“He hath no hurt,” said Lisbeth, “but, oh Jed, thy poor hands!”
They were, indeed, badly scorched and painful. His hair was singed, his eyebrows gone and his ears blistered but no serious harm had been suffered. When Lisbeth had attended to his burns she picked up the children and carried them to her house hard by.
On the morrow, when the ashes were raked the bones of a woman were discovered. The landlord of the Checquers said he had let the house but the day before to one Mary Smith who had paid a month’s rent in advance. He knew nothing of her nor whence she came. Jed and Lisbeth kept the children; they were childless and well to do. There was no formal adoption. The children were supposed to be brother and sister. He said his name was Don, which was interpreted as John, and that her name was Banch, which was interpreted as Blanche.
Jed Fenchurch was an armorer, which a writer of that day has called the least mean of mean occupations. His shop at the back of the house, in a building entered by a passage way alongside. Here the children delighted to play and John helped as he was able as he grew stronger. Both attended the Abbey school and were well educated for those days, when the scholar was a man who could read and write.
John naturally heard much about feats of arms and was taught at first hand the uses of arms and armor. He learned to use the long bow, and as he developed into young manhood, and his arm grew long and his muscles tough and strong, he drew his arrows to the nock. This weapon was then the arm of most reliance and its development, together with the use of dismounted cavalry, developed by Edward III and the Black Prince, the cause of the English strength.
Neither was Blanche neglected. Her foster mother, Lisbeth, had also been foster mother to the great Earl of Warwick and had learned much of gentle ways in the great castle. Many of these she imparted to Blanche, and was much blamed by her gossips for raising the child in ways above her station.
There came a day when the great Earl visited his foster mother. His visit was marked by festivities given by the holy fathers of the Abbey in his honor, where barrels of beer were broached and beeves were roasted whole. The Earl was a tall, well-built man of handsome presence and kindly mien, much beloved by gentle and common. He first greeted and kissed his old nurse; the children were then presented. John’s height and reach of arm earned his commendation. “I will even take him into my service, an you wish,” said he.
“Right gladly will he come, your highness,” said Lisbeth, “you are good to your old nurse and her ward; God will reward you.”
“Not so,” said the Earl, “I but find a fine bowman.”
“’Tis a fine deed, natheless, John,” said Lisbeth when the Earl had departed, “and but shows the kind heart; but thou art the lucky boy! In all England lives no greater; and he will watch and guard thee; thou art indeed fortunate. Do I not know and love him?”