RECENTLY I was in a DIY shop when a man walked in and asked whether it stocked lengths of ready-cut timber. On being assured that it kept varying lengths and widths, he was asked what size he required.

“I want it either six foot or two metres long, two inches wide and two centimetres thick,” was his reply.

“A length of two by one?”

“Right,” smiled the customer.

This reminded me of the complexity of units of measurement in this country, for we did not adopt the metric systems until comparatively recently. In fact, metric units of measure were used in European countries as early as 1795, but it wasn’t until 1972 that the European Economic Community passed a directive that catalogued the units of measure that might be used in the EEC.

However, it was not until January 1, 2010, that an EU Directive banned acres as a unit of measure of land that was either sold or registered. In spite of that, we still have Hundred Acre Fields or areas of land that are three times the size of a football pitch or twice the area of Hyde Park while some larger bits are about the size of Luxembourg or Belgium. The precise measurement of areas of land has long been something of a mystery. Here in the north in Anglo-Saxon times, landowners would measure their area of land by the amount that could reasonably be ploughed by a team of eight oxen in one year. This was known as the plough-land or simply The Plough.

Tenants of plough-lands paid plough-alms of one penny to the church and they also had rights known as plough-bote. These allowed them to take timber from the woodlands to make repairs or build ploughs; the hay-bote allowed them to take timber to repair fences, and the fire-bote allowed them to take wood for cooking and heating. Collectively, these were known as estovers.

The plough-land was divided into acres, and a quarter of it was known as a virgate. A virgate could vary between 15 and 30 acres but this measurement differed from place to place, generally being around 20 acres. There was a smaller unit known as a yard-land, a quarter of which was a fardel. It was widely understood that two fardels made a nook and four nooks became a yard-land.

However, further confusion was created in some districts where the area ploughed by an ox in a year was known as an oxgang, sometimes known as an osken or oxgate. This was a fictitious measurement because an ox never ploughed alone – it was always part of a team, usually eight, although sometimes an ox worked alongside a horse. An area of four oxgangs was known as liberta terrae which equates with some 12 or 15 acres, and the owner of 15 liberta terrae qualified for a knighthood.

One of the smaller units of length was a fall, this being 1/40th of a furlong and as a square measure it was six ells or 1/160th of an acre. Another obscure measurement was farthingland, which was used in Sussex and meant the copyhold descended to the youngest son, or in default, the youngest daughter. This was not the same as a farthing of land. A farthing of land was a large area, although there was also a farthingdeal or farundel which was a rood or quarter of an acre.

If all this appears confusing, it is worthy of record that the acre was first legally defined in 1305 by the Statutum de Admensuratione Terre.

It said that an acre contained 160 square perches, a perch then being five and a half yards. In our time, the standard acre contained four roods, and each rood comprised 40 poles or perches. Each pole contained 272 and a half square feet, thus producing an acre of 4,840 sq yards. This received legal approval in the Weights and Measures Act of 1878 and was used in all legal contracts, wills, deeds and other documents. It became known as the Standard English measurement.

But there was a snag. The Welsh acre was 9,680 sq yards which had two variations, an erw with 4,320 sq yards and a stang of 3,240 sq yards. The Irish acre was 7,840 sq yards and the Scottish one was 6,150.4 sq yards. The Leicestershire acre was 2,308.75 sq yards, the Westmoreland one was 6,760 sq yards with the largest in Cheshire at 10,240 sq yards. So much for standardisation!

Now hectares have replaced acres, one can only wonder whether there are locally-sized examples in Durham, North Yorkshire, West Yorkshire and East Yorkshire. After all, it has always been claimed Yorkshire miles are longer than others, so are Yorkshire hectares larger than elsewhere?

These puzzles in our measurements can be further complicated by a well-known measurement used in this region. It is the cock-stride. It appears to be a vague term used to indicate a short distance, eg, only a cock-stride away, but I have also heard it used to indicate a short period of time. One example is “Sun-up’s only a cock-stride away”.

One of a cockerel’s links with dawn is well known. It crows at dawn and in some areas this was known as cock-light or cock-leet. In some areas of the North York Moors, it seems cock-leet referred to those few minutes just before the sun rose.

It was the time to get out of bed and begin work before sunrise.

Not surprisingly, cock-shut indicated twilight as the sun was setting and there were some areas of the Cleveland Hills that sunlight never reached.

They were known as cock-shut spots. I believe some of these actually bore the name of Cockshut. One was said to be near Captain Cook’s Monument near Great Ayton and another close to Kilton Castle near Loftus.

When the Ordnance Survey map-makers introduced their maps, they often changed names, preferring Standard English to our dialect variations. For this reason, I believe some Cockshuts were re-named Cock Shots which suggests a totally different meaning associated with the shooting of game. But Cock Shots are really places where the sun never reached.

A full day was often known as a period extending from cock-leet to cock-shut, an indeterminate time dictated by the seasonal variations of the sun’s movements.

Following my notes about the twin villages of Brafferton and Helperby (D&S, Oct.12), I have received a note from a former resident of Helperby. She lived there for more than 20 years, moving away about 15 years ago. She tells me the older residents were very keen to stress they lived in either Brafferton or Helperby.

In her time there, Helperby had three pubs, but no church and no school, while Brafferton had a church, a school and one pub. She adds it was always considered too far from York to be within the commuter belt but since then it has expanded with lots of new houses and an increased middle-class population.