resignation. However before that point is reached, I expect to have a thorough discussion and seek to establish an acceptable way forward. So, I broached the issue with her that evening.

“May I have a word, Mrs Castlemain?”

“Of course, Miss Strang. Is there a problem?”

“I hope not. At least not something that cannot be resolved.”

“So, tell me. I am all curiosity.”

“Well, after a discussion with Mrs Donaldson, I would prefer to restrict the use of the birch to the schoolroom, and punish other challenges to my authority with the tawse. I trust that is acceptable to you.”

Mrs Castlemain shook her head.

“Miss Strang, how many times do I have to tell you that such decisions are entirely for you? I may have said the boys should have the marks of the birch permanently imprinted on their bottoms, but I just might as well said ‘the marks of the tawse' or ‘the marks of the cane’. My concern is that they should be flogged, regularly and with sufficient severity to leave marks that will often still be visible when the next flogging needs to be given. I believe the birch had much to commend it, but if you wish to restrict its use to the schoolroom, then so be it. But tell me the circumstances in which you would use it?”

“As an aid to achieving excellence in academic work. The sight of two or three birch rods in the corner, ready for use, is a potent encouragement to any child to apply themselves. Some believe that making a lesson interesting and attractive is enough. But there is much learning that is simply a hard, unrelenting slog. Self-discipline is required to succeed, and a child acquires that in the same way as a young colt: through being broken to bit and bridle by the sustained application of the whip.

“But even when tamed to hard work, a child may flag, or be diverted by temptation and need to be driven back on the path of learning and effort. And for that a brisk birching is the ideal solution. I have always believed a child should be set a demanding quantity of work and punished if it is not completed in a given time. And for that, too, the swishiness of the birch is an excellent response. The only occasion when I prefer an implement other than the birch is for weekly tests. Then, the child is spanked, two strokes of the hairbrush for every question unattempted or incorrectly answered,”

Later, in my room, I sat at my desk and wrote up my diary and then pondered on the week so far. Of the four children, two had yet to be punished. Nothing special had been said about Howard, although he had been sufficiently naughty to be birched and slippered at school and I had promised that, were there any misbehaviour over the exeat weekend, he would be returning to school on Monday with a well birched bottom.

And Dorothy? Mrs Castlemain had said that she was given to tantrums that had been inadequately confronted and dealt with by the previous governess. I confess that I welcomed the challenge. I remembered my own tantrums as a small girl. That wonderful exhilaration of stepping into a world free of all restraint. Where all inhibition had been cast aside, and where, in my anarchic rage, I had freed myself from all external control and governance. But my governess knew that the world into which I had passed was a Satanic realm, lacking law and structure. And without those nothing grows or flourishes. What a tantrumming child needs is not sympathy and indulgence but the immediate imposition of an authority that forces recognition of that truth. And my governess provided that, mastering my flailing body and insensate rage by sheer physical dominance. She would grasp me by the scruff of my neck or by the hair and lift me to my feet. Then with her other hand she would smack my face, reprimanding me with a ‘ No! No! No! How dare you behave in such a way, Eugenia!’ Then, I would be stripped of all my clothes, turned over her knee and spanked with the back of her hairbrush until I was roaring and squirming, first in rage, but finally, broken and sobbing, a small child with all anger burnt away. I smiled, wondering how long it would be before the lesson in self-control taught by Miss Roberts, my governess, could be taught by me to a tantrumming, five year old, Dorothy.












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