"To the hair of the dog that bit ya"

I awoke to the tapping in a distance hooves on an old dirt road lifting my head to see my lips stuck where my face slumbered Covered in drool black dye spotted my cheek A man yelled to me I jumped taken with surprise He walked over handing me a flask -You look lost-he stated As I took it -your looking rather confused... to the hair of the dog that bit ya-he tilted it for me swigging it bitterly my face like a putrid smell crossed my nose his dress was quite familiar that only seen in photographs from long ago -Whaaaat year is this?-Hesitantly asking the man -why its the new year eve of 1774- Looking abroad, nothing but trees, he and I, his horse drawn carriage, and my couch...