A man with a vision, a lantern and a piece of cake

One name above all others is associated with the philanthropic mission to rescue destitute street children from the slums of late 19th-century London and to give them shelter, Thomas John Barnardo. This highly readable book, aimed at the general reader, offers a fascinating account of this Victorian venture, as well as an overview of the great charity that Barnardo's has become in the different world of today.

Barnardo, who was born in Dublin in 1845, had a religious conversion in early manhood that proved to be a formative influence throughout his life; he left the established Church of Ireland and joined the Plymouth Brethren, who believed that the Second Coming of Christ would precede the millennium. Convinced that it was important to save human souls before it was too late, Barnardo moved to London, where he hoped to train as a doctor to fulfil his burning ambition of becoming a medical missionary in faraway China.

In the East End of London where he lived, however, he found so many children surviving in squalid conditions that he opened, in 1868, a Juvenile Mission for needy and vulnerable boys and girls. Although the children were offered free shelter, food, clothing and education, Barnardo's main motive, insists Winston Fletcher, was to prepare his charges for heaven. Although a philanthropist, Barnardo was "first and foremost" an evangelist.

Supported by a network of wealthy Nonconformists, Barnardo made forays into London's underworld, dressed in his shabbiest clothes, cake in his pockets, lantern in his hand, to bring destitute boys into his care. One wintry night, a red-headed lad called Carrots appeared at the home, begging for refuge, but had to be turned away because all the beds were taken. Two days later, the boy's frozen body was found in the barrel in which he had been sleeping. The news had a traumatic effect on Barnardo, who vowed that his future policy would be "no destitute boy ever refused admission" ("boy" was later changed to "child"). This bold open-door policy, which included children of any race or nationality, was to cause financial and organisational strains over the years to come. But it established a principle on which Barnardo's homes were run forever after.

Barnardo wanted to do more to help homeless girls and, ever practical, he married Syrie Elmslie, a woman from a relatively affluent background, to further that project. He appealed, successfully, for £13,500 to build a village of cottages in Barkingside, each of which would house 20 girls with a "mother" in charge. However, his stubborn refusal to appoint a treasurer or committee to administer his charity's now-substantial funds, as well as his overbearing manner, brought many criticisms. There were allegations of incompetent management, as well as claims of abuse of children in his homes. Eventually a reluctant Barnardo appointed a committee of trustees. Now a convert to the Church of England, he continued to expand his work so that by 1892 more than 4,000 children were in his care, many boarded out in private homes.

After Barnardo's death in 1905, the state gradually took over responsibility for the nation's children, and the name of the great charity bearing Barnardo's name adapted to changing times. Today, the emphasis is on working with families in an atmosphere of religious open-mindedness rather than evangelical Christianity, some 100,000 children being supported each year in a kaleidoscopic range of projects.

This well-illustrated, informative book is a fitting tribute to Barnardo and his work. It powerfully reveals how his vision is kept alive through the practical help and hope that is given to many blighted young lives today.

June Purvis is professor of women's and gender history, Portsmouth University.