Publisher's Synopsis
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1860 edition. Excerpt: ... FAE away from London, in the sixteenth century, far away (so it was reckoned in those days) from any town of note, stood Kentmire Hall. There, for five generations, had lived the family of Gilpin; a family of no mean repute in their county of Westmoreland. There, in the reign of King John, had lived the first owner of the Hall, that Richard Gilpin who, singlehanded, slew the wild boar which had been the terror of the simple people dwelling amongst the mountains of the lake country. And there, within the memory of many then living, that gallant knight who fell in the battle of Bosworth had been proud to bear upon his coat of arms the boar which commemorated the courage of his ancestor. Many years had passed since his mountain retainers had closed the eyes of the young heir of Kentmire, as he lay on the battlefield; his long hair damp and straight, and the boar upon his vest besmeared with blood, as the wild boar of Westmoreland had been more than two centuries before. The fair child who had mourned his brother's loss had long ago succeeded to his estate, and had grown to be an elderly and grey-haired man. The master of Kentmire Hall kept open house, treating travellers courteously, and shewing all honour to the ministers of God. It chanced one day that a begging friar came by that way. He was but a worthless fellow, could Edwin Gilpin have seen the wolf beneath the sheep's clothing: but report said he was a zealous preacher; and Gilpin, hearing that he purposed to preach in the neighbourhood next day, received him into his house on Saturday, entertaining him with all respect. Nor, indeed, had the Westmoreland squire been differently disposed, could he, for fear of punishment, have done otherwise. So sad was the state of the Church at that...
