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Fifth Discipline The Art and Practice of The Learning Organization First Edition The PDF Download

The document appears to be a collection of links to various eBooks available for instant download, including titles related to legal ethics, innovation, and statistics. Additionally, it contains a lengthy discussion on the etymology of place names in Kent, England, detailing their Saxon origins and meanings. The text provides insights into the historical significance of these names and their connections to the landscape and culture of the region.

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different content
Hlinc, a slope, accounts for the Linch and Linchfield in Detling, 31
a cultivated slope at the foot of the Downs. More common in
Sussex. Golfers will recognise the word.

Hōh = a hough or heel of land, whence our Hundred of Hoo.

Hyrcg is our ridge, and names Eridge, and Colbridge, and Sundridge.

Hyll = our hill, partly names many places, Bosehill, Hinxhill, Maze
Hill, Ide Hill, etc.; but I think there are more in Sussex, where
Roberts enumerates forty-eight.

Mersc = march—whence Stodmarsh, Burmarsh, Mersham,


Westmarsh, Marshton.

Ofer and Ora are difficult to distinguish in use, the former meaning
bank or shore and the latter bank of a stream. Bilnor and Oare may
come from the former, and Bicknor and Denover (on the Beult) from
the latter.

Ell, WIELL, WYLL, as a prefix, becomes our well.

Wudu = wood. So Saltwood is Sautwud in 1230.

Beorg = a hill, dative beorge, is easily confused with Burg = bush,


dative byrg, a fortified place, and then a city. From the former we
get our modern beogh, ber or barrow; from the latter our prefix Bur,
and the suffixes borough, burg, boro, and bury. The first syllable of
Bearsted may be either Beorg or Beorc, birch. Canterbury is the burg
or fortified city of the Cantwara or Kent-folk.
Hlu = a burial mound, developing later into the suffix low, lane, and
lew, may be found in Hadlow, and perhaps in the Hundreds of
Ryngelo and Cornilo in the Lathe of Borowart (now S. Augustine’s).

Considering the mainly forestal character of Saxon Kent, it is not


strange that many places are named from trees. Thus Ac = 32
oak, appears in Ockholt, Ackhanger, Ockley. Æsc in Ashford,
Ashhurst, and several Ashes. Our Nursted was Nutstede earlier.
Perhaps to Ac also we may refer Hocker’s Lane in Detling as a prefix
to another Saxon word, ofer, a shore or bring, though it may also be
but a corruption of Oakham. In numerous place-names, especially
those derived from trees, we find this suffix: Oakover (in
Derbyshire), Ashover, Haselover, Birchover, commonly shortened into
Oaker, Asher, Hasler, and Bircher. So the lane near the oak-tree or
oak-wood would be Oakover Lane, Oaker or Ocker Lane, and
eventually Hocker’s Lane. With but one cottage in it, I can find no
tradition or trace of any personal name from which it might be
called.

Apuldor, as for appletree, remains in Appledore; Birce or beorc,


perhaps in Bearsted, Birchington (?), Bekehurst.

Box, or byxe (derived from the Latin buxus) names many places, and
early forms in Bex, Bix, Bux, are found both as to Boxley and Bexley,
as with Boxhill and Bexhill in other counties.

Holegn = holen, adj. of holly, survives in Hollingbourne and


Holborough; Per (pear) in Perhamstead; Cherry in Cheriton; Plum in
Plumstead; Elm in Elmley, Elmstone, Elmstead, but only the wych-
elm was indigenous, and called Wice by the Saxons. Thorn we find in
Thornham.
Haga, a Saxon name survives in our Hawthorn, and may help us to
understand the meaning of Eythorne, near Dover, and the Hundred
of Eyhorne, in which Detling is situated. The early name of Eythorne
is Hegythorne, i.e., Hawthorn, and the Hundred of Eythorde or
Eyhorne (so from 1347 A.D.) might well be the same, and named
from the hamlet of Iron Street is Hollingbourne, where Iron is 33
plainly a late corruption of an old word.

The Rev. E. McClure, in his British Place-Names, gives (p. 207 et


seqq.) a list of words in old Saxon glossaries, ranging from the 7th
to the 9th centuries, which appear in British place-names. I extract
those which seem to apply to place-names in Kent.

Bodan = bottom, common in Kent for a narrow valley, e.g., East


Bottom at Kingsdown, near Walmer.

Hœgu-thorn = hedge-thorn, hawthorn, whence our Eythorne


(anciently Hegythe Thorne), Hundred of Eyhorne (Haythorn, temp.
Henry III.), and Iron Street, a hamlet in Hollingbourne in that
Hundred.

Mapuldur = maple-tree, in our Maplescombe, i.e., the bowl-shaped


valley where maples abound.

Holegn = holly. Our Hollingbourne, and perhaps Hollandon.

Holt-hona = woodcock, or more exactly woodhen, like moorhen.


Worhona is Saxon for pheasant. So our Henhurst, Henwood, and
Hengrove are the same.
Boece = beech. So our Mark Beech and Bough Beech, near
Chiddingstone. This derivation is also one of those suggested for
Bearsted, whereof the Saxon name is Beorhham-stede, and the first
syllable would be either Beorg-hill or Beorc-beech.

Goss = furze. Gorsley Wood, in Bishopsbourne.

Fleota = estuary or creek. Our Northfleet, Southfleet, Ebbsfleet, and


Mearesflete, and Flete.

Haesl = hazel. Hazelwood Hill, in Boughton Malherbe.

34
Beber = beaver. Beavers flourished in England even in historical
times, and gave their name to Beverley, Beaverbrook, etc. May
Beaver, near Ashford, derive thus? And the Beverley at Canterbury?

Pearroc = literally a grating—a place fenced in for deer, etc. So Park


and Paddock. Paddock Wood.

Hreed = reed. Our Reedham possibly; but it is not on marshy


ground.

Hythae = a harbour. Our Hythe, Greenhythe, New Hythe (East


Malling), Small Hythe (Tenterden), West Hythe, and Erith (Erehithe—
the old landing-place for Lesnes Abbey on the Thames).

Thyrne = thorn. Our Thornham.

Cisil = gravel. Our Chislehurst (Cyselhurst in 973), or gravelly wood.


Cnol = hill-top, as in Knowle, Knowle Hill (in Boughton Malherbe),
and Knowlton.

Beyr = shed, cottage. Dr. Sweet makes it the same as Bur (modern
Bower). Hence perhaps our Burham and Burmarsh; but the old
forms of Burham would point rather to Borow or Borough—the
walled settlement.

Aesc = ash. Our Ash, Ashenden, Ashford, Ashley, and Ashurst.

Hlep = leap. Hence Hartlip, of old Hertelepe. There are two places
thus named.

Pirge = pear tree. Possibly Perrywood and Perry Street. And


Perhamstede according to authorities.

Plum-treu = plum tree. Hence Plumstead—and Plumpton?

Faerh = a young pig, whence our word “farrow.” Considering that the
rearing of swine was the chief occupation in the dens, I wonder that
no one has suggested this word for the first syllable of Farleigh and
Fairlight.

35
Brycg = bridge. The Saxon had the word, but not many
bridges. Most of our eleven place-names in Kent containing this
word are of post-Saxon date, while we have fifteen “fords.”

Sae = sea. So our Seasalter and Seabrook.


Aac = oak. We have Ackholt, Acol, Acryse, Oakhurst, Oakley, and
Ockholt (now Knockholt).

Elm, borrowed from the Latin Ulmus. The Witch-elm, called Wice in
Saxon, is indigenous, the other elm imported. We have Elmley,
Elmstead, and Elmstone.

Mistel = mistletoe (ta. fem.—tdig) may appear in Mistleham, near


Appledore.

Caelf = calf. The Saxon name for Challock was Caelf-loca-n, i.e.,
enclosed place for calves. The second syllable suggests the Latin
locus, but is the source of our English Lock, i.e., shut up. So the
locks on the river; and pounds for straying cattle are “lokes” in East
Anglia.

Pleg-huses = theatres (or recreation grounds). Our Plaistow and


Plaxtol.

Syla = wallowing place. So our numerous Soles, which I later


enumerate.

Dimhus and Dimhof = hiding or dark place. Our Dymchurch are


instances.

Crocc and Hweras are both Saxon for pots. Few know what pure
Saxon they use when they talk of crockery-ware. Pottery was always
a great industry from Sittingbourne to Sheppey, and the Romans
appreciated and extended it. This may account for our Crokham Hill,
Crockham, Crockhurst Street, and Crockshard.
Cocca, gen. plural = chickens. Cock St., Cockham Wood, Cockshill,
Coxheath, Cockadam Shaw, while in Detling we have Cock-hill,
Upper and Lower Cox Street. Some may, of course, be modern and
personal names; but I cannot so trace them.

36
Boley Hill, near Rochester, was undoubtedly a place of civic
importance in very early days. It was a Danish meeting place
corresponding to our shire-mote at Pennington Heath, and we may
best trace its name to a Danish word which we still use—the bole of
a tree. This is found in various parts of the Danish district of
Lincolnshire, and the reference may be to the hill with a famous tree
under which the court of the community was held. Trees, as well as
cromlechs or great stones, were common landmarks in Saxon times
—hence our various Stones in Kent. Others, however, consider it a
corruption of Beaulieu, a name given by the Templars to the sites of
their preceptories, and they instance a Boley or Bully Mead in East
London, which belonged to the Templars. And others, because of its
ancient legal associations, think it should be Bailey Hill, and refer us
to the Old Bailey in London.

Farleigh.—On a clear day from Detling Hill we can see, not only
Farleigh, near Maidstone, but Fairlight Church, near Hastings. In
Saxon days and documents these place-names were the same, and
so in Domesday (1086), each is Ferlega, the passage or fareing
through the pastures or leys, just as our modern Throwley is
Trulega, with the scribes’ variations in 12th century deeds of
Thruleghe, Trulleda, Trulea, Thrulege, and Trudlege. Fairlight,
therefore, is simply a modern corruption after a fashion which once
corrupted the name of Leigh, near Tonbridge, which I find written
Legh in 1435, Ligth in 1513, Lyghe in 1525, and Lyght in 1531. It
has been suggested that the first syllable may indicate a personal
name, Fær; but this seems less tenable.
Borstall, from the Anglo-Saxon Beorg, a hill, and stal, a dwelling (as
in Tunstall), means a path up a steep hill. So there is Borstall Hill
near Rochester, Bostall Hill near Woolwich, and Borstall Hill by
Whitstable. And I have noted a passage in White’s Selborne— 37
he made a path up the wooded steep hill near his vicarage
called the Hanger, and he writes: “Now the leaf is down, the Bostall
discovers itself in a faint, delicate line running up the Hanger.”

Eastry.—Lambarde thought this village was so named to distinguish


it from West-Rye, now called simply Rye, but the places are too far
apart, especially when the great forest of Anderida came between
them. McClure, our most recent authority on British place-names,
would refer it to the Rugii, a Continental clan from the Island of
Rugen in the Baltic, whom he finds represented in Sûthryge
(Surrey). So he would make the word East-ryge, and in a charter of
780 it is Eastrygena, and in another Eastryge. But amongst the
various early spellings is Eastereye, i.e., Eástoregg (No, not Easter
Egg!), the island of Eástor. In a will of 929, “Æthelnoth, the reeve to
Eastorege,” is mentioned. Now the next parish is Woodnesborough,
the town of Woden, the Saxon god. So here may well be, named at
the same time and by the same people, the name of Eástor, the
goddess of spring; while, as to its suffix, the centre of the village
stands higher than the rest, and is almost entirely surrounded by a
valley, though not now by water. Fewer greater authorities than
Professor Skeat are to be found, and he inclines to this
interpretation.

Folkestone.—Here we find several interpretations, the more modern


being the most absurd. Thus Phillipott suggests the town full of folk!
and Murray’s Handbook to Kent Fulke’s Town (whoever this Fulke
may have been)! Both, however, forgot that the final syllable is
always stane or stone, and not ton. Another imaginative worthy says
that its stone quarries were much used in the 13th and 14th
centuries, and belonged to the community, and so it was the Folks’
Stone! Folcland we know; Folcmote we know; but what is this? 38
The Anglo Saxon Chronicle says that Harold seized ships at
Folcesstane, and in Domesday it appears as Falchestan. Harris
simply Latinizes the name and calls it Lapis populi, the stone of the
people, and as in Ninnius (8th cent.) there is a reference in his
description of England to the “stone of inscription on the Gallic sea,”
which some would identify with Folkestone; he may be more right
than he knew.

Plaxtol, near Sevenoaks.—In many Kentish parishes (and elsewhere)


the name Pleystole or Playstool clings to a piece of land on which
miracle and other plays were acted when amusements had to be
mainly home-grown. So at Lynsted, Herbert Finch, in the sixth year
of Queen Elizabeth, bequeathed the “Playstall et Playstollcroft”
fields. A variant of the name we may find in Plaistow, by Bromley. So
in Selborne (Gilbert White’s renowned village) the Plestor is the old
playground. Would that in all villages, especially since the looting of
old commons, there might be a field thus consecrated to healthy
recreation.

Amongst the sources of enlightenment as to the meaning of our


place-names I have turned to the volume of the English Dialect
Society, which is on the Kentish Dialect and Provincialisms, and was
prepared by the Revs. W. D. Parish and W. F. Shaw. It does not
contain, as I have found, nearly all our local words, and not a few of
the words it does give are by any means peculiar to Kent. Still, it is
useful and interesting, and it may well be that some of our Kent
place-names are almost peculiar to Kent, especially as the
neighbouring counties of Sussex and Essex were populated by
Saxons, but Kent was populated by the Jutes, and no doubt their
common tongue had its tribal variations. I take from this dictionary
all the words which are illustrative of place-names.

39
Forstall = “a farm-yard before a house; a paddock near a farm
house; or the farm buildings.... As a local name, Forestalls seem to
have abounded in Kent.” Two instances are given; but I have noted
Broken Forestall, Buckley; Clare’s Forestall, Throwley; Mersham
Forstall; Forstall Farm, Egerton; The Forstall, Hunton; Preston
Forstall, Wingham; Painter’s Forestall, Ospringe; Hunter’s Forstall,
Herne; Fostal, Herne Hill; Forstall, Lenham; Forstall, Aylesford;
Shepherd’s Forstall, Sheldwich—and no doubt there are more.

Tye.—“An extensive common pasture, such as Waldershare Tie and


Old Wives’ Lees Tie, and in a document of 1510, a croft called
Wolves’ Tie.” I would add the places called Olantigh, one near Wye
and another near Fordwich. Teig-r is really a Norse word meaning a
piece of grassland, and when borrowed or used by the Saxons it
became Tigar, Tig and Tey in such place-names as Mark’s Tey.

Yokelet.—“An old name in Kent for a little farm or manor.” Cake’s


Yoke is the name of a farm in Crundale. The yoke was a measure of
land, probably such as one yoke of oxen could plough. Thus it
corresponds to the Latin jugum, which means a yoke, and also a
land measure. We have also West Yoke in Ash-next-Ridley; Yoklet, a
borough in Waltham; land so named in Saltwood; and Ickham was
of old Yeckham or Ioccham, from the A.S. yeok, a yoke of arable
land. Iocclet is also given in the dictionary as a Kenticism for a small
farm.

Bodge.—“A measure of corn, about a bushel.” May this suggest a


derivation for Bodgebury, some land with a cottage thereon, part of
the old glebe of Detling?

Brent.—“The Middle-English word Brent most commonly meant


burnt; but there was another Brent, an adjective which signified
steep.” Thus Brentwood in Essex is the same as Burnt Wood in
Detling, but the Brents or North Preston near Faversham, and 40
the Brent Gate therein refer to the steep contour of the land.
A Celtic root, found in Welsh as bryn, a ridge, accounts for many
such names as Brendon Hill, Birwood Forest, Brandon, a ridge in
Essex, Breandown near Weston-super-Mare, and many Swiss and
German names for steep places.

Court, or Court Lodge.—“The manor house, where the court leet of


the manor is held.” So in Detling we have East Court and West Court
because, in default of a son, the old manor was divided between two
co-heiresses in the 16th century. So we have as place-names North
Court in Eastling, a Court at Street in Lympne, besides very many
names of old houses, such as Eastry Court, Selling Court, etc.

Down.—“A piece of high open ground, not peculiar to Kent, but


perhaps more used here than elsewhere. Thus we have Updown in
Eastry, Hartsdown and Northdown in Thanet, Leysdown in Sheppey,
and Barham Downs.” I may add Puttock’s Down (the Kite’s Down),
three villages called Kingsdown, Derry Downs, Downe,
Hackemdown, Harble Down, Housedown, Kilndown, two
Underdowns, besides probably some of the names ending in don.
The Celtic dun, a hill-fortress, found all over Europe, is directly found
in our Croydon, as in London, Dunstable, etc., and the Saxon
extended its use, especially in the plural, to high ground, whether
crowned with a fort or camp or not. Trevisa wrote in 1398 “A downe
is a lytel swellynge or aresynge (arising) of erthe passynge the
playne ground ... and not retchyng to hyghnesse of an hylle.”

Fright or Frith.—“A thin, scrubby wood.” So the Fright Woods near


Bedgebury. And I learned to skate as a boy at the Fright Farm on
Dover Castle Hill. This may account for Frith by Newnham, and
possibly also for Frittenden.
Polder.—“A marsh: a piece of boggy soil.” A place in Eastry 41
now called Felder land was of old Polder land, and nearer
Sandwich is a place still called Polders. Poll (Celtic), Pool (Early
English), Proll (Welsh), is a common prefix to the name of a brook.
Polhill, however, in Harrietsham, is more likely to come from the
great Kent family of the Polhills. So we have Polhill Farm in Detling,
and a Polhill was Vicar in 1779.

Rough.—“A small wood; any rough, woody place.” So Bushy Rough in


the Alkham Valley, where rises one of the sources of the river Dour.
Hence also Rough Hills in Hernhill; Rough Common near Canterbury;
and perhaps Roughway in Plaxtol, the wood being used in the
Kentish rather than the usual sense.

Saltings, or Salterns, or Salts.—“Salt marshes on the sea-side of the


sea-walls.” A North Kent word, naming Saltbox, and Salterns, both in
Sheppey, and probably Seasalter near Whitstable. We must find,
however, if we can, another derivation for Saltwood Castle.

Selynge.—Toll, custom, tribute. The Prior of Christ Church,


Canterbury, used to take in the Stoure a certain custom, which was
called Selynge, of every little boat which came to an anchor before
the mouth of the said Flete. The compilers of the Dictionary say:
“The parish of Sellindge, near Hythe, probably takes its name from
some such ancient payment.” Is it possible that the old name of
Sentlynge, given to S. Mary’s Cray in Domesday Book, may point to
another place of tolling craft on the Cray?

42
The Northmen in Kent.
A Furore Normanorum was a petition in an old litany in England
before it had gained that name. And with reason, for the success of
Angles, Jutes and Saxons in the conquest of England drew the
attention of Scandinavian and other Vikings, who found that booty
could be gained by rapid raids. It was at the end of the eighth
century that the Danes (as they came to be called, although the
wider “Northmen” would be a better term), reached the land of the
Angles, coming from Norway to Dorset, and generally harrying the
eastern and southern coasts for a couple of hundred years. They
also remained and settled, mainly to the north of the Humber, until
at last the greater part of England came under their power, and in
1016 Cnut became the Danish King of England.

Our forefathers in Kent should have our sympathy for the continuous
state of alarm in which they were kept. In 832 Scandinavian pirates
ravaged Sheppey. In 838 they won a battle in Merscware (i.e., the
land of the Marsh-folk, i.e., Romney Marsh), and slew many in
Canterbury. In 851 nine of their piratical ships were taken in battle at
Londovic (Sandwich) by Æthelstan, the under-king of Kent; but they
remained to winter in Thanet for the first time, and in the same year
350 of their ships entered the Thames and took both Cantwaraburg
and Lundenburg (London). In 853 the men of Kent, under the
Alderman Ealchere, with the men of Surrey, fought in Tenet
(Thanet), but were worsted. Next year they wintered in Sceap-ige
(Sheppey). In 865 the men of Kent tried to buy off the heathen
invaders, who, however, ravaged all East Kent.

Then arose the great man, Alfred, who in 871 had eight 43
battles with the Danes south of the Thames. In 885 they
besieged Hrofceastre (Rochester), but King Alfred relieved it, and the
Danes took to their ships, having lost all their horses. In 893 two
hundred and fifty Danish ships came to Limenemouth (Lympne),
took their fleet four miles up the river, and made a strong fort at
Apuldore, while Hasting with 80 ships entered the Thames estuary,
made a fort at Milton, and later one at Sceobyrig (Shoebury). In 969
Eadger orders Tenet land to be pillaged, and in 980 Thanet is
overrun by the Danes. In 986 the bishopric of Hrofceastre was
devastated. In 993 a fleet of nearly four hundred ships came to
“Stone,” which may be the one in the Isle of Oxney, or another near
Faversham on the Watling Street, or another on the Swale, and went
on to Sandwic, which was their chief southern haven, and embodies
in its name the Scandinavian wic or bay (Sandwic is a common
place-name in Iceland and Norway).

In 994 Anlaf, King of Norway, and Sweyn, King of Denmark, with a


fleet of nearly 500, failed to take London, but ravaged Kent and
other counties. In 998 they sailed up the Medway estuary to
Rochester, and there beat the Kentish army. In 1005 a fleet came to
Sandwic and despoiled the country.

In 1007 England despaired, and paid a tribute of £36,000, while


Thurkell’s army came to Sandwich and thence to Canterbury, where
the people of East Kent bought peace at the cost of £3,000, while
the Danes spent the winter in repairing their ships. In 1012 they
took Canterbury and martyred the Archbishop Ælfheah, better
known to us as S. Alphege. In 1013 Sweyn came again to Sandwich;
but in 1014 Eadmund (Edmund Etheling) attacked the Danes in
Kent, drove them into Sheppey, and met their leader in battle at
Æglesforda (Avlesford). But in 1016 Cnut (Canute) became King of
all England, and to him in 1018 £72,000 was paid in tribute.

In 1203 the body of S. Alphege was allowed by Cnut to be 44


taken to Canterbury, and England remained a Danish province.
In 1040 Harda-Cnut was brought from Bruges to succeed Harold as
King, and landed at Sandwich. In 1046 Thanet was ravaged again by
the Northmen; but in 1049 King Edward gathered a great fleet at
Sandwich against Sweyn, and later this fleet lay at Dærentamutha
(i.e., Darentmouth, i.e. Dartford). In 1051 King Edward’s brother-in-
law, Eustace, lost some followers in a fracas at Dofra (Dover).

But a great change was imminent, and England was to change one
domination for another, and in 1052 Wilhelm (afterwards the
Conqueror) visited King Edward the Confessor (or Saint) with a great
host of Normans, and he exiled Earl Godwin, who came from Bruges
to Nœsse (Dungeness) was driven back. Returning with his son
Harold to Dungeness, they took all the ships they could find at
Rumenea (Romney), Heda (Hythe), and Folcesstane. Thence to
Dofra and Sandwich, ending up with ravaging Sheppey and
Middeltun (Milton, near Sittingbourne). Then, in 1066, Harold dies in
battle at Hastings, and William begins our Norman dynasty,
Northmen being succeeded by Normans.

Traces of the visits to Kent are found in various place-names, though


more common in other parts of Britain, and indeed in other
countries, since as marauders, colonists, or conquerors they were for
three centuries the terror of Europe, from Iceland to Italy. The many
places with the suffixes byr or by, thorpe, throp, or trop, toft,
thwaite, ville in Normandy, or well and will in England, garth, beck,
haugh, with, tarn, dale, force, fell, are all almost exclusively northern
to Kent and mainly Norwegian. As to “by” for town, there are 600
north of the Thames and east of Watling Street, and hardly any in
the south. The one apparent exception in Kent—Horton Kirkby 45
—is no exception, for it was simply Horton until the time of
Edward the First, when Roger de Kirkby, from Lancashire, married a
Kentish heiress and the manor and place were re-named after him.

We have, however, certain records of their piratical visits, as at


Deptford and Fordwich, where the termination is not the Anglo-
Saxon ford, meaning a passage across a river, but the Norse fiord, a
roadstead for ships. Deptford is the deep fiord, where ships could
anchor close to the bank, and Fordwich, the smallest “limb” of the
Cinque Ports, was once the port of Canterbury on the Stour, and
gives us wic, the Norse for station for ships, a small creek or bay. So,
in Kent, we have also from the same source Wick in Romney Marsh,
Greenwich, Woolwich, and Sandwich. Inland, however, Wich or Wick,
is an Anglo-Saxon borrowing from the Latin vicus, and means houses
or a village.

Another Norse word in Kent is Ness or Naze, a nose or promontory,


such as Dungeness, Shoeburyness, Pepperness, Foulness, Shellness,
Sheerness, Sharpness Cliff at Dover, whence criminals were hurled,
Whiteness, Foreness, Bartlett Ness and Oakham Ness. The Nore, in
Kent, is the Norse, or perhaps Jutish, Nôr, a bay with a narrow
entrance, and the word is unique in Britain, unless we may find it
also in Normarsh, near Rainham. Again attributable to our invaders,
and again purely coastal, are the places ending in fliot, a small river
or creek, such as Northfleet, Southfleet, Ebbsfleet, with Purfleet on
the opposite bank of the Thames. Thanet and Sheppey were for us
their chief points of attack and their naval stations, while the
Danelagh or Kingdom whence the Norse element predominated had
the Wash as the chief entrance whence they radiated out.

The suffix “gate” may be either from the Saxon geat or the
Scandinavian gata, but when we find Ramsgate, Dargate, 46
Margate, Westgate, Kingsgate, Snargate, and Sandgate, all on
the coast, while in Romney Marsh “gut” takes the place of “gate,” as
in Jervis Kut, Clobesden Gut, and Denge Marsh Gut, we may incline
to a Scandinavian origin.

It is in the north, and the north only according to the best


authorities, that the suffix ing represents the Norse eng for grass-
land.
The Islands of Kent.
Most islands are attached portions of the nearest mainland, severed
in prehistoric times by subsidence of the intervening soil and the
action of strong currents. Thus even England is a portion of the
Continent, as its fauna and flora proclaim, while Ireland was severed
earlier still. Thus also the Isle of Wight is Hampshire. So our Kentish
islands, now only two and neither now to be effectually
circumnavigated, are practically absorbed in the mainland. “Sheppey,
Thanet—what else?” most would say. Yet the early geographer
Nennius, writing in the eighth century, has the following quaint
passage:—“The first marvel is the Lommon Marsh” (i.e., Limen, now
Romney), “for in it are 340 islands with men and women living on
them. It is girt by 340 rocks, and in every rock is an eagle’s nest,
and 340 rivers run into it, and there goes out of it into the sea but
one river, which is called the Lemn.” Truly a picturesque account of
the numerous spots, where dry land first appeared in the shallow
bay, and the countless sluices which intersected them.

“Romney” is probably formed by the addition of the Saxon Ige, By, or


Ea—island, to the earlier Celtic Ruim—marsh, and so gives an idea of
what the district was before the Romans reclaimed much by 47
building their great Rhee Wall. Certain names in Romney
Marsh preserved the same history. Oxeney (still we have the Island
and the Hundred of Oxney, containing Wittersham and Stone
parishes) is even now insulated by two branches of the Rother, and
here, in the ancient and now diverted channel, was found in 1824 an
oaken ship buried deep in sand and mud. Its name is said to mean
the isle of the fat beeves. On pagan altars discovered there oxen
were carved, and still it is a great cattle-raising district. We should
look now in vain for the three ferries by which it was once entered.
In its centre is Ebony, no doubt originally a sort of island, once called
“Ebeney in Oxney,” and in an early document it appears as Hibbene.
It has been suggested that the first part of the word is the old Celtic
Avon, i.e., water or river, and I find that a Saxon charter of 793 A.D.
calls the Gloucester Avon by the name of Aben. The third syllable is,
of course, the Saxon word for island. Scotney Court, Lydd, and
Scotney Castle, Lamberhurst, no doubt preserve the name of the
Barons de Scotini, who came from Scotigny in North France, and
possessed, in the 12th century, much land, which they held until the
reign of Edward the Third, while Scot’s Hall, near Smeeth, was the
seat of Knights of that name down to the time of the Armada. But
for this history one might have classed Scotney with Oxney and
Ebony.

Coming now to Sheppey, still an island, washed on the north by the


estuary of the Thames, on the west by that of the Medway, and
insulated by the Swale (Saxon Suala), crossed by a railway bridge
and two ferries, the Celtic name is said to have been Malata, from
Mohlt, a sheep, which the Saxon conquerors translated into Sceap-
ige, Sheep Isle. It includes Elmley and Harty, once its little islands,
and now peninsulas. An old name for Harty was Hertai, in 48
which we may perhaps find the Saxon Heorat—stag, hart—as
in Hartlip and Hartbourne, and ea—island. And Elmley, which island
would simply denote the ley or glade in the forest in which elms
were frequent, might here be Elm-isle. And another islet was Graven-
ea, the grain island, on the opposite side of the Swale, now in the
Faversham marshes.

Thanet, the best known and most important island, was in the 5th
century separated from the mainland by the Wantsum and the
estuary of the Stour, which gave an expanse of water mainly two
miles broad, so that vessels from or to London sailed from Reculver
to Richborough, and avoided the longer and rougher route round the
North Foreland. To guard this sea-way the Romans had placed their
forts of Regulbium (Reculver) and Rutupia (Richborough) at its
northern and eastern entrance. Now, and for long, by the dwindling
of the Stour and the practical extinction of the Wantsum, Thanet is
but in name an island. Even writing in 1570, Lambarde calls it a
peninsula. It is said that its Celtic name was Rimn—a headland, and
that its later Saxon name, Tenet, means a beacon. Solinus, who
wrote about A.D. 80, calls it Ad-Tanatos (Thanatos, Greek for Death,
because its soil killed snakes even when exported for that purpose!).
Nennius, in the 8th century, says Guorthigern handed to Hengist and
Horsa the island, “which in their language is called Tenet, but in
British speech Ruoihm,” or Ru-oichim. In a charter of 679 it appears
as Tenid. The name, says McClure, may involve the Celtic Tann for
oaks, as in Glastenec, an early form of Glastonbury, surviving in the
English, Tanner, Tanyard, etc. From this root is derived the Breton
place-name Tannouet. Tenid is its oldest Saxon form, and the Saxon
Chronicle records that in 969 Eadgar ordered Tenetland to be
pillaged.

49
Variations in the Spelling of Place-Names.
In the search for the meaning of a place-name it is necessary to go
back as far as possible and discover, if we can, its earliest form. The
Anglo Saxon Chronicle, and the later Domesday Book of 1086; the
gradual blending of Saxon and Norman into the English tongue; and
then the invention of printing; all may have had an effect on the
pronunciation, and so the spelling, of a word. Also there is the
tendency to shorten a long word, as when Pepingeberia becomes
Pembury, or Godwinston, through Gusseton, becomes Guston. And
before the standardization of spelling which printing to a great
extent effected, and in written documents such as charters or wills,
the most remarkable variations will occur according to personal
varieties of pronunciation. Even now, though every one reads “I am
going,” in one county you may hear “I’m a gowin’,” in another “I be
gooin’,” in another “I be gwaine,” and so forth, and so one wonders
less at the various forms in which a name appears in writing in
Saxon, in Norman, or in Early English days.

As a general rule the earliest form will be best and most likely to
indicate why a name was given. To illustrate this source, both of
information and of error, let me take two Kentish place-names—
Westenhanger and Tenterden—giving the dates at which I find the
various forms.

Westenhanger.—There is a Teutonic stem hanh which means to hang,


with the Anglo-Saxon later forms, Hôn, Hêng, from which we get our
place names of hanger, Ongar, etc. A hanger is a wood or copse
hanging on the side of a hill, and in Kent we find Betteshanger, 50
Hangherst, and Ackhanger, as well as Westenhanger,
concerning which Leland in his Itinerary writes of “Ostinhaungre ...
of sum now corruptly called Westenanger.” I find it spelled
Ostrynghangre in 1274 and 1291, Westynghangre in 1343,
Westingangre in 1346, Ostrynhangre in 1376 and 1381,
Estynghangre in 1383, Westynganger in 1385, Ostynhangre in 1409,
Ostrynghanger in 1468, Westinganger in 1472, Ostrynhanger in
1478, Westynghanger in 1511, Westhanger in 1519, and
Oystenhanger in 1541. The changes of the first syllable illustrate the
continuance of the Saxon Wœst and the Norman Ouest until there is
the reversion to the Saxon form in our West.

Tenterden, again, has a long list of variants. Probably its Saxon name
indicated the place where the Theinwarden, or Thane’s Warden or
Guardian, looked after the rights and dues of various other dens
where his swine had pannage and his tenants tended them. It is not
mentioned in Domesday, as not of sufficient importance or taxability;
but in 1190 I find it as Tentwarden, in 1252 as Thendwardenne and
Tentwardenn, in 1255 as Tentwardene—this early and probably
original form cropping up at intervals for another three hundred
years. But in 1259 we get nearer to the extant form, as Tendyrdenn.
In 1300 there is Tenterdenne, and in 1311 Tentredenne. From this
point I take the spellings from the Archbishop’s register of the
institutions of its parish priests, and here the earliest record is
Tenterdenne in 1311. Thenceforward Tent’denne and Tant’denn in
1322, Tentrdenn in 1327, Tenterdenne in 1333, Tentwardene in
1342, Tenterdenne in 1346, Tentwardyn in 1390, Tynterden in 1394,
Tent’den in 1404, Tenterden (for the first time exactly in its present
form) in 1407, Tendirden in 1436, Tentwarden at various dates from
1464 to 1531, Tentreden in 1501 and 1525, Tenterden in 1511,
1523, 1539, and 1546, “Tentwarden alias Tenterden” in 1541, 51
Tynterden in 1546, Tenterden in 1556, Tentwarden in 1560,
Tenterden in 1571 and 1615, Tentarden in 1619, Tendarden in 1626,
Tentarden in 1627 and 1636. Henceforth it is always Tenterden in
the Lambeth Registers. These variations are the more noticeable as
all occurring in one office, where one would have expected a settled
and continuously adopted form, whereas in such documents as wills
the testator, or even the scrivener who wrote the will, would have
only the current or the personal idea as to the right spelling of a
name.

Elsewhere I have given variations of the places we now know as


Edenbridge, Cuxton, Shepherdswell, Bethersden, Eastry, Throwley,
etc. One might add the cases of Freondesbyry (Saxon), Frandesberie
(Domesday), Frenesbery, and Frendesbury, for our Frindsbury; of
Estbarbrenge, Barmyage, Barmling, Barmelinge, and Berblinge, for
our Barming; Æpledure (Saxon), Apeldres (Domesday), Apoldre
(1381), Apeltre, Appledrau, and Appuldre, for our Appledore; of
Pœdlewrtha (Saxon), Pellesorde (Domesday), and Pallesford, for our
three Paddlesworths; Hertlepeshille (temp. Edw. II.), Herclepe,
Hertelepe, and Harclypp (1534), for our Hartlip; and Ok’olte (i.e.,
Oak Wood), Ocholte, Sud-Acholt, Scottesocholt, and Nokeholde, for
our Knockholt. The etymological advantage of going back is seen in
the case of Ringwould, which becomes more intelligible when down
to the time of Henry 3rd it was known as Ridelinwalde or
Rydelynewelde (i.e., the settlement of the clan of Ryddeling by the
wood), whereas not till 1476 do I find Ringeweld, and Ringewold in
1502.

52
Ecclesiastical Place-Names.
There are not so many as one would expect considering the
importance and power and the possessions of the Church in Kent.
Taking some as they occur to me, there are All Hallows, in Sheppey,
so named from the dedication of its church to All Saints’. The Latin
Sanctus and the Teutonic Helige are the same in meaning. So we
have, too, in Lower Halstow the Saxon helige stow—the holy place.
In a list of Jack Cade’s Kentish followers, in 1450, the parish of Omi
Scor is mentioned, which puzzled me for a moment until I saw it was
a contraction for Omnium Sanctorum, All Saints’.

The two Minsters, one in Thanet and one in Sheppey, both of Saxon
foundation, are the Latin Monasterium, found later as Moynstre and
then as Menstre. Monkton, earlier Moncstun and Monkynton, marks a
manor given A.D. 961 by Queen Eadgiva to the monks of the
community of Holy Trinity, which afterwards became the greater
Christ Church, Canterbury. There are also, for the same reasons,
Monks Horton and Monks Hill, by Herne Hill, in Blean. Bishopsbourne,
earlier Bishopstone, and Bishopsdenne, denotes an episcopal manor.
The old nucleus of Lydd was Bishopswic, and in Domesday Boughton
Malherbe appears as Boltone Archiepiscopi. Preston, near Wingham
(there is another by Aylesford, and a third near Faversham) is
Priest’s Town, and denotes a place where there was a small college
of clergy. That near Wingham is recorded in Domesday as
Prestetune, and in a fine of Edward II. we have: “Preston next
Wengham and Wykham Brewouse.” It belonged to S. Augustine’s
Abbey at Canterbury. S. Nicholas at Wade is named from the
dedication of the ancient church. At Wade represents the Latin Ad
Vadum, at the ford, over the Wantsum, into Thanet, near the 53
existing-bridge at Sarre.
S. Margaret’s Bay and S. Margaret’s at Cliffe retain their Norman
dedications. The church originally belonged to S. Martin’s Priory at
Dover. Lillechurch House, near Higham, marks the site of the old
Priory of Higham. The Hundred of Lesnes (A.S. leswes, pastures) is
the district once attached to the Augustinian Abbey (whence the
present name of Abbey Wood) founded in 1178 by the Chief Justice
and Regent Richard de Lucy.

Of the five parishes named from the river Cray two are named from
the patron saints of their churches. S. Mary Cray is, however, called
Sentlynge in Domesday Book. S. Paul’s Cray is a misnomer, since the
dedication is to S. Paulinus, Bishop of Rochester, and afterwards
Archbishop of York. So in a deed of 1291 I find it as Creypaulin, and
in a fine of Edward II., 1314, as Paulynescraye. In 1560, however, it
appears as Powle’s Crey.

Brenzett, in Romney Marsh, does not suggest in its present form


either a Celtic or a Saxon origin; but as its old church was dedicated
to S. Eanswith, a popular Saxon Saint, also commemorated in the S.
Mary and S. Eanswith of the original church at Folkestone, it has
been suggested that Brenzett has been evolved in process of time
out of Eanswith. Bresett and Brynsete (1416) are variants of the
place-name. There is also the parish of S. Mary in the Marsh hard by.
Newchurch, also in the Marsh, is Neucerce in Domesday (1036), but
as there is no Norman work in the church, which is of Early English
architecture, it is supposed that shortly before Domesday an older
church had been pulled down. Then and still it gives its name to the
Hundred of Newchurch in the Lathe of Limea or Limowart, which
was re-named Shepway in the time of Henry the Third. Also in the
Marsh is Dymchurch, earlier Demchurche. But earlier still it is 54
said to have been called simply Dimhus or Dimhof, which
would mean in Saxon the dark or hiding place; so that “church” may
be a later addition to an old name. Eastchurch, in Sheppey, was, and
is, the easternmost church in the island.
Place-Names from Persons.
We have seen how common in Kent are place-names derived from
patronymics of the name of a family or clan, such as Kennington, the
settlement of the Cennings, but there are others, mainly more
modern, which include the name of an individual, who usually would
be the lord of the manor. Thus some have imagined that Swingfield,
near Dover, is Sweyn’s Field, as if the Saxons would have named a
place after their piratical enemy. The older forms, Swonesfelde and
Swynefelde, would more naturally point to swine, the keeping of
which was the chief pastoral pursuit of the Saxons in the dens and
clearings of the forest. Queenborough, or Quinborowe, however
(earlier known as Bynnee), was named by Edward the Third (who
built a strong fort there) in honour of Queen Philippa in 1368.
Rosherville is very recent, being named after Jeremiah Rosher, lord of
the manor in the nineteenth century. Sutton Valence was Town Sutton
until 1265, when it became part of the possessions of William de
Valence, half-brother of Henry the Third.

Boughton Aluph—Bocton Anulphi in a charter of Edward the Second—


was the seat in the time of Henry the Seventh of the family of Aloff,
to which Wye belonged. Boughton Monchelsea (Bocton Chanesy in the
time of Edward the Second) owes its additional name to a 55
Norman noble; and Boughton Malherbe (another Bush-ton, or
town in the woods) was given as a manor to the Norman family of
Malherbe. Bethersden can be traced back to Norman times as
Beatrichesdenne, probably as held by an heiress of that name. So
Patrixbourne appears earliest as Bourne until a Patrick held the
manor. Capel le Ferne, near Dover, was originally Mauregge; but in
1175 the Capel family owned Capel’s Court in Ivychurch, and had
estates in several parts of Kent. In the fifteenth century it was called
sometimes S. Mary Marige and sometimes Capelle le farne, and in a
deed of 1511 it appears as “Capelferne or S. Mary Merge.”

Shepherdswell, near Dover, has nothing to do with a shepherd or a


well; but is an early corruption of Sibertswalt, as it appears in
Domesday, i.e., the wood of Sibert. The phonetic changes are found
in later charters and wills, Sybersysweld in 1474, Sybberdiswold
1484, Shipriswold 1501, Shepswold 1506, and Sheperterswold in
1522. Suabert, or Sieberht, was a great Saxon thane, and granted
land in Sturgeth (Sturry) and Bodesham to St. Domneva’s new
Minster in Thanet, while in a charter of 814 we read of Selebertineg-
lond. Great Chart was originally Selebert’s Chart. Sibbertston (or
Selebertston) was a sub-manor in Chilham, and there is still the
Hundred of Sebrittenden or Selebertsden in what was the old Lathe
of Wye.

Mongeham is probably Monyn’s Home, for the Monins family have


been there or near there since the time of Henry the Third, and are
there still. Goodneston, commonly called Guston, was no doubt
Godwinston, as in the territory of the great Earl Godwin, and we
trace its present name through the earlier forms Gounceston,
Goceston, Gusseton, to Guston. Another Goodnestone, near
Faversham, appears as Gudewynston in 1469 and Goodwinston in
1529. The Breux, of Wickham Breux, is another Norman addition 56
to a Saxon name.

Ebbsfleet, the so important landing place, first of Hengist and then of


S. Augustine, has, of course, been explained by ignorant guessers as
the place where the sea ebbs! But its earliest name to be traced is
Ypwine’s fliot, i.e., the creek where some Jute of that name settled.
Yp is probably the Eop in Eoppa, which is a common Saxon name,
also found as Eobba, so that Eobbe’s fleet easily becomes Ebbsfleet.
Upper Hardres may take us to the Norman family which came from
Ardres in Picardy, although it is possible to find a common Celtic
origin for the name both of the French and the English village in the
Celtic Ardd, that is, ploughland. It is Heg Hardres, i.e., High Hardies,
in early documents.

Horton Kirby was simply Horton until the reign of Edward III., when
a Lancashire Kirby married the heiress of the manor and rebuilt the
castle. Even in 1377 I find it still called Hortune only. Offham is Offa’s
home, and several places, including probably Otham, bear his name.
Here this Christian King of Mercia is said to have conquered Edmund
of Kent. So Old Romney was earlier Offeton, Effeton, or Affeton. Offa
ruled Sussex and Kent, and so we have Offham near Lewes,
Offington near Worthing, Offham near Arundel, and Ufton near
Tunstall. But the name of Offeton for Old Romney disappears after
1281. Foot’s Cray, and Footbury Hill near there, is named from
Godwin Fot the Saxon. Chelsfield is said to record the name of a
Saxon Ceol, a shortened form of Ceolmund, or Ceolbald, or Ceolwulf,
all of which were common names. Scotney Castle, Lamberhurst,
belonged in the 12th century to the Barons de Scoterni, who came
from Pontigny, in N. France. They had also Scotney Court, at Lydd.

One may add to these samples of places named from persons, two
or three that very probably take us back to mythical 57
personages. Woodnesborough (Wodenesbergh 1465, Wynsbergh
1496), was named by the Jutish conquerors after their god Woden,
whom they commemorated among the Teutonic names they
bequeathed to our names of the week. There is another
Woodnesborough in Wilts, and Wednesbury and Wednesfield in
Staffordshire. And we note that the next parish is Eastry. For the
name of this very old and important place in Saxon time various
derivations have been proposed, but it is more than possible that it
is the town of Eástor or Eostre, the goddess of Spring, whose name
survived when the conversion of the heathen Saxons gave a new
light to the festival in the Spring, which henceforth was to celebrate
a greater Resurrection than that merely of the flowers. And possibly
a third instance may be found in the name of Aylesford, which is
Egelesford in the Saxon Chronicle, and Elesford in Domesday.
Amongst various possible derivations that of Eigil, the Teutonic hero-
archer or demigod, is worthy of consideration, since it is found as
naming places elsewhere; for example, Aylesbury, in
Buckinghamshire, which in the Saxon Chronicle appears as
Ægelesburh.

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