-ham, -ingham, -ington, -ford.
Taking a break from the heady realms of spirituality, today’s offering is a look at some of the common suffixes in English place names.
-ham is a worn-down version of home, found in names like Stoneham (stone-home), Nottingham (home of the Snottings, the followers of a Saxon chieftan rather unfortunately named Snot), Framingham (originally Framlingham, home of the Framlings) etc. Waltham may also be one of these, but it also may be a clipping of Walthamstow, which is actually derived from the Old English Wilcumestowe (”place of welcome”).
-ingham or -ington is a combination of -ham or -ton (town) with -ing, which means a group of people, as in the Snottings and Framlings mentioned above. Arlington similarly comes from Hygeredingtun (town of the people of Hygered) (-> Harlington -> Arlington); and Lexington presumably has the same kind of origin, although I haven’t been able to verify that. However, there are certainly exceptions: Islington comes from Giseldone, “Gisla’s hill” (done is originally Celtic and is related to down and dune); it mutated thusly: Giseldone -> Gislandune -> Isladon -> Islington.
-ford refers to a set of stones or other material built up in a river to allow passage when there is no bridge. Naturally, it’s the perfect place for a town to be built. Westford, for example, simply means “west ford”; and Oxford, “ford for oxen”. The -ford in Bedford refers to a ford over the river Great Ouse in England, though I haven’t been able to find out what the “Bed” refers to.
The phonosemantics of -ford are particularly interesting. -ford is usually pronounced “frd” in American English, with a syllabic “r”, which handily indicates the free, powerful energy (”r”) of a river directed through a doorway (”d”) (and notice the same r-d pairing in bridge!); but in the dialect of New England, and many other English dialects, the “r” is swallowed and -ford is pronounced closer to “fud” or “fid”, which retains the sense of restricted freedom, but instead of raw power, the energy is much more relaxed (in the case of “u”), or light and tense (in the case of “i”). Not all rivers have to be raging, I suppose.
Thanks to Nio for suggesting these words of the day!
July 2nd, 2007 at 2:34 pm
Well, lookey there. Very interesting.
What I find amusing is I drive a Ford, but I’m from Bedfid. There are those who call it “Beffa,” thinking it should be pronounced like Medford (”Meffa”, although I say “Medfid”), but those of us from Bedford will correct anyone who says “Beffa” because we don’t want to be associated with Medford (Bedford snobbishness to be quite honest). And, many of us who grew up in Bedfid call it Bedrock, as in the Flintstones.
Now the question is, is Billerica pronounced “Bill-er-ic-a” or “Bill Rica”? (we say the latter) Similarly, is it Hav-er-hill (short a, three syllables) or “Have-rill” (long a, two syllables).
Thanks for clearing up a mystery for me!
July 3rd, 2007 at 7:24 am
Yes, you wouldn’t say you drive a Fid, would you?
(That’s because in “Ford”, the ‘ford’ is the primary stressed syllable, so all its sounds get pronounced more carefully and distinctly. In “Bedford”, ‘ford’ gets no stress, so it gets mumbled and compressed. Don’t imagine that means people are lazy and don’t pronounce their words carefully enough — that’s just part of how English works.)
According to Wikipedia, Billerica is definitely pronounced Bill Rica. It’s named after a town in England, Billericay, which (nowadays at least) is pronounced Bill-er-ik-ee. But I don’t know where that name comes from. Haverhill is named after the town of Haverhill in England, which is also pronounced Hay-vrill; again, I don’t know why.
Man, I love this stuff!
July 3rd, 2007 at 11:50 am
Bedford, and the surrounding communities, was a farm community which was suburbanized post-WWII. Many of those I knew as a kid grew up in Bedrock, but their parents were from elsewhere, generally Boston or one of its urban neighbors (white flight after Brown v. Board of Education). Thus, there was always discussion on how to say Billerica (Bedford’s neighbor). Those from outside Bedford say it “Bill-er-ica” while those of us who grew up there say “Bill Rica.”
I had no idea there was another way to say Haverhill until I moved to Florida (for two whole months). People kept giving me directions off of Haverhill Street, which I could never find. Turns out, their pronunciation is what had me so confused: I would ask where “Have-rill” street was and they would wonder what the f–k I was talking about.
And no, I don’t say I drive a Fid. But maybe I should to be consistent.
Oh, and it’s Concid, not Con-cord. They say it wrong on West Wing.
July 5th, 2007 at 4:11 am
No, don’t try to be consistent! You already are!
Bear with me as I try to explain.
English has stressed and unstressed syllables, right? In Bedford and Concord, the first syllable is stressed, and the second syllable is not. In Ford, there’s only one syllable, and it’s stressed.
English has a rule — has always, for a thousand years, had a rule — that unstressed syllables are “reduced”; that is, their sounds are less distinct, less carefully pronounced. This is a Good Thing — it helps distinguish the two kinds of syllables, and is part of what gives English its distinctive, slow, rolling rhythm.
Even those of us who don’t pronounce Concord and Bedford properly DO reduce the sounds of -cord and -ford, just not as much. We pronounce them rather like KON-krd, BED-frd. (Notice the missing ‘o’.) But the correct way to pronounce them takes the reduction further, reducing the ‘r’ to ‘i’ or ‘uh’ (which is as reduced as you can get).
As for Ford, you wouldn’t reduce that syllable, since it’s the only one in the word, and it’s primary and stressed.
Does that make sense?…