The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1848-02-01 00:00:00

Tug LIMPOOL STANDARD.

THE LOST BROTHER FOUND ; AN AUTHENTIC
NARRATIVE OF LOCAL INTEREST.

Towards the close of the year 1844, two respectable
young men, James Cunningham and John Coleman, to-
gether left their native town, Market Harborough, in
Leicestershire—after bidding an affecting farewell to their
relations and friends, they pursued their journey on foot
towards Liverpool, whence they purposed to emigrate to
the United States of America. They were not much en-
cumbered with luggage, each having only a bundle con-
taining a few articles of wearing apparel, scarcely suffici-
ent for personal comfort on the contemplated voyage.
They were both journeymen bakers and confectioners by
trade, and though not, so far as was then known to either,
at all related by family, they had so long been bosom com-
panions, of such congenial feelings and dispositions, that
they had formed for each other an abiding, and, it may be
said, a truly fraternal affection. Though rich in friend-
ship, they were, in the common acceptation of the term,
poor in purse, their whole worldly wealth, the hard savings
of many a month's labour, being a sum barely sufficient
to meet their wants on the way side as they journeyed
northward to the port of embarkation, and to pay the
smallest sum they could hope would be accepted for their
passage in the steerage of some vessel bound to the
western land of promise,—that land which extends her
wide and cherishing arms to the industrious and prudent
artizan and worker of other countries, but from which the
idle, the incompetent, and the improvident, frequently
return chagrined and disappointed in their extravagant
expectations, and but too apt to denounce a country from
which, in default of an equivalent, they failed to realise
their golden dreams.
The first portion of the journey of the two wayfarers
was somewhat irksome, from the unaccustomed fatigue
which it involved ; and they gazed back upon the haunts
of their youth with sorrowful remembrance of the plea-
sures they had there so often enjoyed in a arlier life. The
friends and companions of their youth stood vividly pour-
frayed in their imagination before them. Then did the
adventure which they had chalked out for themselves as-
sume a vague and doubtful aspect. They felt that in the
chequered destinies of man, the dangers of voyage, travel,
and sickness, and the mischances and " ills that flesh is
heir to," they might never more behold those scenes and
those friends around whom their affections had entwined
more firmly than they were aware of, until the first hours
of separation disclosed to them the not discreditable yet
now saddening reality.
Fortified, however, by brighter reflections, they
" tramped" on with vigour, husbanding their means by
the way, and amusing each other, as they best conld, by
friendly converse. They at length reached Liverpool,
somewhat jaded, and procured a humble lodging near the
docks, for the night. On the following day they made
enquiries for the transit ships that were first to proceed to
New York, and were not a little mortified to learn that,
owing to the prevailing rage for emigration, the passage
money required was rather beyond their means to meet.
As they were informed that freights for human cattle
would probably be considerably lower as the season ad-
vanced, they at once determined to remain for a month or
two, and endeavour to procure employment, so that they
might maintain themselves, by a strict observance of eco-
nomy, and perhaps so far increase the contents of their
joint-stock purse as to enable them to avail themselves of
the first favourable opportunity to embark. They were,
however, disappointed. All the work they could obtain
amounted to but casual " jobs," though both were expert
in their business, and they were compelled, eventually, to
trench upon their little capital, to eke out the necessaries
of life. Times became gradually worse, and even more
precarious, at least, for them.
One day, on counting out what remained of their slender
stock in cash, they found that there was barely enough to
defray the passage of one of them, and they agreed, as a
last, though painful, resort, to draw lots which should
have it for the purpose of proceeding to the western world,
it being understood that the winner, if fortune favoured
him in the States, should remit a sufficient sum to enable
the other to join him there. The lots were drawn, and
James Cunningham (whose brother was in America, in
good circumstances) was the lucky man. It might be
supposed that he would naturally embrace the opportunity
thus afforded, to join a beloved brother in a foreign land,
and, in all probability, to draw down the sunshine of
prosperity upon his future life. But no ! much as he
loved his brother, his companion was scarcely less dear to
him, from long association in weal and in woe, and he
could not endure the thought of leaving him amongst
strangers, without one genuine friend to sooth him in ad-
versity, or share his joy if fortune should smile. With a
generous disregard, therefore, of self, he said—" No,
John, I shall not leave you ! We have been long
together, and we will struggle on together still, till better
times, when we can go by th . same ship, and this money
will keep the wolf from the door for at least a time."
This disinterested kindness on the part of Cunningham
deeply affected his companion, who endeavoured to per-
suade him to relinquish such an intention, and proceed.
But James was firm in his purpose, and they remained
together, Trade, in their line, became still more de-
pressed ; and their money being at last exhausting in
sparing outlay, they endured many sufferings and priva-
tions, which were, however, rendered tolerable by the
mental sympathy of the two friends. Reduced at length
to a state of great penury, Cunningham sold some patty
pans (purchased for, and used in, his business), to a Mrs.
a confectioner, in Liverpool, for the small sum of
two shillings and fourpence, with which he purchased
some treacle, which he manufactured into toffee, for chil-
dren, and (in order to keep soul and body together) sold
in the streets. This was the humble commencement of
his business on his own account; but not being very suc-
cessful in Liverpool, he removed his " head quarters" to
Birkenhead, where he sold, as he could, the same article.
He next made gingerbread nuts, and contrived to pick up
an.hquest but scanty livelihood, and to maintain through-
out all his vicissitudes an engaged cheerfulness of temper,
to which he was animated by a sacred hope of yet seeing
better times.

Coleman, in the meantime, endured great privations,
obtained only a small but precarious pittance by occa-
sional work up and down the town. The two friends,
however, never long lost sight of each other, and the
result of an occasional approach to better luck to one was
sure to be shared by his brother " chum."
Cunningham, for upwards of a year, was constrained to
stand outside the Birkenhead market. At length, he was
accidentally met by an old acquaintance, a native of Ire-
land, whom he had known in his younger days, and who,
" for auld lang syne," interested himself in his behalf.
This friend took a standing or table in the market in his
own name, and putting Cunningham into it, as if to act
for him, but in reality for the poor man himself, his busi-
ness went on rather more prosperously, and he was ena.
bled considerably to extend it. He finally took a shop in
the same market, for bread and confectionery, and, by
industry and attention, earned a moderate competency.
Meantime, Coleman also began to progress a little in
the world. He latterly became located with a respectable
master tradesman in his own line, in a neighbouring vil-
lage, in Cheshire, the resort of many of the most fashion-
able and opulent families from Liverpool and the vicinity.
It should be here stated that Cunningham had a bro-
ther in America in good circumstances, who was, during
the whole of these simple adventures of the two friends,
in ignorance of James's place of abode. He had re-
peatedly written to Leicestershire to ascertain, but
without any effect—the relatives of both knowing not in
what part of the world James had pitched his tent, or
whether, indeed, he was dead or living. We must here
change the scene, though but slightly as regards the
locality, and the sequel of our narrative will properly
form a second part.

On the cold, chilly night of Wednesday week last, (the
12th of January of the present year,) a well-dressed gen-
tleman, still young in years, and bringing with him several
carpet bags and packages, called at the house of Mr.
Cordon, a respectable butcher in New Brighton, who also
keeps a small inn adjoining his shop. The stranger called
for some refreshment, and immediately got into conver-
sation with the worthy host over a prime glass of " nut
brown ale." He stated that he had recently arrived
from New York, by the Sarah Sands ; that he had
settled in a town seventy-two miles westward of that
city, about seven years ago ; that business had prospered
with him beyond his most sanguine anticipations ; that
he had there left his wife and four children, to visit his
relatives and friends in Leicestershire—and, more parti-
cularly, to discover, if possible, a brother of whom he
had lest sight all the time alluded to, and whom it was
his desire to assist in the world. He added that he had
already, since his arrival, visited his native town, and also
Leicester, but had been unsuccessful, the only vague in-
formation he could obtain being that a person somewhat
answering the description lived at Newtown," or
" a New Town," near Liverpool ; that after fruitless
enquiries at " Newton," in Lancashire, and many places
around, he had come there in the slender hope that New
Brighton might be the " new town" alluded to. He
also enquired whether he could be accommodated with a
bed for the night, so that he might prosecute his enquiries
on the morrow.
Cordon said that he would endeavour to accommodate
him in the last particular, but regretted to add, being
well acquainted with the locality, that the enquiries of
the gentleman in that quarter would, he feared, be in
vain. The stranger was grieved to learn this latter in-
telligence, but he resolved to make the best of it, to re-
main for the night, and to trust to what good Providence
might hereafter award him in relation to his search.
While the two were conversing together in a vein rather
pensive, a sprightly young man came bouncing in to en-
joy with the landlord his accustomed evening glass after
the labours of the day, for they are cronies. The trio soon
got into amicable conversation. Very naturally, the
stranger in relating briefly some of his adventures in the
world, alluded to Market Harborough ; on hearing the
name of which (as will hereafter be admitted), the young
man as naturally pricked up his ears and listened with
astonishment. Question and reply as to that locality
speedily followed, and on the younger man mentioning
the name of his grandmother and others of his kin, it be-
came evident to both, that they were related at least by
marriage, if not by a closer affinity, a fact of which they
had not before been aware. At last the stranger said,—
" Did you ever know one James Cunningham, a confec-
tioner by trade, from Leicestershire ?"
" Know him !" rejoined the other, " I knew him years
ago, and know him now as intimately as ever." We
came together from home, to go abroad, and intended to
call of his brother Joseph ; but we never got away, and
will
ot-hinero,lT ' oa
w Are ife
you the man who you desire it."
James is now in Birkenhead, and doing rather well. I
RR take you yGouodtersaid th
hishouse .4)
the
accompanied him to Liverpool." The reply was—", I

am."
The countenance of the stranger underwent a sudden
change. He became ashy pale, hut it was the effect not
of sorrow or of fear, but of the highest and most noble
sensations of which the human mind is capable. He had
a happy family in a foreign land, but he now learned that
that lost brother was alive and well, and the measure of '
his happiness was full. He exclaimed with a sob, " I avi
the brother of James Cuwaingham !"