Newspaper Page Text
NO. 51.
THE REFLECTOR.
MILLEDGEVILLE, G. TUESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1818.
1ISCELLANY.
Li S TOl H IN IIUNCK, (iLllMAM, &C.
which blazed on (lie hearth, in (he miserable
kitchen. The woman of the house told us she
was there at the time of the battle, but that she
fled to the woods d u ring the heat of the action
and on her return she found (he house filled
with the. wounded. It was near this place
that Wellington and Bluchcr met after th
action.
La Coste said that Bonaparte spoke but
little during the bailie—and when the Cate o
the day was determined against him, he sine
ply cried, “ It is all over,” and fled—He was
as pale as death. La Coste was with him till
four in the morning, when he was dismissed.
What most of all struck me, and must
think strike every body, is the narrow com
pass of tiie ground in which two such larg
AGRICULTURAL.
WATERLOO.
ival ill Brussels, lieut. II
tarted in a cabriolet for Water-
ving Brussels, we turned to the
unentered the forest of Soignies,
ch we. continued to travel, till
the village of Waterloo. The
tromely fine, and if there were
action to Waterloo, this circum-
render it a ride well worthy the
f a leisure morning. We rcarli-
. Jean, which is about a mile and
Waterloo, (and at which place
s fought) about ten. tV e break-1 armies wercengagcd, and so terrible a slaugb
ttlc auberge at the end of the vil- ter took place. It was not as La Coste obser
ving obtained the famous Jean
Coste, who was Bonaparte’s
memorable occasion of (lie bat
Tceronc, we proceeded to view
road through Waterloo to Cbar-
directly along the centre of the
The first object that arrest-
ion was a solitary tree, on a lit-
and oil a rising bank close on
side of the road. This is call-
h tree, from the circumstance
e station occupied by lord Wel-
can be said to have bad any
, for be was perpetually riding
mate his men, and during th
e day performed the service of
c respective regiments that nced-
iration of his presence—But it
lying point for his staff, and there
uentiy himself. Just behind that
t path over the farm, crosses tin
ihs a bank of about three feet in
each side of it, and here our troops
Ives from the fury of the enemy’s
lying down upon the ground
were wanted. One officer who
s lane, was greatly alarmed and
restless. Ilis comrades cried out
tat if lie was afraid,‘the best thing
o would be to lie still—but lie wold',
head to see what was going on,
nstaut a cannon ball carried it off.
T; of the road, a little beyond Wel-
are two other trees, the first a
or fifty yards from the road, and
about the same distance from tin*
the first general l’icton fell, and
'ond lord Uxbridge lost bis leg, and
tlier to the left in the valley, colo-
nby was killed. Far to the left in
tion, is the wood from which the
sallied out at four under Bulow.
en, under Blucher, when lord Wel-
rcciving their approach made his
■*, and in ten minutes, as our guide
himself, the French were all in
ot many yards from Wellington
ic bank close by the road side, col.
is aid-de-camp, received his inor-
A noble monument of black mar-
erecting on the spot, to perpetuate
y of the event, by his sister and
from this monument you look
the farm house of La Huye Saiutc.
lose to the right, side of the roads.
Hanoverians of the German legi-
till all their ammunition w as ex
it then, to the amount of four liuii-
were put to the bayonet by the
This seems to have been the only
nee of omission with which lord
n charged himself after the engage-
AVeought,” said he, “to have made
e wall at the back of the house,
applied them by that method with
n—but I could not think of ever}
’he house and barn face each other
is between them and they are con-
their gable ends bj high a alls and
enclosure were the Hanoverians,
where in the walls, and roofs, and
the house and barn, are marks of
and musketry, and on the wall of
re still to be seen the stains of the
was spilt, when their ammunition
usted, the.poor fellows were unable
to resist, aud the French forcing
into the enclosure, mowed them
corn. We enquired for the. old
o remained uninjured in the cellar
se during the whole of the action,
old that she was not there, as the
o then had the farm had since re
ap of the hill, a quarter of a mile
rm house of La Haye Sainte, on
nd sideof the road, is the post house
Belle Alliance, and about half wav
c farm house and the Belle Alliance
high hanks on either side of the
ed him from the enemy’s cannon,
ed over his head, w as the principal
Bonaparte during the greater part
on, and where the guide said he rc-
e hours at one time. Wc halted
ted heroes, for we were weary with
the mud, and drenched with rain,
e Alliance. I took a glass of cau-
‘Ic we warmed oursclve bv the fire
ved, a battle, it was a massacre—and the
duke of Wellington is understood to consider
it as by no means so just an exhibition of bis
skill in military tactics as many of his former
engagements.
The field of Waterloo is now rich in wav
ing corn, ripening for the sickle of the hus
bandman. What a scene it must have been
when death was the reaper, and gathered in
his thousands of sheaves to the gardner of
the grave. And what a scene will it be a-
gain when the trump of the Archangel shall
awake the sleepers that repose beneath its
clods, and the mighty armies tiiat day anni
hilated shall start up to life upon the plain on
which they fell. I never heard a sermon so
impressive as the silence that reigned arouuu
me un the Celt! of Waterloo. I could not hot
connect their everlasting destinies with the
thousands of the dead upon whose dust I trod.
The eternity that seemed to open there upon
my view, peopled with the spirit of the slain,
was an awful scene. The bitterness of tin*
dying on the field of battle—the widow’s
cries—the. orphan’s tears—the agonies of sur
viving friendship—were all forgotten. I only
saw the immortal soul hurried unprepared,
and perhaps blaspheming, into the presence
if its God. 1 shuddered at the contempla
tion, and felt how deadly a scourge, how
bitter a curse is war.”
END OF SUMMER.
The sun is now taking leave. Every
thing is changed with us. The earth which
was lately so beautiful and fruitful, is
now becoming gradually barren and poor.
Wc no longer behold that fine enamel of trees
blossom ; the charms of spring; the
magnificence of summer ; those different
tints and shades of verdure in the woods and
meadows ; the purple grapes ; nor the gold-
harvests which crowned our fields.
When the earth is stripped of its corn, its
grass, and its leaves, nothing is to be seen
but a rough and rugged surface. It has no
longer that beautiful appearance whi, h the
growth of corn, greens, and herbs, produc
ed over a vast country.—The birds no long
er sing. Nothing now recalls to the mind o
man that universal jov which reigned through
out all animated nature. He hears nothing
now but the murmuring streams and whistle-
ing winds. Constant!} the same dull sounds
which can only create disagreeable sensa
tions. The fields have lost their perfume ;
and the air is damp and cold.
“ Yet the country, stripped and desert as
it is, still presents to a feeling mind the im
age of happiness. We may recollect
with gratitude to Heaven, that the fields
which are now barren, were once covered
with corn and a plentiful harvest. It is true
that the orchards and gardens are now strip
ped, but the remembrance of what they be
stowed upon us, may make us content to
bear the northern blasts, which at present
we feel so sharp. The leaves are fallen from
the fruit trees , the grass of the field is with
ered ; the dark^louds fill the sky and fall
in heavy rains.—The unthinking man com
plains at this, but the wise man beholds the
earth moistened with rain ; and beholds it
with a sweet satisfaction. The dried leaves
& faded grass are prepared by the autumnal
rains to form manure to enrich the ground.
This reflection with the pleasing expectation
of Spring, must naturally excite our grati
tude, for the tender mercies of our Greater.
Though the earth has lost its beauty and ex
terior charms, and is exposed to the murmurs
of those it has nourished and cheered, it has
already begun again to labor secretly within
its bosom for their future welfare.
ii Perhaps our own lot in this world has
its seasons : if it be so, let us in the dull
winter of life have recourse to the provisions
laid up in the days of prosperity ; and en
deavor to make a good use of the fruits of
our education and experience. Happy, if
at the close of life, we carry with us to the
grave the merit of having been useful to so-
society.—Sterne's Rejections.
Old Shooter, the comedian, having a dis
pute in the green room, with Mrs. Yates, the
actress, “ madam,” says he, “ I have heard
of Tartar and Brimstone ; hut it must be
acknowledged, you are the erearn of the one
and the Jlower of the other.”
FROM THE FRANKLIN REPOSITORY.
CIDER WINE.
As the present is the proper time for inak
ing cider wine, 1 wish (through the medium
of your paper) to recommend the making of
that article to my fellow citizens : and like
wise to give them some knowledge of tli
principles of the vinous fermentation, as in
my opinion, it is for the want of that know
ledge, that they so often fail in making good
wine. There are many receipts published
that give directions for making wine, but
they are very defective, as they do not state
the causes that may vary the process of fer
mentation.
The constituent principles necessary to
form wine, are sugar, water, arid and mucil
ago. By the decomposition of these suhstan
ces in their proper proportions, spirit is
volved sufficient to prevent their undergoing
the acetous fermentation ; but if the water
arid, or inucilugc, is superabundant, it will
require the addition of spirit to prevent the
acetous fermentation.
Sugar is the most necessary ingredient in
nuking wine, for it can be made by ferment
ing sugar aud water alone, aud no substance
will undergo the spirituous fermentation w ith-
iut it contains sugar.
A certain beat is required to enable the
mass to attract oxygen from the atmosphere
for it is by the absorption of oxygen that all
fermentation is produced, and it is cncreased
>r diminished, in proportion as heat aud air
are applied or taken off.
The proper temperature to promote vinous
fermentation, is between the 45 and 70th de-
ree of Fahrenheits thermometer. The
piuntity of matter will, also effect the pro
cess ; the greater the mass the more active
the fermentation, and vice versa. Likewise
the quantity of sediment or impurities that
ire in the. ingredients, will increase the fer
mentation.
Cider contains more water, mucilage Rnd
arid, but considerably less sugar, than the
juice of the real grape, therefore to bring ci
der to the nature of must, it will require the
addition of sugar, which must vary accord
ing to the heat of the air or the richness of
the cider. By evaporating the cider it will
lose a portion of its water, and require less
sugar, hut the more sugar that is used, the
stronger and richer tue wine will be, provid
ed the fermentation is sufficient to decom
pose it.
Thq apples from which wine is to be made
should be gathered and pressed immediately
after they fall, as they will be bruised by fall
ing aud gathering. The bruised portions
will ferment and become acetous, and act as
leaven to the rest of the mass. Sound ap
ples contain malic acid, which is essential to
making wine, but by fermenting it becomes
acetous acid, or vinegar. The cider should
he taken from the press as soon as it is clear
of pumice, as the first that conies off - con
tains more sugar, and less water and mucil
age than the last. From one pound and a
half to two pounds of brown sugar, may be
added to each gallon of cider, and placed in
a proper situation to ferment. If the cider
be boiled one pound of sugar w ill do. Hon
ey and molasses are impure sugars, and if
used, it will require more of them. The fer
menting vessel should he open atone end to]
admit the air freely, aud permit the scum to
be taken off - . A common barrel may do, but
the fermentation will not be so perfect, as the
air lias not such free access, for the barrel
must be kept full, to permit the scum to work
out at the bung hole.
The vessel should he placed in such a sit
uation that the w ine may be racked off with
out moving it, and the faucet should be as
near the bottom as could be, without letting
out the dregs. If the last that is drawn off
be, muddy, it should be kept in a separate
vessel 12 or 24 hours, until it settles, and
then put witli the rest of the wine. It should
be in a temperature between fifty and sixty
degrees, and if the atmosphere is not that
warm, it should be put in a kitchen or stove
room, kept at that heat night and day, dur
ing fermentation—1 believe it is for want of
attention to this principle, that so many have
failed in making rider wine. It is generally
made late in the session, and placed in situa
tions w here the atmosphere is frequently be
low the freezing point; of course, the fer
mentation will he suspended, and if there is
occasional w armth, it will be very imperfect,
and the wine will be luscious. The first
fermentation will mostly be perfected in se
ven days, but it may end sooner or later, ac
cording to the beat that is applied. It should
carefully be attended to, and if the fermenta
tion be not sufficiently active, a littic crude
tartar or cream of tartar may be added, and
the, superabundant acid it contains, will act
as leaven. If the fermentation be too active
and tend to the aoetous, (which may he
known by tasting) it may be restrained by
adding more sugar, reducing the heat ap
plied, or preventing the access of air, (tak
ing care not to close the vessel so tight as to
endanger its bursting.) When the ferment
ation moderates, it may be carefully racked
oft’ and one pint ol good apple brandy added
to each gallon of wine, If the same vessel
he used, it must he rinsed with gravel, to
take off the yeast that adheres to the inside,
before the wine is returned. The vessel
must he full and dose bunged, and after
standing six weeks, or less if the place it is
kept in be warm, it must be again racked off,
for cider contains much mucilage, which is
the principle that disposes to the acetous fer
mentation, and it is allowed to lie in.tbe bot
tom of the vessel, it will sour the wine ; or if
there be sufficient, spirit to prevent souring,
it will give the wine that disagreeable taste
which is usually called tasting of the vessel.
It will likewise improve the quality of the
wine, if it bo racked off the beginning of
the ensuing summer.
\Ve have the authority of Joseph Cooper,
esq. of New Jersey, in favor of frequent
racking, who says he racked his grape wine
several times in the course of a year, and
found it to become more mellow every time,
and of as good a duality when a year old,
as his other wine of two years old
which was racked hut once. The wine may
be drank in eight months, but it will still im
prove in quality, if kept two or three years,
until all the ingredients with which it wa3
made, are decomposed, for the decomposition
goes on very slowly when the vessel is close,
and if it was left open, the alcohol would e-
vaporatc, and the wine become flat or
sour.
By attending to these directions and prin
ciples, farmers will lie enabled to make bet
ter wine than most of the foreign adulterat
ed w ine, which wc buy at a high price.
N. B. As my name, is not well enough
known to give any celebrity to this produc
tion, I shall sign myself, ■
A Citixen of Franklin Countij.
INLAND NAVIGVTION.
NEW-YORK CANAL.
The Grand Canal of New-York is the
greatest work of the kind that has yet been
undertaken in our country. Some idea of its
magnitude and extent may be obtained from
the following extract from a paper printed at
Onomlago, New-York.
The canal commenced by the state of
NeAv-Yurk, is to extend from lake Erie to
the tide waters of the. Hudson. The dis
tance in a direct line exceeds 300 miles ; on
the rout pursued it will he about 353 miles,
it is to be 40 feet wide at the surface of the
water, aud 23 at the bottom. The water to
tie 4 feet deep. Tiie whole space will be di
vided into a number of levels, each carried
as tar as the face of the country will admit,
and connected with the next succeeding level
by one or more locks. The locks are to he
ninety feet long and 12 feet wide. Boats,
properly constructed, carrying too tons, may
then pass the locks and pass each other in the
canal. There is to be a tow path on one side
of the canal, for one or more, horses to draw
the boats. The usual rate of loaded boats is
about 2 1-2 miles per hour; passage boats
sometimes go as fast as 4 mile per hour. As
each section of the canal between any two
locks, will he level, there will be no current
in the water except so much as to supply
lockage water for the next descending locks.
The body of the canal is to be excavated in
the earth ; but when streams of wah-r or
gullies intervene, which cannot be passed
on the surface of the earth without bending
the canal too far out of Us course to go round
their heads, the earth must be raised by em
bankments to the proper level, of sufficient
width for the canal to pass on them, with
their sides of such a slope as to prevent then*
sliding or caving off. Through these em
bankments must be made colverts or passag
es for the water from the upper side under
the canal, to prevent its ponding there and
endangering the embankment. When the
streams are largo, aqueduct bridges will be
necessary.
Wc will now' proceed to examine the route
surveyed for the canal. It commences in the
Buffalo creek, on the level of lake Erie, from
whence it passes along the hank of the Nia
gara river 15 miles, to the Tonawant; c cek.
Here a dam across the creek 4 feet high,
raises the water to the level of lake- Eric,
would also produce a level surface ot water
in the creek for 11 miles up its channel, which
with a tow path on one side would he the. ca
nal for that distance. Here it leaves the
Tonawanta, and turning to the north, cross
es the ridge w hich forms the Niagara falls—
this is passed by a deep cutting of about 23
feet. Here the canal falls by 8 locks 65 to
level of Gcnnesce river. On this level it con
tinues to that river, where a dam of ID lcet
will raise the river to its level, and the boats
on the canal may pass across without an a-
queduct. About 3 or 4 miles east of Gcnne-
sec river, after passing about TO miles on
one level, the ranal falls 49 feet by 6 locks,
it ti.».i proceeds on one level absrut K>
