The Ingram-Lewis Chronicles Pt. 06

It was the next day that Patrick received a note from the Headmaster, Mr. Godber, asking him to see him in his study immediately after lunch: "Ah, Ingram-Lewis, thank you for coming so promptly to see me, I have been looking over the punishment book and I see that Tomlinson major's name seems to make very regular appearances; much too regular in my view. I see that just yesterday, for instance you yourself gave the boy a thorough birching. Now what was that about? Something quite serious, I imagine to give the lad twelve of the birch so early in the term. What exactly was his sin?"

So Patrick was obliged to tell the whole story of Tomlinson's stupid truancy to Mr. Godber, who took a very grave view of the lad's misdemeanour: "Ingram-Lewis, I think that it is time that Tomlinson major was taken firmly in hand. I have here a letter from his father, Colonel Tomlinson, who says that his elder son is a walking disaster. It is as if he goes out of his way to get into trouble: a backside in search of a beating, so to speak. The colonel asks us to try to ensure that his son obeys rules and urges us to take the necessary remedial action whenever necessary to see that the lad treads the straight and narrow at all times. He is, himself, totally convinced of the beneficial effects of corporal punishment, which he regularly inflicts on delinquent recruits in his regiment and he suggests that we adopt the same unbending approach with his elder son."

Let me just read you a snippet of what he says: "And so, Headmaster, do not hesitate to thrash my elder son if you feel it necessary. He will always try, with his glib tongue, to talk his way out of any situation, but do not listen to him; if you deem it necessary, do not hesitate in the slightest to thrash his backside; I am a great believer in the beneficial effects of the cane and the birch and I think that my son Colin could probably benefit from their more regular application to his bare backside. And so, Headmaster, I have not the slightest hesitation in leaving my son's anatomy to your tender care."

Patrick had really no clear idea of what the Headmaster's intentions were, but these were made abundantly clear as Mr. Godber continued: "Ingram-Lewis, I think that the time has come for our friend Tomlinson to meet what might figuratively be described as his Waterloo. I view his latest infraction, truancy, as a very serious matter and I think that on this occasion some further attention needs to be given to the boy's lower anatomy, over and above the birching you gave him yesterday."

"In fact, Ingram-Lewis, I believe the boy merits the most severe punishment that the school rules allow: a maximum of twenty four strokes on any one occasion for any one offense. And so, I propose to have Tomlinson in here this evening after supper and to give him a further twelve strokes of the cane across his naked buttocks. In the old days, before your time, it was a procedure I often adopted; I would birch a boy and then apply the cane to what might be described as his pre-conditioned buttocks, to add a number of clear welts which the birch itself does not produce. And that, Ingram-Lewis, is what I propose for Tomlinson, to try to knock some sense into the lad."

Patrick had listened to the Headmaster without comment, but with a feeling of foreboding building up as the full horror of what was proposed became clear. At the end of the day, as we know, Patrick had quite a soft spot for Tomlinson whom he quite liked personally and he wondered what he could do to palliate the proposed additional punishment. Also, knowing how the Headmaster had stopped completely using the cane himself and had expected Patrick to administer punishments on his behalf, he was not looking forward to having to beat Tomlinson again for the same offence, whether the school rules allowed it or not:

So Patrick made a vain attempt to temper the Headmaster's obvious ardour: "If you will forgive me, Headmaster, I think that Tomlinson may have learned his lesson after what I gave him yesterday and I wonder if it is wise to call him back and give him yet another thrashing. He went to bed last night which a very, very painful bottom, I can assure you; but if you insist, then perhaps you might consider reducing the number of the strokes to six rather than giving him the full twelve."

"Oh, nonsense, Ingram-Lewis! The boy needs a short sharp shock to bring him into the real world; and that is exactly what he is going to get. A well beaten bottom never did a y lad any harm. Twelve strokes of the cane it will be and I shall have the pleasure of administering them myself. So, Ingram-Lewis, please inform Tomlinson that I want him here before me in my study in his gym strip at eight thirty this evening. This will really be a case of striking whilst the iron is hot. Oh and Ingram-Lewis; I want you in attendance whilst I carry out the punishment."

Patrick heaved an inward sigh of relief as he learned that the the Headmaster was intending to wield the cane himself: at least that was something. He earnestly hoped that when it came to the actual moment that the Headmaster would not suddenly ask Patrick to take over. But he now had to face the horrible task of telling Tomlinson of his fate. He caught Tomlinson immediately after classes that afternoon: "Tomlinson, the Headmaster has asked be to tell you that he wishes to see you at eight thirty this evening in his study." And then came the killer corollary: "And he wants you to wear your gym strip."

Poor Tomlinson blanched as Patrick delivered this news with everything which it implied. To be summoned by Headmaster was one thing, but to be summoned and told to wear one's gym strip mean one thing and one thing alone: a thrashing. "Ingram-Lewis sir, why does the Headmaster wish to see me and why do I have to wear my gym strip? I haven't done anything. Is he going to beat me? I don't think I could stand it; my bum is still very sore after what you did to me yesterday. I still can't sit down without it hurting me; it really does hurt me a lot Ingram-Lewis sir; and really I haven't done anything; truly I haven't."

"Tomlinson, I am sorry. I have had no hand in what the Headmaster intends to do to you, I have merely been ordered to give you the message and I suggest that you be there on time in order not to make matters worse. The Headmaster himself will make everything clear to you himself."

And so poor Tomlinson (and who could not help feeling sorry for the lad in view of what was about to be inflicted on him) passed an uncomfortable few hours doing his prep, trying to eat his supper and wondering what was in store for him at eight thirty. He arrived promptly at the Headmaster's study and was told to enter. Ingram-Lewis was already there. Any doubt as to what was about to happen disappeared as he saw the low chair used by the Headmaster for beating boys, with a wicked looking cane lying across its seat, already set in the centre of the room. He did not have long to wait to learn of precisely why he had been summoned and what was going to happen to him.

The Headmaster began: "Tomlinson major; you, boy, have been a thorn in the flesh of this school ever since your arrival here nearly two years go. You are never out of trouble. You have been thrashed more often than any other boy I can remember in my long career at this school: all to no avail. And now we have your latest escapade: playing truant for a full afternoon: totally outrageous and totally inexcusable! Now I understand that Ingram-Lewis, who himself happened to catch you sneaking back into the school, gave you a thorough birching to try to teach you a lesson. Well, Tomlinson, allow me to tell you that I do not think that twelve cuts of the birch is anyway near an adequate punishment for your flagrant disobedience."

"And so, Tomlinson, I now intend to throw the book at you. In case you do not understand what that means, let me tell you. It means that I shall punish you to the full extent that the school rules allow. You Tomlinson are to receive twelve cuts of that cane, which is lying there, across your naked buttocks. So step out of your gym shorts, boy, bend across the chair and I will begin. I have to tell you, Tomlinson, that the Head Boy did intercede on your behalf and asked me to be lenient with you, but I am afraid I refused; I think that for once you deserve a thorough beating to put you on the straight and narrow path if that is at all possible. Over the chair boy and let's get started."

Tomlinson, trembling with fear at what he had just heard and faced with the horror of taking twelve cuts of the cane across his still ragingly painful arse, as ever, made a vain effort to salvage something from the occasion. "Please sir, I don't think my father would approve of what you intend to do to me. I have already been severely punished by Ingram-Lewis and now you want to punish me again for the same offence. I am sure he would not approve, sir. It just isn't fair, sir."

"Tomlinson; let me disabuse you of the idea that your father would disapprove of what is now going to happen to you. Let me just read to you an extract from a letter he wrote to me about the problems of keeping you in order." Mr. Godber then read out to Tomlinson the extract from the letter he had received from Colonel Tomlinson. "As you can see, boy, your father knows exactly what we are up against with you and approves totally of your being thrashed whenever necessary. And, Tomlinson, let us be clear; you are not being punished twice for the same offence: indeed not! You are being given a complement of twelve cuts to bring your total punishment up to the maximum accepted level of the twenty-four strokes allowed by the school rules, which I personally think is totally justified in the present case. So, get across the chair boy and keep still whilst I deal with your backside."

Tomlinson could do nothing but obey the Headmaster. So overtly trembling, he took off his shorts and bent across the chair, allowing his bum to be inspected by Mr. Godber. The Headmaster looked carefully at the boy's inflamed and obviously still painful arse and said to Patrick: "Well Ingram-Lewis, you are to be congratulated on having done an excellent job with the birch on this boy's bottom. You have managed, as should always be the case, to see that his entire posterior, both his buns and flanks have been well and truly birched. It only remains for me to add the twelve additional cuts with the cane, which will leave this miscreant with a ragingly painful backside, which is exactly what he deserves. Hopefully he will decide once and for all to mend his wayward tendencies."

Patrick looked on with a mixed sense of pity, awe and admiration as Mr. Godber started to apply his cane to the unfortunate Tomlinson's arse. He was secretly relieved that the Headmaster had gone ahead and picked up the cane himself, for he had feared that at the last moment he would once again be called upon to take over and that was the last thing he wanted. Mr. Godber proved a master with the cane. In his earlier days at Rigby, Patrick had often felt the Headmaster's power with both the cane and the birch on his own backside, before he himself decided to reform. But on those numerous occasions he had not actually seen the Headmaster in action, as he had himself always been bent double, arse naked across a chair.

But now, for the first time watching the old man in action, he realised that practically forty years of experience did, after all count for something, for old Mr, Godber was a true master in the art of beating. He did not bother with any of the preliminary tapping, finding his bearings as it were, but simply brought down the rod with incredible precision and force, landing stroke after painful stroke on Tomlinson's arse. The Headmaster started at the top of the buttocks and by the time he had applied ten cuts, he was already in that painfully sensitive sit-spot area, where the buttock join the legs. And all the strokes were parallel to each other. By the third stroke, Tomlinson had been reduced to a howling tearful mess, begging the Headmaster to stop; but it was to no avail as Mr. Godber pressed on. Finally after the tenth stroke, Mr. Godber reviewed his handiwork and said: "Tomlinson, I always believe in giving a boy something he can be proud to show to his classmates, so I will conclude your punishment with two final diagonal cross cuts to pull the whole picture together. Your backside, my boy, will look like an impressionist painting."

It was all finally over and Tomlinson and Patrick left the Headmaster's study together, Tomlinson was in such extreme pain that he found it hard to walk without limping. Patrick felt very sorry for the boy and said to him: "Come back to my study Tomlinson and I will apply a little ointment which will sooth your arse a bit. You're going to be sore for several days, you know, but it will pass and it's all over now and you will get over it. I know just how painful it must be and I hope that you have finally learned your lesson and will improve your ways. You know Tomlinson; I was rather like you in my early years at Rigby. Old Godber thrashed me on numerous occasions so I know exactly how you feel. But let me tell you it all ended for me when he gave me a monumental birching after which I decided I had had enough. I could barely sit down for nearly a week and that was what settled matters. And since that I have never been caned again."

In his study, Tomlinson gratefully allowed Ingram-Lewis to rub, very gently as it was all so painful, some ointment into his flaming backside. When he finally left to show his "wounds" to his classmates, he turned to Patrick and said: "You know, Ingram-Lewis, you're a real sport." And that was, in fact the last time that Patrick ever spoke to the boy.

The truly painful experience which Tomlinson had undergone as a result of his truancy finally made the boy realise that he could no longer continue flouting the school rules in the way he had hitherto done. His birching and subsequent caning by Mr. Godber together brought Tomlinson to a sort of epiphany: a moment when he saw the light and decided to reform. It was much the same experience as that of Ingram-Lewis years earlier, when he, after a sound thrashing from Mr. Godber, had changed track and had become a model pupil and was now Head Boy of the school. So this gruesomely painful experience was the turning point in Tomlinson's life at Rigby, and it was, in fact the last time that he was beaten whilst at the school.

Tomlinson major became more serious and by the time he was in the lower sixth, both the then Headmaster on the advice of his colleagues, realised his worth and he was appointed a junior prefect. Then in his final year he was appointed Head Boy by the Headmaster himself. And in that function he dished out beatings left, right and centre in the same way as his predecessors had always done. He truly believed in Rigby Rigour as it was called and stoutly maintained for the rest of his life that the beatings he had taken at school had never done him any harm. And as Head Boy he exercised that philosophy on the naked arses of countless boys.

Tomlinson went on to read Greats at New College, Oxford, where he took a first class honours degree before joining the Foreign and Commonwealth Office. There he spent his entire working life, rose to considerable heights and was knighted by King George VI. He died in his 90's in 1983. Such was the life of a man, who as a boy had been perpetually in trouble during his first two years at Rigby School.

CHAPTER 8

The rest of the term passed fairly uneventfully until the very last week. The Court of Prefects met each Friday evening and beat any boys who had been handed a punishment note by the masters. And from time to time prefects individually beat one boy or other boys for this or that reason; often for some trivial or imagined infraction. Any reason however tenuous was enough to justify making a lad drop his pants and present his bare arse to the cane. No one resented it or thought badly of the prefects. It was all part and parcel of the life at Rigby and the lads who had been beaten looked forward to the day when they too might be prefects and could take their revenge on their younger schoolmates.

But to come back to the last week of term. It was Saturday evening around eight; supper had been served and eaten and the boys were free until bedtime which, for the upper sixth was ten o'clock. Quite by chance, Mr. Godber, the Headmaster happened to go into town; a highly unusual occurrence for him at that hour, but he was on his way to see a retired member of the domestic staff, his old butler, who stilled lived locally and who had been unwell of late. As he approached the King's Head public house, he saw the tail coat of a boy, who was clearly a Rigbyan, disappearing into the door of the place.

Now Mr. Godber had never in his life stepped inside the King's Head but he felt he had to investigate and see what the boy was up to. To his utter surprise when he entered he found five boys at the bar, already smoking and drinking and the sixth boy, who had evidently only just arrived but he already had a cigarette in his lips and was ordering a drink from the landlord. Looking at the boys, it was evident that they had already been there for quite some time, for they were clearly three sheets to the wind.

Engrossed as they were in their own affairs, the boys did not immediately notice the arrival of their Headmaster but suddenly one of them turned and found an irate Mr. Godber glaring at them. They group fell silent as the Headmaster stared at them; no one spoke a word. The other customers standing at the bar suddenly realised that something was horribly wrong. The silence became deafening and it would be safe to say, in crude modern day language, that the six lads were suddenly shitting bricks.

Mr. Godber said: "I want the six of you out of here and back at school immediately. it is now almost half past eight and I want the lot of you, in your gym strips, in my study at nine o'clock. Now get out of here, the lot of you." Turning to the landlord, he said: "Landlord, if you will forgive me saying so, I am surprised and shocked that you should be serving boys from the school in a public bar with alcoholic drinks. All boys from Rigby School no matter what their age, are strictly forbidden to consume alcohol or to smoke cigarettes, either on or off the school premises."

The landlord looked at Mr. Godber, whom he did not know, and said: "Sir, the young men in Rigby School clothing I have just served were all of legal age to consume alcohol. When I raised an eyebrow seeing that the lads were from the school, they all claimed to be over the age of eighteen and so why should I refuse to serve them? After all, sir, I'm running a business here selling beer to earn my living. And if I may say so sir, it is not for me to enforce the school rules, with which I'm not familiar. So you see sir, I don't think that I have done anything wrong. If he lads have broken the rules, then it is for you, sir, to take them to task, and from what I have just heard you say to them, I reckon that they are going to rue the day they came in here and pay a very painful price for their disobedience. However, sir, now that I know the school rules if any other boys from the school ever come in here, I will send them packing immediately, sir. What more can I say fairer than that, sir?"

Mr. Godber accepted the landlord's apologies, realising that he had a point. His visit to his hold butler was forgotten as he himself hastened to return to the school and to find Patrick Ingram-Lewis, his Head Boy. He needed Patrick's assistance urgently, as he intended to give the six miscreants the soundest thrashing they had ever had in their entire school career. As he entered the school he saw Tomlinson major in the corridor: "Tomlinson," he said, "Kindly go and find the Head Boy and ask him to come to my study immediately."