In the first division would came the cases in which ham followed the patronymic ing, denoting “the sons of.” Thus Gillingham (Gelingham in Domesday) was the settlement of the Gillings, who are also found at Gilling in Yorkshire, Gillingham in Norfolk, and Gillingham in Dorset. The home of the Mottings was at Mottingham, and that of the Leasings at Lossenham. Our Chilham would not at first sight seem to come in here; but in a charter of King Wihdraed in 699 it is called “Cilling,” and in another of 814 “the port which is called Cillincg” (the Stour was then navigable up to here for small craft), and a manor in Chilham is Shillingfield, so that a connection with the Gillings may be suggested. Farningham might seem prima facie to add another to this unexpectedly small class; but there is no known tribe of Farnings, and the old name was Fremyngham (again with no tribe name to support it). It has been suggested that it derives from the A.S. Frem or foreign, and denotes a settlement of foreigners (possibly Danes) coming from the Thames up the Darenth valley.
In the second division we might place any hams recording the personal names of those who founded them. Here Isaac Taylor may err in saying: “In the Anglo-Saxon charters we frequently find this suffix united with the names of families—never with those of individuals.” In this he follows Leo in his Anglo Saxon Names. And yet on another page (compare p. 331 with p. 131) he gives a list of places derived from the names of individuals. But certainly Godmersham and Rodmersham suggest personal names, and no one has ascribed any other origin to Harrietsham, which, even down to the fifteenth century, appears as Heryotesham. In one probably illiterate will of 1594 it is called “Henry Etisham alias Harrysam,” the latter being no doubt the vernacular pronunciation. So surely Meopham is Mepa’s Home. No letter o appeared in the name before or during the 14th century, when Simon de Mepham was Archbishop of Canterbury. It is a modern intrusion, left unpronounced. Icelham, McClure gives as meaning the Home of Icel, like Icelsham in Sussex, thus contravening the dictum of Taylor and Leo as to personal names. So Offham, and probably Otham, is said by the learned Sussex Place-Names to be named after King Offa, who had such power and made such great benefactions to the Church in Sussex and Kent. Finglesham, called Flenguessa in Domesday and Fengesham in 1206, suggests a person rather than a family when the common ing is not then found in the name, and so does Wittersham, especially in its old forms of Westricheshamme and Witrychesham. Faversham was Febres-ham in 811 (Charters and Rolls), and Febresham in 858. In Domesday (1086) it appears as Faversham, and as to this McClure, a great recent authority in Saxon, says: “The first element is a personal name in the genitive.” As, however, there seems to be no similar Saxon designation, he suggests a possible survival of the Latin Faber, i.e., Smith, in a thoroughly Latinized part of Kent. But this pre-supposes that the place was named from a single unnamed operative. Betsham is obscure, but when we find, also in Kent, Betshurst and Betteshanger, a personal origin seems likely. As McClure says, our Luddesdown seems to involve a personal name; he might say the same of Luddenham.
The third division introduces us to settlements or homes named from their environment or situation. Thus Higham (Heahhaam in a charter of 770, and Hehham in one of 774), is plainly from the A.S. Heah, whence our High; and so is Hougham (earlier Hugham), near Dover. Burham is the fortified place or Burh, found in 1498 as Borowham, in 1511 as Borougham, and in 1549 in its present form. Homes between Rochester and Aylesford had to be strong in the days and the place of constant maraudings and wars. Mersham is the Mersc home in Romney Marsh. Westerham, of old Ostreham (compare Westenhanger alias Ostringhanger) is the little white “home in the west” of Kent. Ickham—Ioccham in a charter of 785, in Andrededa—otherwise Yeckham, is probably the settlement on the yoke of arable land, from the Saxon measure Yeok. Chartham (Certeham in Domesday) is the home in the forest, chart and hart being varying forms of the Teutonic word for forest, the former more common in England, the latter in Germany. Perhamsted, says McClure, is the homestead where pears were cultivated. Thornham (though Turnham in Domesday) is said to derive from Hawthorns, Thynne being Saxon for thorn, and haegathorn later for hedge-thorn—whence also probably our Kentish Eythorne (anciently Hegythe Thorne), and Eyhorne (Haythorne in Plea of Henry III.), as place-names. Weald, Wold, Wald, and Wood (A.S., Wudu and Weald), all mean woods, so that we can understand our Wouldham and Waltham. Lenham must be the settlement of the Len, unless it could be proved that the river ever had another name, Celtic as it probably is.
The following is a full list of the “Hams” in Kent according to Kelly’s Directory of Kent, and I have extracted them in the hope that it may save some trouble to a future writer on our place-names. I am not of the class of those who say: “Posterity has done nothing for me, so why should I do anything for posterity?”
Adisham, Alkham, Barham, Bagham, Beckenham, Burham, Bentham, Betsham, Bayham, Cudham, Cobham, Clapham, Chatham, Chartham, Chilham, Crowdleham, Crockham, Dagenham, Eltham, Elham, Fawkham, Faversham, Farningham, Finglesham, Frogham, Godmersham, Gillingham, Ham ponds, Ham Green (two), Ham Hill, Ham Street, Heverham, Ham, Harrietsham, Hougham, Higham, Horsham, Ickham, Ightham, Lenham, Luddenham, Lossenham, Meopham, Mersham, Mongeham, Mottingham, Newnham, Offham, Otham, Otterham, Petham, Peckham, Rayham, Rainham, Rodmersham, Sydenham, Shoreham, Teynham, Thornham, Waltham, Waterham, Wetham, Wickham, Wickhambreux, Westerham, Wrotham, Wingham, Wittersham, Wouldham, Yaldham. Kilburne wrote that there were 49, but here I enumerate 71, and one might add Perhamsted, Iselham, Freckenham, Mistelham, and the Hundreds of Kinghamford and Downhamford, making 77, all of undoubtedly Saxon origin.
Our “Soles,” “Burys,” and “Hithes.”
The word Sole occurs frequently as a Kentish place-name, and is purely Saxon. Dr. Bosworth’s Anglo-Saxon Dictionary gives Sol as meaning “soil—dirt—a wallowing place”; while Lewis defines it as “a dirty pond of standing water.” The Saxon verb is Sylian, “to soil or cover with mud.” So an old Kentish will has the words “beside the wateringe sole in trend (i.e., the end) of Yckhame streete.” Now, as the chief industries of the Saxons in Kent were pigs and pots—as now they are bricks and beer—it is obvious that pigs, especially in clay soil, would create many wallowing places. So we find Sole Street, near Broadstairs (now corrupted into Sorvell and so made unmeaning and unintelligible), another by Cobham, another by Crundale, and another by Selling. We find also Bradsole (S. Radigund’s near Dover), Buttsole in Eastry, Blacksole at Wrotham, Maidensole, Longsole Heath by Allington, Thewsole, and Hangmansole in Romney Marsh, Eastsole, Newsole near Coldred, Esole near Nonington, Podsole near Headcorn, a Mote-sole Street in Sandwich, Mudshole by Hawkinge, Barnsole Lane, Gillingham, Capel Sole, Barnsole in Staple, Westfield Sole in Boxley, Rigsol Road in Otterden, and last, but not least, Paddisole, or Padsole, at Maidstone.
Our “Burys.”
There are two Anglo-Saxon words which have to be distinguished—Beorh, like the German Berg, meaning a hill; and Buruh or Byrig, which comes later into the suffix Bury, which again later comes to be used for a division of Hundred or simply for a town. In the south of England we have most of the distinctively Saxon or Jutish Bury, while in the north we have the Anglian and Norse forms of Burgh, Brough, Borough, more common. And one must add, as a variant of the same word, Barrow, which in modern use we confine to a tumulus for the sepulture of a great warrior or leader. As these British camps were generally on high ground for observation and for defence, the ideas represented by Beorh and by Buruh would inevitably intertwine. The British and Saxon camps were no doubt numerous when we consider the centuries of marauders and invaders which kept our earliest forefathers in a constant fear. They were usually round or oblong, whereas the fewer and later camps or forts of the Romans were rectangular. Surrounded by a deep ditch, the earth of which was thrown up to make a wall, into them in troublous times were collected families and flocks, so that the transition of meaning from the Byrig or fort to the Borough or town was easy. Canterbury, for example, began as Cantwara-byrig, the fort of the folk of Kent, long before it developed into its most important borough or city. So, in another county, Glæstingaberig became Glastonbury.
In Kent we find Farnborough, Frindsbury, Wateringbury, Hildenborough, Pembury, Cobhambury, Southborough, Oldbury, Bigbury, Glassenbury, two Hawkenburies, Holborough, Howbury, Scadbury, Goodbury, Eastbury, Fallburie, Stockbury (where the ditch and bank had been supplemented by a palisade of stocks, the predecessor of our fathers’ cheveaux de frise in warlike defence), Binbury, Westborough (in Maidstone above and defending the Medway), Woodnesbury, Willesborough, Queenborough, Richborough, Bidborough, Marshborough, Statenborough, Tattlebury, Downbury, Hockenbury, Dunbury and Tatlingbury—a long list which predicates long years, or rather centuries, of fighting in defence, as much as my previous list of forestal names proves how much of Kent was covered with woods.