John Pounds,
THE PHILANTHROPIC SHOEMAKER.
"His virtues walked their narrow round,
Nor made a pause, nor left a void;
And sure the Eternal Master found
His single talent well employed."
--_Dr. Samuel Johnson._
"A young lady once said to him, 'O Mr. Pounds, I wish you were rich, you
would do so much good!' The old man paused a few seconds and then
replied, 'Well, I don't know; if I had been rich I might, perhaps, have
been much the same as other rich people. This I know, there is not now a
happier man in England than John Pounds; and I think 'tis best as it
is.'"--_Memoir of John Pounds_, p. 12.
"As unknown, and yet well known; ... as poor, yet making many
rich."--_The Apostle Paul._ 2 Cor. vi. 9, 10.
"Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me."--_Our Lord Jesus
Christ._ Matt. xxv. 40.
JOHN POUNDS.
In 1837 there lived at Landport and Portsmouth two notable shoemakers.
The Landport man combined with his daily task as a shoemaker the
delightful occupation of sketching and painting, and obtained a local
fame as an artist. The Portsmouth man found in the work of teaching poor
ragged children to read and write and cipher his greatest relaxation
from the drudgery of daily toil and his purest enjoyment, and has become
known, we may safely affirm, throughout the Christian world, as a
philanthropist, and one of the first men in this country who conceived
and carried out the idea of Ragged Schools. The shoemaker-artist had a
great admiration for the shoemaker-philanthropist and painted a picture
representing him in his humble workroom, engaged in his double
occupation as shoemaker and schoolmaster, with a last between his knees
and a number of children standing before him receiving instruction. The
artist's name was Sheaf, and his interesting picture represented John
Pounds occupied in his benevolent work as a gratuitous teacher of the
neglected children of his native town. Sheaf sold his picture to Edward
Carter, Esq., of Portsmouth, a warm admirer of John Pounds, and one of
his best friends and helpers in his work. This picture was afterward
engraved by Mr. Charpentier of Portsmouth, and it is to a copy of the
engraving the renowned Dr. Guthrie of Edinburgh refers in the following
story:
"It is rather curious, at least it is interesting to me, that it was by
a picture that I was first led to take an interest in Ragged Schools--a
picture in an old, obscure, decayed burgh, that stands on the shore of
the Firth of Forth. I had gone thither with a companion on a pilgrimage;
not that there was any beauty about the place, for it had no beauty. It
has little trade. Its deserted harbor, silent streets, and old houses,
some of them nodding to their fall, give indications of decay. But one
circumstance has redeemed it from obscurity, and will preserve its name
to the latest ages. It was the birthplace of Thomas Chalmers. I went to
see this place. It is many years ago, and going into an inn for
refreshments, I found the room covered with pictures of shepherdesses
with their crooks, and tars in holiday attire, not very interesting. But
above the chimney-piece there stood a large print, more respectable than
its neighbors, which a skipper, the captain of one of the few ships that
trade between that town and England, had probably brought there. It
represented a cobbler's room. The cobbler was there himself, spectacles
on nose, an old shoe between his knees, the massive forehead and firm
mouth expressing great determination of character, and below his bushy
eyebrows benevolence gleamed out on a number of poor ragged boys and
girls who stood at their lessons around the busy cobbler. My curiosity
was excited, and on the inscription I read how this man, John Pounds, a
cobbler in Portsmouth, taking pity on the poor ragged children, left by
ministers and magistrates, and ladies and gentlemen, to run in the
streets, had, like a good shepherd, gathered in the wretched outcasts;
how he had brought them to God and the world; and how, while earning his
bread by the sweat of his brow, he had rescued from misery, and saved to
society, not less than five hundred of these children."[51]
[51] "Anecdotes and Stories," by Rev. Thomas Guthrie,
D.D. London: Houlston & Wright, pp. 156, 157.
The biography of some of the best and most useful men the world has
known may be written almost in a sentence. In the Old Testament there is
a biography of this kind in the words, "And Enoch walked with God: and
he was not; for God took him."[52] In the New Testament there is another
of a similar character in the brief sentence, "There was a certain man
in Cæsarea called Cornelius, a centurion of the band called the Italian
_band_, a devout man, and one that feared God with all his house, who
gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway."[53] The
life-story of John Pounds is told in the last sentence of Dr. Guthrie's
narrative; yet a few farther details of the life and work of this
noble-hearted man will be read with interest by all who venerate true
worth and take pleasure in contemplating acts of Christ-like charity and
mercy.
[52] Gen. 5: 24.
[53] Acts, 10: 1, 2.
John Pounds was born at Portsmouth on the 17th of June, 1766. He was
only twelve years old when his father, a sawyer employed in the
government dockyard, had him bound apprentice as a shipwright in the
same yard. He was then a strong active boy, and worked with his father
in the yard until an accident maimed him for life, and made him
incapable of working as a shipwright. He fell into a dry-dock and broke
one of his thigh-bones, at the same time dislocating the joint. Whether
the fracture was neglected or not we do not know; but, from some cause
or other, poor Pounds went lame ever after. From the art of making ships
he was now fain to turn to that of making shoes, and finding an old man
in High Street, Portsmouth, who was willing to give the needful
instruction, John Pounds, at the age of fifteen, became a _shoemaker_.
Indeed, he would scarcely have claimed that title of dignity for
himself; for his chief thoughts were given to other affairs, so that he
was never an adept at his craft, and would in all probability have
preferred to be set down as "only a cobbler." It was not until 1804,
when Pounds was thirty-eight years of age, that "he ventured to become a
tenant on his own account of the small, weather-boarded tenement in St.
Mary's Street." It was in this humble abode that John Pounds lived and
worked and carried on his benevolent labors for thirty-five years. The
room appears to have been about the size and shape of an open
third-class railway carriage, and the entire tenement had more the
appearance of a shanty or hut than an ordinary dwelling-house. Yet it
was amply sufficient for the poor cobbler's purposes, and served as the
field of operations in all his benevolent enterprises.
Pounds lived alone in his snug little home; and as his earnings, though
small, were more than enough to meet the requirements of a bachelor, he
felt it right to do something to assist his poor relatives. He had a
brother--a seafaring man--whose family was large and stood in need of
assistance. John accordingly proposed to take one of his brother's
children and clothe, board, and educate him as if he had been his own.
With characteristic generosity of spirit, he selected a poor little
fellow who was a cripple. The child's feet turned inward, and, as he
walked, he had to lift them one over another. The tender-hearted cobbler
could not endure to see the deformity, and soon devised the means of
remedy. A neighbor's child who suffered in the same way had been
provided by a surgeon with a set of irons which straightened his feet
and enabled him to walk properly. Unable to purchase irons for his own
little charge, Pounds set to work to construct something in lieu of them
to answer the same purpose. His apparatus, made out of old shoe soles,
answered admirably, and he soon had the gratification of seeing the
little fellow entirely cured of his defect. This boy grew up under his
uncle's care, was put apprentice to a fashionable shoemaker, and lived
with Pounds till the time of his death.
When his nephew was old enough to begin to learn to read, John Pounds
resolved to do the work of a schoolmaster himself; and, thinking that
his little pupil would get on better if he had a companion, he began to
look round for some one to share the benefit of his instructions. He
selected a poor little urchin, "the son of a poor woman who went about
selling puddings, her homeless children, unable to accompany her, being
left in the open street amid frost and snow, with no other shelter than
the overhanging shade of a bay-window."[54] Other pupils were added in
course of time, and the shoemaker soon began to take great delight in
the work of teaching. It was not very difficult in Portsmouth to find
plenty of children whose education and training were entirely neglected
by their parents, and who were suffered to run about the streets in the
most ragged and destitute condition. The sight of these children moved
him to pity; and, once embarked on the enterprise of reforming and
teaching them, Pounds could not rest content with having half a dozen or
a dozen of them under his care, but went on gathering them into his room
until he had, in the later years of his life, an average of forty poor
children under his charge at a time. He loved his work all the more
because it was entirely gratuitous, and because he knew that if these
poor children were not thus taught they would never be taught at all,
but grow up in ignorance, misery, and vice. No amount of pains,
self-sacrifice, and anxiety was too much for this true disciple of
Christ to pay for the satisfaction of doing such children good, and
enriching and ennobling all their future lives.
[54] "A Memoir of John Pounds." Foord, Stationer,
Landport; p. 9. The writer is indebted to this brief memoir for
most of the facts stated in this sketch. He is also indebted
for information to the courtesy of Rev. T. Timmins, Portsmouth,
pastor of the congregation of which John Pounds was a member.
The editor of the "Memoir of John Pounds" thus describes the cobbler in
the midst of his scholars: "His humble workshop was about six feet wide
and about eighteen feet in depth, in the midst of which he would sit on
his stool, with his last or lapstone on his knee, and other implements
by his side, going on with his work and attending at the same time to
the pursuits of the whole assemblage--some of whom were reading by his
side, writing from his dictation, of showing up their sums; others
seated around on forms or boxes on the floor, or on the steps of a small
staircase in the rear. Although the master seemed to know where to look
for each and to maintain a due command over all, yet so small was the
room, and so deficient in the usual accommodation of a school, that the
scene appeared to the observer from without to be a mere crowd of
children's heads and faces."[55]
[55] "Memoir of John Pounds," p. 10.
The smallness of his room made selection necessary when the number of
candidates for instruction became unusually large. In this case he
always chose the worst and most desperate cases, preferring to take in
hand "the little blackguards," as he termed them, and turn them into
decent members of society. At other times, "he has been seen to follow
such to the town-quay, and hold out in his hand to them the bribe of a
roasted potato to induce them to come to school."[56] On fine warm days
the school "ran over" into the street, the children who behaved best
being allowed to sit near the door, or on a bench outside.
[56] Ibid, p. 10.
His method of teaching was of the simplest and most graphic character,
and seemed, although John Pounds, of course, knew nothing of such
things, to combine the features of the Pestalozzian and Kindergarten
systems. He would point to the different parts of the body, get the
pupil to tell their names, and then to spell them. Taking a child's
hand, he would say, "What is this? Spell it." Then slapping it he would
say, "What did I do? Spell that."
With the older pupils he went as far as his knowledge would allow of,
teaching them to read by means of handbills, or making use of such old
school-books as he had been able to beg, or buy cheap. Slate and pencils
only were used for teaching writing, "yet a creditable degree of skill
was acquired, and in ciphering, the Rule of Three and Practice were
performed with accuracy."
Pounds made efforts to clothe and feed as well as educate his destitute
pupils, many of whom were in a deplorable condition of rags and dirt. He
was anxious to take them with him on Sundays to the meeting-house which
he attended, and would have them decently clad and properly washed. "In
one corner of his room was a bag full of all sorts of garments for girls
and boys, which he had begged and mended, to be worn by his scholars on
Sundays, and when they went with him to the house of God. The garments
took the place of worse ones; for John took pride in the decent, clean
appearance of his pupils. Imagine him on a Sunday morning, with his
children round him, and his big bag open, and his handing the garments
round, with the soul of kindness in his eyes and the joy of God in his
heart!"[57] He might often have been seen on Saturday nights going round
to the bakehouses to buy bread for his poor children to eat on Sundays,
gathering it into his huge leathern apron, and, when his money was all
spent, standing still with a troubled look, searching in all his pockets
for a few more coppers in order to secure yet one more loaf to add to
his store.
[57] Rev. T. Timmins, Portsmouth, in a letter to the
writer.
When he was in need of books for his pupils, he did not hesitate to go
to the houses of well-to-do citizens and explain his case, and ask them
for aid. For the most part, he met with much kindness and sympathy, for
many of the inhabitants of Portsmouth and the neighboring towns knew the
benevolent cobbler of St. Mary's Street. But now and then he met with
rebuffs from those who did not know him, or from churlish souls who
could not feel for the sufferings of the poor. If he alone had suffered
from these rebuffs, the brave and sensible old man would have borne them
calmly enough; but a word spoken against his helpless little scholars
was enough at any time to rouse his warmest feelings. Once he called on
a gentleman of considerable means to ask the favor of a few old disused
books for the use of the pupils in reading. "Let them _buy_ books!" was
the only response he got to his generous appeal. "Poor little beggars!"
he exclaimed; "they can scarcely get bread, let alone books," and turned
away with ill-concealed disgust from the _gentleman's_ presence.
Pounds taught his pupils many other things besides "the three R's." Many
of the boys received instruction in the useful arts of shoe-mending and
tailoring, so that when they grew up they found their little knowledge
of great practical utility. He even went so far as to teach the lads and
lasses how to cook their plain food, and make the best of everything. In
fact, nothing that children required to make them happy and comfortable,
and to fit them for the duties of after-years, did the good cobbler
overlook or neglect. He made their playthings--bats, balls, crossbows,
shuttlecocks, kites, what-not; went out with them on holiday and festive
gatherings; got them gifts of tea and cake, and had them assembled in a
neighboring schoolroom for public examination; saw that they were
included at the public dinners, such as the celebration of Her Majesty's
coronation in 1837; and from year to year had the satisfaction of seeing
them grow up and take honorable and useful positions in society. _This_,
in fact, was his reward--all he looked for, all he ever had, except the
approval of Him who said, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me."
It was no uncommon thing during the last years of John Pounds' life for
some fine, manly fellow, soldier or sailor on furlough, or workman
passing through the town, to turn in at the old room, where the good
cobbler was still going on with his good work, in order to shake hands
with him, and thank him, while the big tears stood in the eyes of both
master and pupil, as the latter spoke of his rescue from starvation,
poverty, or crime, and of the fair start in life which he had received
at the hands of the worthy cobbler. And to this day there are men and
women by the score, in respectable and comfortable positions, who can
tell the same tale. "During the seven years I have been minister here,"
writes the pastor of the chapel in the graveyard of which John Pounds
was buried, "I have seen paying a pilgrimage to his tomb a number of
those who were taught by him, and who, passing through the town, or
coming for a short time to Portsmouth (as they belonged to the army or
navy), thus showed their grateful feeling toward their venerated teacher
and friend. They have told me in touching language, and almost sobbing
the while, of the debt of gratitude they owed him."
The useful life of this philanthropist came to an end on New Year's Day,
1839. A few days previously he went to the house of his friend Edward
Carter, Esq., who then lived in High Street, Portsmouth, to acknowledge
certain acts of kindness done in behalf of his little scholars. While
there, he saw the painting referred to at the beginning of this sketch,
which that gentleman had purchased of Mr. Sheaf, the shoemaker-artist.
The simple-minded man, whose love for dumb animals and domestic pets was
one of the most amiable features in his character, seemed to be more
pleased by finding his favorite _cat_ included in the picture than by
any other part of the painting. He then showed Mr. Carter the writing
and ciphering lessons of one of the pupils, and asked for aid in
procuring copy-books. A day or two after this John Pounds again called
on his friend, and while conversing with him on matters connected with
the school, fell down as if fainting. Medical aid was called in, but
John Pounds was dead before the doctor arrived. The body was conveyed to
the little room in St. Mary's Street, where about thirty children were
waiting for their teacher to come and commence the day's work, and
"wondering what had become of him." Terror and grief seized upon the
minds of the children when they saw the lifeless body of their kind
teacher borne into the room and laid upon the bed. On the following day
a group of children might have been seen standing at the door weeping
because they could not be admitted. Day after day "the younger ones
came, looked about the room, and not finding their friend, went away
disconsolate."
Mr. Martell, the physician who had been called in when Pounds was dying,
asked the favor of being allowed to pay the expenses of the funeral.
John Pounds was buried in the graveyard of the chapel in High Street
where he had been a constant worshipper. A large number of people
gathered round the grave, among whom the most conspicuous and sincere
mourners were the children now bereaved of their teacher and best
earthly friend.
A tablet was placed on the wall of the High Street Chapel bearing the
following inscription:
ERECTED BY FRIENDS
AS A MEMORIAL OF THEIR ESTEEM AND RESPECT
FOR
JOHN POUNDS;
WHO, WHILE EARNING HIS LIVELIHOOD
BY MENDING SHOES, GRATUITOUSLY EDUCATED
AND, IN PART, CLOTHED AND FED,
SOME HUNDREDS OF POOR CHILDREN.
HE DIED SUDDENLY
ON THE FIRST OF JANUARY 1839,
AGED 72 YEARS.
"THOU SHALT BE BLESSED:--FOR THEY CANNOT
RECOMPENSE THEE."
Over the _grave_ a monument was erected, the cost of which was defrayed,
as the inscription states, "By means of penny subscriptions, not only
from the Christian Brotherhood with whom John Pounds habitually
worshipped in the adjoining chapel, but from persons of widely differing
religious opinions throughout Great Britain, and from the most distant
parts of the world." Another memento took the form of a library for the
use of the poor people of the neighborhood in which the philanthropic
shoemaker lived and labored. A Ragged School has also been built which
bears his name, and in which the good work he inaugurated in Plymouth is
now carried on. In 1879 the "John Pounds Coffee Tavern" was opened.
Happy are they who can say with Lord Shaftesbury, in the closing words
of his speech at the opening of this institution--
"I AM A DISCIPLE OF JOHN POUNDS."