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.