and Piers Plowman says our Lord came in through
Both dore and yates
To Peter and to these apostles.[[124]]
Our ‘Yates,’ written once ‘Atte Yate,’ by their numbers can bear testimony to the familiarity with which this expression was once used. ‘Byatt’ I have just shown to be the same as ‘Bygate,’ and ‘Woodyat’ is but equivalent to ‘Woodgate.’ Other compounds are found in the old registers. In the ‘Placitorum’ of the thirteenth century, for instance, we light upon a ‘Christiana atte Chircheyate,’ and a ‘John atte Foldyate;’ while in the Hundred Rolls of the same period we find a ‘Walter atte Lideyate,’ now familiarly known to us as ‘Lidgate.’ Our ‘Hatchs,’ once enrolled as ‘de la Hache,’ like our before-mentioned ‘Hatchers’ and ‘Hatchmans,’ represented the simple bar that ran athwart the woodland pathway. We still call the upper-deck with its crossbars the hatches, and a weir is yet with the country folk a hatch. Chaucer speaks of—
Lurking in hernes and in lanes blinde.
Any nook or corner of land was with our forefathers a ‘hearne,’ and as ‘en le Herne’ or ‘atte Hurne’ the surname is frequently found in the thirteenth century.[[125]] ‘De la Corner’ is, of course, but a synonymous term. A passage betwixt two houses, or a narrow defile between two hillsides, was a ‘gore,’ akin, we may safely say, to ‘gorge.’ Our ‘Gores,’ as descendants of the old ‘de la Gore,’ are thus explained. ‘De la Goreway,’ which once existed, is now, I believe, obsolete. One of the most fertile roots of nomenclature was the simple roadside ‘cross’ or ‘crouch,’ the latter old English form still lingering in our ‘crutched’ or ‘crouched Friars.’ Langland describes a pilgrim as having ‘many a crouche on his cloke;’ i.e. many a mark of the cross embroidered thereon. A dweller by one of these wayside crucifixes would easily get the sobriquet therefrom, and thus we find ‘atte Crouch’ to be of early occurrence. Our ‘Crouchmans’ and ‘Crouchers’ I have already mentioned. A ‘Richard Crocheman’ is found in the Hundred Rolls, and a ‘William Croucheman’ in another entry of the same period. As for the simpler ‘Cross,’ once written ‘atte Cross,’ it is to be met with everywhere. ‘Crosier’ and ‘Crozier’ I shall, in my next chapter, show to be official rather than local; so we may pass them by for the present. The more Saxon ‘Rood’ or ‘Rudd’ is not without its representatives. ‘Margery atte Rudde’ is found in the ‘Placitorum,’ and our ‘Rudders’ and ‘Ruddimans,’ I doubt not, stand for the more directly personal form. Talking of crosses, we may mention, in passing, our ‘Bellhouses,’ not unfrequently found as ‘atte Belhus’ or ‘de la Belhuse.’ The founder of this name dwelt in the small domicile attached to the monastic pile, and, no doubt, had for his care the striking of the innumerable calls to the supply of either the bodily or spiritual wants of those within. Our ‘Bellows,’ I believe, are but a modification of this. The last syllable has undergone a similar change in several other instances. Thus the form ‘del Hellus’ was but ‘Hill-house,’ ‘Woodus’ is but the old ‘de la Wodehouse,’ ‘Stannus’ but ‘Stanehouse’ or ‘Stonehouse,’ ‘Malthus’ but ‘Malthouse,’ and ‘Bacchus’ is found originally as ‘del Bakehouse.’[[126]] The old ‘Atte Grene,’ a name familiar enough without the prefix, may be set beside our ‘Plastows,’ relics of the ‘Atte Pleistowe’ or ‘de la Pleystowe’ of the period we are considering. The ‘play-stowe’ (that is, ‘playground’) seems to have been the general term in olden days for the open piece of greensward near the centre of the village where the may-pole stood, and where all the sports at holiday times and wake tides were carried on.[[127]] Our ‘Meads’ or ‘Meddes’ hail from the ‘meadow,’ or ‘mead.’ ‘Ate Med’ is the early form.[[128]]
A ‘croft’ was an enclosed field for pasture. Besides ‘Croft’ it has given us ‘Meadowcroft,’ ‘Ryecroft,’ ‘Bancroft’ (that is, bean-croft), ‘Berecroft’ (that is, barley-croft), and ‘Haycraft’ (that is, hedged-croft). It seems, however, to have been freely used, also, in the sense of garth or yard, the enclosure in which, or by which, the house stood. Thus, in the ‘Townley Mysteries,’ Satan is represented as calling to the depraved and vile, and saying—
Come to my crofte alle ye.
With the humour of the period, which was ever largely intermingled in even the most sacred themes, one of the characters, acting as a demon, replies—
Souls come so thyk now late unto hell