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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>