artered Major J. G. Barnard, and Lieutenant J. B. McPherson,
United States Engineers, both of whom afterward attained great fame
in the civil war.

My business relations in New York were with the Metropolitan Bank
and Bank of America; and with the very wealthy and most respectable
firm of Schuchhardt & Gebhard, of Nassau Street. Every thing went
along swimmingly till the 21st of August, when all Wall Street was
thrown into a spasm by the failure of the Ohio Life and Trust
Company, and the panic so resembled that in San Francisco, that,
having nothing seemingly at stake, I felt amused. But it soon
became a serious matter even to me. Western stocks and securities
tumbled to such a figure, that all Western banks that held such
securities, and had procured advances thereon, were compelled to
pay up or substitute increased collaterals. Our own house was
not a borrower in New York at all, but many of our Western
correspondents were, and it taxed my tune to watch their interests.
In September, the panic extended so as to threaten the safety of
even some of the New York banks not connected with the West; and
the alarm became general, and at last universal.

In the very midst of this panic came the news that the steamer
Central America, formerly the George Law, with six hundred
passengers and about sixteen hundred thousand dollars of treasure,
coming from Aspinwall, had foundered at sea, off the coast of
Georgia, and that about sixty of the passengers had been
providentially picked up by a Swedish bark, and brought into
Savannah. The absolute loss of this treasure went to swell the
confusion and panic of the day.

A few days after, I was standing in the vestibule of the
Metropolitan Hotel, and heard the captain of the Swedish bark tell
his singular story of the rescue of these passengers. He was a
short, sailor-like-looking man, with a strong German or Swedish
accent. He said that he was sailing from some port in Honduras for
Sweden, running down the Gulf Stream off Savannah. The weather had
been heavy for some days, and, about nightfall, as he paced his
deck, he observed a man-of-war hawk circle about his vessel,
gradually lowering, until the bird was as it were aiming at him.
He jerked out a belaying-pin, struck at the bird, missed it, when
the hawk again rose high in the air, and a second time began to
descend, contract his circle, and make at him again. The second
time he hit the bird, and struck it to the deck