You ask what seems like a very simple question. The simple answer is “Yes!” — but the worst was usually over quickly. The real answer, however, is more complicated. The physical effect was painful enough, but the stressful situation, the anticipation, and the feeling that events were completely out of your control often made it seem much worse than it probably was.
I once said that the pain from being hit with a cane was a bit like being struck by a cricket ball. Someone wiser than me asked whether I would be so flippant if I knew the bowler was intentionally aiming at me on every ball in an over! That, perhaps, is a better comparison. It was not simply the pain itself, but the waiting for it, the humiliation, and the knowledge that there was nothing you could do to avoid it once sentenced.
From the day I started junior school at seven years old, I always fantasised about getting the cane. In those days corporal punishment was part of school life, discussed endlessly among boys in playgrounds, corridors, and changing rooms. Stories circulated constantly — some true, many wildly exaggerated. Boys spoke in hushed tones about fearsome headmasters, savage punishments, and legendary canings handed out years before.
It was only in my second year that I finally received it. I am now 60 years old but can still remember returning to my seat afterwards and thinking, “How could anyone want this much pain?” It was only one stroke, but unfortunately not the last. Looking back honestly, I deserved every stroke I got — and probably a few more besides.
On the one occasion I was caned at school quite honestly it particularly hurt. When I was taken to the Deputy Headmaster I knew exactly what was likely to happen, as he was a frequent caner. But he was known to cane both on the hand and on the backside, and that was my real fear. Would I be able to hold my hand out and keep it there without snatching it away?
After a lecture, during which he said, “You know what’s coming to you, don’t you, laddy?” he announced, “I’ll give you two.”
As he got up he said, “Put your hands on the desk,” which I did. He moved behind me and turned up the back of my blazer. Then there was a whirr and a dull thud, followed almost immediately by another whirr and thud. Oddly enough, it was not as painful as some of the slipperings the PE teacher handed out over one thin layer of PE shorts. In fact, I remember feeling almost disappointed. I neither cried out nor shed tears, nor even winced very much. Afterwards it all seemed rather pointless.
Later, talking with others about it, one boy remarked, “Just be thankful you didn’t see the Head. He really knows how to cane. He had me in tears.” This was a lad from the school rugby second fifteen — a genuinely tough boy — and I remember shuddering at the thought.
Most teachers were not monsters, and most schools used corporal punishment moderately by the standards of the time. In many cases the cane was intended to be a swift, unpleasant reminder that certain behaviour — skipping games, smoking, fighting, swearing at staff, or repeated disobedience — was unacceptable. It was not generally meant to be a brutal flogging.
Nevertheless, boys built the cane up into something almost mythical. Horror stories circulated endlessly: tales of boys getting “six of the best” until they could not sit down for a week, or lurid rumours of punishments so severe they bordered on fantasy. Much of this was playground exaggeration, but it added enormously to the fear and mystique surrounding the cane.
For many boys, the reality was actually less dramatic than the anticipation. It stung more than it hurt.
“Hurt” is when you bang your knee or knock yourself against something solid. A caning was different. It produced a sharp, burning sting that spread rapidly across the skin. The harder the stroke, the more intense the sting became, and with multiple strokes the sensation built steadily. By the fourth, fifth, or sixth stroke the accumulated burning could become very difficult to endure.
“Six of the best” became almost legendary in British schools and was generally regarded as a sensible upper limit for most boys. In some public schools and older institutions, however, punishments could be more severe and six strokes was sometimes merely the starting point.
The ritual itself also mattered. The sound of the cane cutting through the air, the formal language used by masters, the command to bend over or hold out a hand, the silence of the study or corridor afterwards — all these details remained vivid in the memory long after the sting itself had faded. For many former pupils, it is these moments of anticipation and embarrassment they remember most clearly rather than the actual pain.
Never for one moment did I think the cane was ever really “moderate” while I was receiving it, though I do agree my teachers were not monsters. Years later, in my professional life, I met quite a few of them again and always enjoyed a laugh and a joke with them. At first I felt slightly embarrassed remembering old punishments, but eventually I thought, “What the hell?” They were always pleased to see how I had progressed in life.
