The Fishers

John Fisher

10, the smith's youngest boy; came from Fairford on 12 March 1354 with his father Adam, his mother Joan and his brothers Alan (17) and Robert (14).

House: The Fishers
Born: about 1343
Age: 10
Mother: Joan Fisher
Father: Adam Fisher
Brother: Alan Fisher
Brother: Robert Fisher

Who they are

Small for ten and makes up for it: proud, loud about what he's done, and sure he can do what his brothers do.
Likes a cup of small ale more than a boy should, and has been known to finish what's left in his brothers'.
Cutting firewood with the rest since the day they came, and keeping count of his loads: twelve more, his father said, and he's down to the last of them.
Carries his own catch home, every time, and tells it over. His arms get sore at the wood and he never says so.
Wat Smith at the inn is his friend, though neither of them would call it that: they fight over whose forge it is and meet in the croft nearly every afternoon. Wat calls him a liar, then asks three more questions.
9 April 1354: Wat is the best to talk to and his rival: both want the forge and the bellows, and John fears where that leaves him.
9 April 1354: Wat told him he listens for a fever in his mother's chest, and John didn't know what to say.
9 April 1354: His arms get sore at the wood and he never says so, and he carries every catch home himself.
9 April 1354: John means to finish his last loads and be out on the common with the other lads.
22 April 1354: He took his own pike on 12 April, as he said he would, and it's his, not his mother's.
22 April 1354: He means to finish his wood, then ask his father for the bellows himself, and the hammer too, standing up straight.
22 April 1354: Wat will fight him for the bellows, yet Wat listens at night for his mother's cough, and John didn't know what to say to that.
22 April 1354: He wants to know the other lads on the common, and Amy, who's six, won't believe a word he tells her.
5 May 1354: Wat's stubborn and watchful.
5 May 1354: Walter Smith listens for fever in his mother's chest.
5 May 1354: Amice knows her hawks and foxes.
5 May 1354: Meg coughs at night.

Pastimes

Being first, and being told so.
Ale at the board.
A tale, and the bigger the better.
The lake, and telling over what came out of it.
Meg at the inn, who talked to him at the lake a whole morning and never once called him a liar.

How they talk

Brags and numbers: "I've cut eight loads this week." "Father says I'm to cut twelve more." Calls his father "Father."
To Wat: "Which is it, Wat?" and "I'd have got it back."
To Kit: "You're a liar," and then she says it back.
To grown people: quick, and he'll tell them what he's caught before they ask.
When he doesn't know what to say, he tells you about his fish.
Called: "Jack," at home.

What he thought lately

Wat wants to see the fish, not just hear about the eel-rod. Tomorrow I'll carry one home myself, and then he can't call me a liar.
14 June

My eyes don't sting now, so I could see all morning that nothing was biting. I still haven't thanked Henry for Rob's herbs. It's hard to walk up to the reeve.
13 June

Home all day with my eyes, and not a stick cut. If Alan gets the hammer while I'm sat here, the axe is all that's left to me.
11 June

My eyes stung all day. Wat came by the croft and asked about holy water, like it could mend them. Maybe it could.
7 June

Cut my wood in the drizzle till my arms ached, and said nothing of it. Meg talked a good while in the woods and never once called me a liar. I still haven't thanked Henry for Rob's herbs. Tomorrow I'll go, wet or dry.
29 May

Overheard

16 June, afternoon at the croft · Walter Smith and John Fisher

John: Wat, you're not to stand there gawping at my wood. I've cut eight loads this week and I've twelve more to go.

Walter: Twelve more? Father Stephen would have had them stacked by now, dry on top, not wet under the eaves like yours.

John: My father says the eaves are where the wet gets in, so I'm stacking them under the lean-to, and you can keep your opinions to yourself.

Walter: Fine. Come and see the heron at the shallows before dark, then. It's still as a post and I'll outlast it, I always do.

14 June, afternoon at the croft · Walter Smith and John Fisher

Walter: Your loads are done, John? Mam says the brewing's late and I'm to fetch the ale casks up from the cellar myself.

John: Not done. Twelve more, Father said, and I've only the last three left, so I'll be at them tomorrow. Wood's wet under the eaves again, look.

Walter: Then bring the eel-rod down to the lake with you, the one you said wouldn't bend. Does it hold when you pull, or does it slip?

John: It holds. I'm going back to the lake tomorrow and bringing my catch home myself, every fish of it, and I'll show you the bream I got last week.

In the books

Nothing yet beyond the daily round.

The daily round (1 more)

12 April John Fisher took a pike from the lake.