Letter from Miss Strang to Livia Arbuthnot

By Governess

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.
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A letter from Miss Strang to Livia Arbuthnot on her first appointment as a governess

The Rectory                                                  Stuttercombe                                                       Northumberland



                             Ash Wednesday 1912

My Dearest Livia,

My congratulations on your first appointment as a governess.   The Wrightons sound an ideal family. From what you have said in your letter, Mrs Wrighton believes in the values of strict discipline and the rod of correction and that bodes well for the future. I am sure you will have no difficulty in exercising a firm rule over the two boys in your charge.   At seven and nine you need have no hesitation in using the cane and if necessary the birch to punish disobedience and confront that wilfulness that lives deep in the heart of every child.   However, before you do so, make sure you discuss your intentions with Mrs Wrighton. It is easy for a young governess to let her enthusiasm run away with her, and for her to act as though she had the final say over the children’s upbringing and discipline.   Of course, in one sense, within the nursery and schoolroom that is true.   But she must never forget that hers in a delegated authority and that the final arbiter in matters pertaining to the children’s discipline is their mother.   I am therefore going to offer you a few thoughts, drawing upon my own experience.

To ensure the foundation of a good relationship, it is important that from the outset there is agreement on issues of discipline and punishment. It is in this area above all that damaging and even fatal conflict can arise. And even where there is broad agreement between mother and governess, difficulties are not impossible. I am not sure to what extent you have discussed the practicalities of discipline with Mrs Wrighton.    I have often found that a mother may say that she believes in the benefit of spanking but then shies away from its actual use or expects a spanking to be little more than a few pats upon a clothed bottom.    And these are matters that ought to be discussed at the initial interview following the governess’s application for the post. Often, the mother may raise the issue herself:

I am looking for a governess who is willing to spank the children when needed and to exercise a firm rule over them.   Is that something you are prepared to do?

Or,

I expect the children to be set clear rules and for disobedience to be routinely punished.

In the former case, I would explore with the mother what she meant by “a firm rule” and of the severity of the spanking that was envisaged.   I would explain that my method was to employ a hairbrush from an early age and for this to be applied vigorously to the child’s bared buttocks. And unless the mother was prepared wholeheartedly to agree to this, I would decline the appointment.   And similarly in the latter case, I would need some assurance that I saw eye to eye with the mother on the nature of the “clear rules” she envisaged, and what she understood by “routinely punished”. I would explain that rules needed not only to be clear but comprehensively to govern the children’s behaviour; and I would emphasise the need for unquestioning and unswerving obedience to the authority set over them. And if punishment was not understood as corporal punishment applied with necessary vigour to cause real reforming pain, then, again, I would decline the position.

I trust that a discussion of this sort occurred between yourself and Mrs Wrighton; and that her belief in strict discipline and the rod of correction is realistic.   However, agreement on the need for firm and unremitting discipline and the use of the rod does not mean that that strains cannot arise. And the guiding principle must again be that the mother is the prime authority over the children and that the governess acts by her delegation. Some mothers are happy to leave all discipline to the governess and to trust her to exercise that delegation responsibly. Nevertheless, even where this is the case, I have always made it a practice to keep a mother informed of any discipline that has been administered during the previous twenty four hours. Most mothers expect the children to be brought to them late in the afternoon or before they are settled down for the night, and this provides an opportunity to acquaint the mother with the events of the day. Some mothers will merely note that a spanking has been given, but sometimes greater interest is shown.

One of my earliest appointments was to govern an eight year old boy, called John Conway.   At the end of the first week I had had occasion to administer corporal punishment to the boy twice on the same day, having already disciplined him earlier in the week. I remember the conversation with Mrs Conway as if it were yesterday.

Good afternoon, Mrs Conway. You should know that I have had to discipline John twice today. This morning he was soundly spanked, and during the course of the afternoon, I had recourse to the cane.

Well this is very disappointing, John. If I remember correctly, Miss Strang had reason to spank you only two days ago.

She turned to me.

And why was there a need for punishment, Miss Strang?

Inattention, Mrs Conway; and this afternoon a surly reluctance to get on with his work, and for that he received a dozen strokes of the cane across his bottom and thighs.

Well, I think that Miss Strang has treated you rather leniently, John.   Drop you trousers and lower your pants.

Reluctantly, he did so, embarrassed at having to expose himself to his mother’s gaze before me.

And this morning you spanked him with the hairbrush?

Yes, Mrs Conway. All spankings are given with the back of my hairbrush.

And how many strokes was that?

Six, Mrs Conway.

Mrs Conway shook her head.

I must say, Miss Strang you do err on the side of leniency.   The boy has already been spanked once this week and seems to have learned little from it. Stand in the corner, John, while I discuss with Miss Strang what needs to be done.

I watched as he shuffled over to where she was pointing.

In my judgement, the boy needs to receive a further six strokes of the hairbrush for his inattention, followed by another dozen strokes of the rattan cane for his surly behaviour. I regard inattention as a very serious fault, Miss Strang. How is a boy to learn anything unless he attends. And surliness is a direct challenge to your authority.

Part of me rankled at Mrs Conway’s criticism. However, I restrained myself not only out of prudence but also because I regard shame and lowering a boy’s self-esteem as the foundation on which obedience and responsible behaviour are built. And there are few thing a small boy finds more shaming then being punished in front of his mother.   At the back of my mind, too, was the reassuring thought that I could clearly expect to have Mrs Conway’s full backing for the severe floggings the boy would no doubt need in the future.

If that is your wish, Mrs Conway, then I am more than happy to comply. If you will excuse me I‘ll fetch the cane and hairbrush from the schoolroom.

I was determined to spare the boy nothing and to show Mrs Conway that my commitment to his discipline was more than equal to her own.   The drawing room had several leather armchairs. I called John over.

Step out of those trousers and pants, John. And hang them neatly over the arm of the chair.   And now off with your shirt. And place it with your other clothes.

He stood shivering in his short vest, bare from the belly button down.   I lifted him up and turned him over the back of the chair with his legs hanging down behind.   I looked at Mrs Conway.

Are you happy for me to continue, Mrs Conway?

Of course, Miss Strang. Give the boy the punishment he deserves.

I placed my left hand firmly in the small of the boy’s back and raised the brush.   I knew from experience, both as a child myself and from administering discipline as a governess, that to spank the fold where the buttocks meet the thighs is to inflict not only an immediate agony and torturing pain but ensures, for some days to come, that when the boy sits on a hard schoolroom bench he is reminded of his punishment and the reason for it.   I brought the smooth back of the hairbrush down with all the strength of my arm and with that twist of the wrist that adds so greatly to the smarting impact on a boy’s firm young bottom. His mother’s eyes were narrow and she gave an approving nod.

The boy howled and writhed but my hand pressed down held him firmly in position. I took my time allowing the boy to smart between each stroke.   When I had finished I looked at Mrs Conway whose lips were compressed into a tight smile of approval.

Stop that howling, John. A boy of your age should be ashamed to make such a fuss over a spanking.   I suggest you save your wailing for the caning that has still to be given.

She turned to me.

Are you content to cane him over the back of the chair or shall I call Anna and have him horsed?

I had only once before flogged a boy horsed in traditional schoolboy fashion over the back of a parlour maid (but I am sure you remember, Livia, how on several occasions you were horsed for a birching).   And the pleasure was increased by the knowledge that the parlour maid was experiencing the thrill, too, of hearing the whoosh of the cane and feeling the boy writhing against her as the rattan cuts and scored his quivering flesh.   So I was in doubt how to reply to Mrs Conway’s query.

I would prefer to have him horsed, Mrs Conway, if Anna is prepared to assist.

Anna will do as she’s told, Miss Strang.   I’ll ring for her now.

And she walked over to the bell cord and gave it a sharp tug.

Anna was about nineteen. A tall, attractive girl, slim but strong.

Anna I want you to horse John for a flogging. You know what I mean by horsing?

Yes Ma’am. Before I came to the Grange I saw the boys at the Rectory horsed and their sister, too.

Good. I suggest you stand facing the back of the armchair so when you lean forward you have some support.

She turned to her son.

And, John, stand facing Anna’s back.

Reluctantly he did so, and his mother hoisted him in position.

Put your arms over Anna’s shoulders.

And the girl grasped them just above the elbows. He hung there helpless and I noticed how his toes curled and uncurled as he nervously awaited the strokes of the cane.

And I suggest Miss Strang that as his bottom has already been soundly spanked, you apply the cane to the backs of his thighs.

I held the cane in both hands and flexed it, savouring its supple punishing power. And then I stepped over to the boy and tapped the cane against the back of his right thigh. He tensed and his breath was short and shallow.   Mrs Conway gave a little nod. I stepped back, raised the cane and swept it upward so that it bent backward at the top of its flight and then, taking a step forward I brought it swishing down, increasing further its momentum with a final twist of the wrist.   The boy shrieked and kicked his legs as the rattan bit into his soft thigh flesh but, despite his writhing, Anna maintained her grip.

No need to hurry, Miss Strang. Let the boy smart and anticipate the next stroke.

This first stroke across his thigh had left an imprint that was red and inflamed. After a good half minute I raised the cane and administered another stroke just below the previous one. And after a long pause, another and then another.   When I had administered the full quota of twelve strokes the boy was a sodden mass of writhing agony.   In the fold beneath his buttocks the cane had cut repeatedly and there was a band of red smarting flesh that would soon become a deep band of bruised purple making sitting on a hard school bench an unavoidable torment. And on the backs of his thighs the tramline markings left by the caning were already visible.

I remember how my indignation at Mrs Conway’s attitude and the implied criticism of my governance of the boy rankled with me.   I resented her standing over me and instructing me on how to administer the boy’s chastisement. But I knew that I had to accept her authority as the boy’s mother, and am pleased to say, resentful though I was, I achieved that.   And in similar circumstances, Livia, you must do the same.

And in those early days there was something I found even more difficult to accept.   A mother may not only direct a governess in the discipline of her children but may on occasions chose actively to assume the role of disciplinarian herself.    And that was an even greater affront to my authority, trespassing, I felt, on that special intimacy that a governess has with her charge. I well remember the first occasion that I had to deal with such a situation.   I had accepted an appointment with the family of a Harley Street doctor with the firm assurance that all the children were to be subject to corporal correction.   There were two boys of eight and ten and a girl of seven. I was told that both boys were to be caned at the slightest hint of disobedience while the girl was to be spanked with the back of a hairbrush.   At the start of my first day, Mrs van Dalen told me that I was to bring the children to her in the drawing room at four o’clock each afternoon with a note of those of their misdemeanours that I judged worthy of chastisement.

Any punishment will be withheld until then, and after we have discussed together what is required.

During the course of the day, the children set out to test my resolve and on several occasions I had cause to rebuke them and warn them that such behaviour would have unwelcome consequences.   Shortly before four o’clock I prepared a short list detailing their failings and then shepherded them into to the drawing room to meet with their mother

Come in, Miss Strang. Good afternoon children. Stand over there while I discuss your progress with Miss Strang.

She smiled and looked at me.

And was their impeccable behaviour today, Miss Strang? Or did they disgrace themselves?

I am afraid John and Edith were slow in obeying and showed a disappointing lack of enthusiasm for their work. Alexander’s behaviour was on the whole good, apart from talking in a period of silence. As you requested I have prepared a short list of their misdemeanours, which I am ready to discuss with you.

Thank you Miss Strang.

She took the proffered paper and slowly read it with a frown on her usually smooth brow. She looked up.

It says here John that you made little effort at your work and when chided by Miss Strang for your lack of commitment you were sullen and unresponsive.   And when asked to sharpen the pencils you were rude and slow to respond.   Why was that?

He hung his head, and was, I am sure, already regretting his poor behaviour.

I am sorry mother.

Not as sorry as you will be shortly, John.   And as for you, Edith, I am shocked that you chose to be rude, and lazy at your work.   Well, if that was your choice, my choice is clear. You both need to be whipped.

She turned to me.

Do you agree Miss Strang?

I do, Mrs van Dalen.   And I will fetch the cane and hairbrush from the schoolroom.

There’s no need for that, Miss Strang.   I keep a cane here in the drawing room. Indeed, in that tall wicker basket by the sideboard there are three canes to choose from, and as you can see on the sideboard there is a hairbrush ready to give Edith the spanking she deserves.

She turned to her daughter.

Isn’t there, Edith?

The girl’s voice was barely audible.

Yes, mother.

Yes, with a hard wooden back that smarts and stings and leaves red oval marks on a girl’s bare bottom. Isn’t that right?

Ye . . . yes . . . mother.

Meanwhile I had stepped across to the wicker basket and was examining the canes. One was pencil thin and about thirty inches in length. Another was of about the same thickness but longer and swishier. While the third was clearly intended for the most serious offences as it was about half an inch thick and a good three feet in length.

And which would you think would be a suitable cane to correct John, Miss Strang.

I drew out the shorter of the canes.

Perhaps this one, Mrs van Dalen.

Oh come, Miss Strang, that is a nursery cane. John has shown a complete disregard for your authority and a lamentable lack of application to his work.   He was clearly testing your resolve and needs a sharp lesson in the need to respect authority and to be more diligent in his work.

She shook her head.

And this is the cane for such a job.

She drew out the longest cane that was half an inch in diameter. It gave a deep whoosh as swished it through the air. She turned to John.

Well, John, you know what you have to do. I want you standing in just a vest. And fold your clothes neatly and place them over the chair.

While he was preparing himself, she lifted a long padded bench into the middle of the room and placed a thick solid cushion on it.   Then, opening a drawer she took out a buckled leather strap about an inch thick.   She turned to the other two children.

I’ll deal with you Edith in a moment and then you Alexander.   In the meantime you will watch John’s punishment and learn from it.

When John was naked but for his short cotton vest, she ordered him face down over the padded stool, with the cushion beneath his stomach, and then running the strap under the bench and back over his body, she fastened the buckle tightly in the small of his back. Initially, I had assumed that I would be whipping the boy, but it was now abundantly clear that the punishment was to be administered by his mother. I felt as those at the conclusion of the 23^rd Psalm who saw a feast laid in their sight but of which they were forbidden to partake.   And I felt misled and betrayed.

Although I had administered chastisement to a number of children during the previous two years, rarely had there been the opportunity to witness its being administered by another.   As a girl I had on several occasions watched my father birch my younger brother and also seen my younger sister, with her bottom bared, spanked across my mother’s knee. Even at that early age, I felt a breathless excitement at the exposure of their buttocks and at their desperate writhing as they were disciplined.   My brother was a wilful boy and from the age of six or seven was regularly birched. I cannot tell you the almost feverish pleasure I took in seeing him horsed and flogged until the blood ran; and as soon as it was over, I was eagerly looked forward to the next occasion.   My sister’s spankings were less dramatic and although no blood was drawn my mother applied the hairbrush with skill and never ceased until Frances was writhing with smart and with a bottom from which the oval imprints of the hairbrush would not fade for several days.

And seeing Mrs van Dalen caning her son brought back these early memories, and I began to experience once more the visceral pleasure of seeing a boy well flogged. Although helplessly secured to the bench the boy was still able to express his bodily displeasure by kicking his legs and by roars of agony. Slowly and with obvious relish, Mrs van Dalen caned the boy. The first stroke was a foretaste of what was to come.   She raised the long flexible length of half inch rattan with a vigorous upward swish, so that it bent backward at the top of its flight and then sprung forward like a cat pouncing on its prey.   Mrs van Dalen was in no hurry to administer the next stroke.    She watched as the red weal deepened in colour, and listened appreciatively to the boy’s sobbing. I looked at the two children watching their brother’s punishment.   They were pale and their eyes were dark and fearful.   Each knew that soon it would be their turn to suffer, and by the severity of John’s punishment they were right to be fearful.

I think you know, John, that I will not tolerate disrespect and rudeness nor will I countenance laziness. When I’ve finished with you, you’ll be begging to be allowed to stand at the table to eat.

And slowly, she proceeded to apply the cane until his soft, firm young buttocks were a corrugation of dark thick swelling weals.   He howled like a hare being torn apart at a coursing, and when she stood him back to the wall, so all could see his tears and distress, he was a pitiful sight to behold.

She stepped over and replaced the cane in the tall wicker basket.   Picking up the note I had written she beckoned to Alexander.

Miss Strang has written that you were talkative in a period of silent working, Alexander, but I am pleased to say she considers your conduct to be otherwise good.

She turned to me.

Do you think the boy should be caned for his chattering and inattention, Miss Strang?

I paused. If it had truly been my decision I would have probably given the boy ten strokes with the back of my hairbrush; but Mrs van Dalen had already told me that both boys were subject to the cane and by the way she had punished his older brother, there was no doubting her commitment to the boys’ discipline.

I do, Mrs van Dalen. Perhaps a dozen strokes with the nursery cane in view of the less serious nature of the offence and in view of his younger age.

She pursed her lips and frowned.

I have to disagree with you, Miss Strang. That the boy is two years younger than his brother is of no consequence. He is strong and fit and needs no concessions in the matter of punishment.

She beckoned to him.

Remove all your clothes except for your vest. And place them neatly over the arm of the chair.

The vest was short and barely covered half his buttocks.   She pulled it up.

Hold the vest up, Alexander, and turn around.

I could see he was a sensitive boy and deeply shamed by the exposure.

I think you will agree, Miss Strang, that the boy has a full and firm bottom. I see no reason for treating him any differently from his brother. That you should think otherwise is a mark of your inexperience.

I felt a deep, resentful anger rising up at her words, and I had to make a great effort to contain it.

However, I agree that his offence is less serious. In view of that I will use the nursery cane, but there’ll certainly be no further concession on account of his age.

She turned to the boy.

You will receive two dozen strokes, Alexander. Fetch the cane, please.

He handed it to her.

And now over the bench.

She secured him as she had his brother and twenty-four slow vigorous strokes were administered to his bottom and the backs of his thighs.   He screamed, high-pitched desperate screams of agony as each smack of the cane cut into his soft little bottom.   An eight year old boy is still very much a child and tears come easily and without shame.   However, although tears might not be shameful in themselves, the subjugation of his will through naked exposure and torment certainly was.   And when his mother placed him in the corner back to the wall, his hot tear-stained face was evidence enough of his shame and humiliation.

And now we have Edith to deal with, Miss Strang.

She beckoned to the child

Come here Edith. From what Miss Strang tells me you have been slow in obeying and have not taken your work seriously. Is that right?

The girl bit her lip.

Yes, Mother.

She had clearly learnt the wisdom of not arguing with her mother.

In that case it should come as no surprise that you need to be spanked.

She was wearing a dress and a cardigan top.   Both came off and she stood before us in her vest and knickers. She was wearing small black shoes and covering her legs were black cotton stockings held up by garters around the tops of her thighs.

Remove your shoes, Edith, and your knickers. You may leave on your vest and stockings.

Much as I had found the boys’ canings arousing, I was deeply stirred by the preparation of this small girl for correction, and was already anticipating with some pleasure seeing her soundly spanked over her mother’s knee. I thought how her small firm bottom flaring out above her stockings and the plump tops of her thighs were simply asking to be spanked.

Her mother pulled an upright chair into the middle of the room and sitting on it gestured to her daughter to stand on her right side.    Edith was an exceptionally pretty child with light brown hair, and an even face with a slightly retroussé nose.   There was a boyish impudence about her despite her prettiness, and I suspected she was no stranger to the hairbrush. Her mother lifted her across her knee and placed her left hand in the small of her back. I watched as the cold smooth back of the brush was rested on her bottom. The girl shivered and clenched her buttocks defensively.

No clenching, Edith.   Any clenching and there‘ll be two extra strokes. You know the rules.

She gave a sharp smack of the brush across the delicious plumpness of the girl’s bottom. The girl gave a gasp.

That’s nothing, Edith. You’ll be spanked until your bottom is so red and sore that every time you sit down you’ll be reminded of what happens to rude, disobedient girls like you.

She paused, and gave her bottom another sharp smack .

Are you sorry for being such a thoughtless and naughty child?

Please, mother . . . please . . .

I asked, Edith, whether you were sorry for being thoughtless and disobedient.

Yes, mother . . . yes, I am, truly I am.

So you agree you deserve to be punished?

Yes, mother.

Well, I am pleased about that.

She raised the hairbrush and brought it down with that satisfying smack that a hard flat object makes on a child’s soft resilient bottom.   There was a moment before the pain registered and the girl gave an ear-splitting scream. Her mother waited. After a while the screaming was replaced by a gasping sobbing sound.   A further stroke was given to exactly the same spot with the same result, desperate screaming fading into choking sobs.   Mrs van Dalen was a skilful disciplinarian. The next two strokes were placed in similar fashion on the girl’s other firm little buttock.   And then when her daughter had calmed a little, she rolled down her stockings and slowly spanked her soft rounded thighs, working her way down first the back of the left thigh and then the right.   Six strokes were given to each, raising a deep crimson soreness.   The girl was frantic now, screaming and desperately pleading.

Aaaagh, no, please no, no no . . . aaaaagh.

But still the torment continued.   Further strokes were given to the buttocks and again the same method was followed, first two strokes on one and then two strokes on the other repeated again and again until both buttocks were a deep raw crimson.

By this time, Livia, I could feel the wetness between my legs and that “little snake” wriggling in his hole. And now her mother turned her attention to that soft sensitive fold of flesh immediately beneath the buttocks.   She eased the girl back so that her legs were hanging over her right leg ensuring that the skin at the top of the thighs tightened.   And a good dozen strokes were administered that would make sitting an uncomfortable experience for several days.

When she was released and told to stand with her brothers against the wall she clutched her bottom, sobbing and heaving and her eyes so full of tears that she could barely see the way. I looked at the two boys who had witnessed their sister’s punishment and both were flushed with a pre-pubescent arousal.

Well, Miss Strang if you agree I think the children should be sent to an early bed without supper.

And tomorrow children we’ll be looking for full attention in the schoolroom and unswerving obedience to Miss Strang’s word.   And if there is any falling short, you are in no doubt of the consequences.   Indeed, I hate to think what another whipping on those already sore bottoms would mean.   Now off you go and undress, and I want you down here in ten minutes in your night clothes for prayers.

When the children came down, the two boys were quiet and chastened.   However, the girl despite one of the soundest spankings I can imagine was sulky and uncommunicative. And when she was slow in putting her hands together for prayers, her mother was far from slow in responding.

You seem to have learned nothing from your earlier correction, Edith.   Go upstairs and fetch a pair of your knickers. And John go and ask Mrs McTaggart for a large bowl of hot water with three cups of salt dissolved in it, together with a cloth.   And bring a towel too.

If up to now the sight of the children’s discipline had aroused me, what followed was to stir that “little snake” into a complete frenzy of almost insupportable flickering excitement.   The bowl of brine was placed on a low table and the knickers beside it.

Now fetch the hairbrush.

No mother, please no.

I am afraid there is no alternative, Edith. A resentful sulky girl who has just been spanked and learned nothing from it, clearly needs further punishment. Do as I say. Fetch the hairbrush.

Edith, with her still flushed face, looked enchantingly pretty in her long cotton nightdress and as she walked to the sideboard I could see through the thin material not only the enticing shape of her buttocks but the smarting redness of the flesh beneath.   Mrs van Dalen sat on the upright chair with the towel over her lap. Rucking up the girl’s nightdress, she hauled her over her lap.

I promised you a sore bottom by the time I’d finished with you. Well, we both know a way to make it even sorer don’t we?

No, please mother, no . . .

Mrs van Dalen lifted the hairbrush and brought it down with a wristy smack across the crown of her left buttock and then the right. And then the left again, continuing until a dozen smacks had been placed on each. Then, she paused. And reaching out dipped the bristles of the brush into the bowl of briny water. And raising it, proceeded to spank the girl with the bristle side of the brush bringing it down with all her strength and driving it into the girl’s soft inflamed bottom flesh.    After half a dozen strokes the sharp bristles had begun to puncture the skin of Edith’s bottom and after twelve strokes the tiny punctures were oozing blood and she was sobbing and gasping. After twenty four strokes her entire bottom was covered in blood.   Then a dozen strokes were administered to the back of her left thigh and then a dozen to the right thigh, leaving them, too, bloody and smarting.   Reaching for the cloth she immersed it in the salty water and then spread it over Edith quivering bottom, wiping away the blood. The girl screamed as the brine stung and smarted. Then, her thighs were wiped. Mrs van Dalen looked at me.

The wounding is superficial, Miss Strang, and the bleeding stops almost immediately. But the pricking of the bristles will have left tiny red points of soreness all over her bottom and thighs. For the next week there will be no moment in which she is not aware of her bottom and especially when she sits on her bench in the schoolroom.

She paused.

Go and stand in the corner facing the wall, Edith, until I give you permission to go up to bed.   And stop snivelling and sniffing. Anyone would think you had been severely flogged instead of soundly spanked.

The boys who had watched Edith’s punishment were immediately sent up to bed after their mother had prayed with each of them. Then, Mrs van Dalen walked over to Edith and gave her bottom and thighs another wipe with the saline cloth and dried her with the towel.

Put these knickers on, Edith, and we’ll say prayers and then it’s bed.   And I’m looking for better behaviour from you from now on.   And if there is no improvement, you know what to expect.

As Edith left the room, I knew I had a decision to make.   I had found watching Mrs van Dalen whipping her children an arousing experience. She was truly a formidable disciplinarian.   And I wondered what other measures she might chose to employ. But her taking responsibility for the children’s punishment entirely into her own hands undermined my authority and unless a compromise could be found I knew I would have to resign.   I turned to her.

Mrs van Dalen I greatly admire your commitment to your children’s discipline and the thorough way in which you administer it.   However, as their governess, I do feel that it is I who should be taking the chief role in matters of discipline, subject of course to your general guidance. Do you not agree?

She frowned.

I am not sure I do, Miss Strang.   Disciplining children is an important aspects of mothering.   It adds realism to a relationship that can become sentimental and overprotective. But on the other hand I can understand your position. While I should certainly not wish to relinquish a disciplinary role altogether, perhaps there is scope for some compromise.   What do you think?

Thank you for being so understanding, Mrs van Dalen.   May I suggest that I have a free hand in disciplining and punishing the children in the schoolroom and when in my charge. But where there is a case of serious wrongdoing or where there is a repetition of an offence after a recent punishment, then I would refer them to you.   Would that be acceptable?

She thought about it for a moment.

Yes, Miss Strang, I think it would.   However, may I insist that where there is lying or dishonesty of any sort or tale-telling, that the matter should be referred to me straightaway and I will deal with it.

She smiled.

And I would be disappointed if at least one child a week were not referred to me for punishment.

She gave another smile.

I am sure you will not find that too difficult.

Yes, Mrs van Dalen, I don’t think that should pose any great problem.   All in all, I am very happy with what you propose. Thank you.

And, I stayed with the van Dalens for the next three years.

What I want you to take away from this perhaps overlong account are three things:

First, a governess must respect the mother of the children and accept that she is the prime authority over them.   A governess’s authority is a delegated authority and she should not act in a way that is contrary to the mother’s wishes.

Secondly, a governess must insure that the delegation of authority from the mother is adequate for her to do her job efficiently and competently. If she feels this is not the case, then she needs to discuss that with the mother and try and reach an accommodation.   This should be done respectfully.   If the mother does not wish to reach an accommodation that should be accepted with a good grace. The right course then is to resign.

Thirdly, recognise that in appointing a governess the mother is losing some control over her children and sharing her authority with another.   A mother may find that difficult. A governess needs to recognise that and to show understanding.

Well, I wish you well, dear Livia, in your new appointment.

With my love and best wishes,

Eugenia Strang

PS.   I strongly recommend that you keep a discipline diary and record fully all the punishments you administer and those that are administered by others. I have done this over the years and found it to be a great blessing.

(The End)