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The Trumpet-Major by Thomas Hardy
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had no better weapons, ridges on the down thrown up during the
encampment, fragments of volunteer uniform, and other such lingering
remains, brought to my imagination in early childhood the state of
affairs at the date of the war more vividly than volumes of history
could have done.

Those who have attempted to construct a coherent narrative of past
times from the fragmentary information furnished by survivors, are
aware of the difficulty of ascertaining the true sequence of events
indiscriminately recalled. For this purpose the newspapers of the
date were indispensable. Of other documents consulted I may
mention, for the satisfaction of those who love a true story, that
the 'Address to all Ranks and Descriptions of Englishmen' was
transcribed from an original copy in a local museum; that the
hieroglyphic portrait of Napoleon existed as a print down to the
present day in an old woman's cottage near 'Overcombe;' that the
particulars of the King's doings at his favourite watering-place
were augmented by details from records of the time. The drilling
scene of the local militia received some additions from an account
given in so grave a work as Gifford's 'History of the Wars of the
French Revolution' (London, 1817). But on reference to the History
I find I was mistaken in supposing the account to be advanced as
authentic, or to refer to rural England. However, it does in a
large degree accord with the local traditions of such scenes that I
have heard recounted, times without number, and the system of drill
was tested by reference to the Army Regulations of 1801, and other
military handbooks. Almost the whole narrative of the supposed
landing of the French in the Bay is from oral relation as aforesaid.
Other proofs of the veracity of this chronicle have escaped my
recollection.
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