Native names of streets in Singapore

H. T. Haughton published this street-name reference in the Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society in 1891, documenting the vernacular Chinese (Hokkien) and Tamil names for the English-named streets of colonial Singapore. The article functions as a practical toponymic key, revealing the layered ethnic geography of the island’s urban core as it stood in the early 1890s.

Summary

Haughton’s article is a systematic, street-by-street catalog that pairs each English street name with its Chinese and Tamil equivalents, providing romanized renderings and English glosses. The Chinese names are given specifically as pronounced by the Hokkien community, a deliberate choice that reflects the dominance of Hokkien speakers in Singapore’s commercial life. The Tamil names, for which Haughton acknowledges his friend J. O. Anthonisz, and the Chinese names, prepared by Li A Sik and Tan Tiang Siong, together paint a picture of a city whose physical landscape was understood and navigated through multiple linguistic and cultural lenses simultaneously.

The article’s real value lies not in the names themselves but in the explanatory glosses, which encode a wealth of information about the economic, social, and institutional geography of 1890s Singapore. Streets are identified by the trades concentrated there (iron-smiths, cabinetmakers, potters, dhobies, milk shops), by the institutions that anchored them (the Supreme Court, the old jail, the ice factory, the gasometer), by the kongsi and secret society meeting-houses that occupied them, and by the topographical features that defined them (wells, streams, the old canal, the suspension bridge). The recurring distinction between “Sio Po” (Small Singapore, i.e., Kampong Glam) and “Twa Po” (Big Singapore, across the river) reveals how the Chinese community itself partitioned the island’s urban space into meaningful zones.

The article also captures a city in transition. References to the “old market” versus the “new market,” the “old jail” versus its replacement, the “old Hailam meeting-house” versus its successor, and the suppressed Thien Thi Hoi branches all mark the rapid modernization and administrative reorganization of Singapore during the 1880s and 1890s. The native names thus serve as a kind of palimpsest, preserving memory of a landscape that was being actively remade.

Key Findings

Boat Quay carried at least five distinct Chinese names simultaneously (Tiam Pang Lo Thau, Chap Sa Hang, Chap Poet Keng, Chwi Chu Boi, Khoi Ki), illustrating the fluidity and locality of vernacular toponymy (p. 52).
The “iron market” (Thi Pa Sat) referred specifically to Clyde Terrace Market, a major retail hub heavily patronized by Bugis traders; its Tamil name was Irumpu Pasar (p. 53, 63).
The Thien Thi Hoi (Heavenly Righteous and Harmonious Fellowship) maintained its chief meeting house in Lavender Street and its Keh branch in Nankin Street; both are explicitly noted as “suppressed along with the other dangerous societies” (pp. 57, 58).
The “Rumah Panjang” (Lo Ma Pan Jiang) was the old atap building in Rochor Road where the demi-monde resided before Fraser Street was built, linking the street’s name to a specific social institution (p. 54).
The Tamil name for the Esplanade, “January Thidal,” derives from sports held on 1 January, while the Tamil name for Dhoby Ghaut, “Vannan Theruvu,” simply means “street of the dhobies” (p. 63).
The Chinese term “Tho Kho” for godown literally translates as “earth treasury,” and “Kha Ku” for the old jail literally means “ankle chains,” revealing the etymological logic behind otherwise opaque commercial and institutional terms (pp. 51, 52).

Conclusion

Haughton’s article is best understood as a colonial administrative reference designed to help English-speaking officials and residents navigate a city whose streets were, in practice, named and understood in Chinese and Tamil. Its enduring significance is as a snapshot of Singapore’s multi-ethnic urban ecology at a moment of rapid transformation, preserving vernacular names and the institutional memories they encoded before further modernization rendered them obsolete.

Context

Haughton was a colonial official in Singapore; the article’s framing as a practical key for English speakers reflects the administrative needs of the Straits Settlements government rather than any scholarly toponymic methodology.
The article draws on the contributions of three named collaborators (Anthonisz for Tamil, Li A Sik and Tan Tiang Siong for Chinese), suggesting it was compiled through direct consultation with community members rather than archival research.