The Spanking Writers

The edition of Time Magazine of 11 August, 1930 reported an incident of concern to all readers here:

When a governor visits a State institution for an official inspection he usually sees it at its best. Realizing this, canny Governor Charles W. Tobey of New Hampshire, when he decided last March to investigate conditions at the Manchester State Industrial School, asylum for 200 delinquent girls, picked a day when he knew that the superintendent and matron would be away.

And thus the Governor found out details of the whippings administered to the girls, aged up to 21, who were:

…laid on a bed, or made to lie across a large laundry basket in the attic of the girls’ building, and had physical punishment administered on their naked flesh by application of lashes…

“I have been criticized for having visited the School unexpectedly, without giving prior notice, and investigating as I did. As to this I believe that this is better than to go when plans have been made and the School is on dress parade.”

Quite right, Governor. We’re most grateful to you for your unorthodox approach, and for bringing the matter (admittedly somewhat belatedly) to our concern.

Abel and I were standing on a train platform in the middle of a rush hour. Opposite us there stood a smartly dressed, very pretty young lady, who was contentedly munching on something.

Abel turned to me:

“If I were her father, I’d cane her for chewing gum in public.”

“Do you know,” I said, “I think she’s just eating a chocolate bar.”

A short pause, as he contemplated this. “Oh well. I’d just cane her anyway.”

I happened to find myself sitting opposite the cutest group imaginable on a train one recent Saturday morning. Five twenty-something young ladies, off into London to buy outfits for a forthcoming wedding. Giggly, bright, attractive: I rather wanted to suggest that a few cane stripes might look nice under the new dresses they were planning to buy.

One of them worked for the probation service, and launched loudly into a story about one of their ‘clients’. The young woman had phoned in the previous day, and the conversation appears to have run along the following lines:

“I need to book an appointment with my probation officer.”

“But we can’t see you. There’s a warrant out for your arrest for skipping bail.”

“So what should I do?”

“Report to the nearest police station.”

“OK. I’ll do it on Monday.”

“No, you need to do it straight away.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got loads of plans for the weekend.” [Hangs up phone]

Now, the ensuing discussion on the train revealed general sympathy for said young offender. Why would she hand herself in on the Friday, if she could have a weekend’s fun first? It sounded as if she was in enough trouble as it was – and an extra couple of days’ freedom wasn’t going to add to her impending punishment.

That’s why, you see, she’d have been so scared to find herself in front of Magistrate Abel on the Monday morning: sending her off to the cells, but adding four strokes of the birch for each of the days she’d spent on the run.