I found an interesting article written by William Stevenson in Volume 2 of the book Bygone Lincolnshire, 1891, carrying the title The Great Brass Welkyn of Boston. Clearly, Mr. Stevenson was as intrigued by curiosities as I am, and I borrow from his article extensively here.
On page 310 of Pishey Thompson's esteemed book The History and Antiquities of Boston, it is reported that in 1580, Lord Clynton borrowed from the corporation of Boston, their 'great brasse wellkyn'. What a 'brasse wellkyn' might be is genuinely intriguing. It is certainly not a word that is in general use today, and it isn't even a word that can be easily guessed. It is also intriguing why the corporation of Boston would own such a mysterious item. Yet, from 1580 (possibly much earlier) up to 1757, a period of 177 years, the Wellkyn was well-known in the town.
The next known record of the item was in 1657: 'A great brasse welkyn belonging to the borough, being now no longer useful to this borough, to be sold.' As is typical of local authorities, just 37 years later, the corporation realised it had need once more and, in 1694, gave John Sherlock £10 to buy a Wilking with at Nottingham. This respelled wilking was subsequently sold in 1757.
What is a Wellkyn?
According to Wiktionary, welkyn as a noun is the equivalent of the Middle English welken, meaning the atmosphere or the area of the sky where weather happens or perhaps even clouds. (welken - Wiktionary) The definition is expanded but essentially reiterated in the Middle English Compendium. (welken - Middle English Compendium (umich.edu)) This definition does not give us any further clues as to what the great brasse item may be or what it might be used for.
Thompson decided it was most likely that the term Wellkyn referred to a pile-driving device. He dismissed a couple of alternate definitions as unsatisfactory. He settled on this meaning, having found reference to the machine called a Wilkin used for inserting piles during the iron bridge construction in Boston in 1804.
The similarity of the words recorded over time in the same place leads to a logical assumption that the meaning is the same. The inconsistency of spelling - Wellkyn, Wilking, Wilkin - is not unusual.
The concern of Thompson writing from 1807 to 1856 and Stevenson writing in 1891 was that no other reference to the word Wellkyn could be found. Therefore, they were both guarded over the word's actual definition whilst accepting it was a pile driver. Stevenson even considered the word was exclusively used in Boston. What they did not know, however, is that the term can be found dating back to 1462. In Sources of London English: Medieval Thames Vocabulary, Laura White reported that 11 labourers worked drawing the Wilkyn Ramme to drive piles within the Bridgehouse Dock. Also, the Oxford English Dictionary carries the term Wilkin, "an apparatus used in driving piles," which is recorded in the Navy Records Society Volume VIII, Naval Accounts and Inventories of 1495 - "Rammes of Yron called Wylkyns". Clearly, the apparatus used to drive in piles was widely known as a Wilkin. The spelling obviously changed over time and with the author, but the meaning was likely the same.
However, it may be that two distinct words are being used. One is Wylkyn or Welkyn, and the other is Wilking or Wilkin. “Wylkyn rammers of iron” are recorded in an inventory of ordnance in the Tower of London in 1495. This is in reference, I assume, to canons. The rammer is the long tool, sometimes known as a ramrod, that pushes the canon ball and powder down the barrel.
Also in the inventory is “Wilkings of tree with 6 bars of iron and with 12 shevers of bronze”. I think this refers to a lifting apparatus of some sort. Presumably, it was used to move large guns or their load. “Wilkings of tree”, I assume, means that they are Wilkings made of wood. These Wilkings have six iron bars and twelve “shevers”. Shevers are probably sheaves, wheels with a groove for ropes to run in, as would be used in a pulley. So, a wooden Wilking with 12 sheaves on 6 bars would be a heavy lifting device that could easily move the great weight of large canons with little effort.
This suggests that the Wylkyn ram is the heavy weight for bashing things down, and the Wilking is the lifting apparatus used to lift and drop the Wylkyn. Both of these terms can be traced back to the 15th century and can be seen to be used for different things.
The definition of Wilkin, in Sources of London English, refers to labourers “drawing at the ghynne callyd the Wilkyn Ramme of Bras”. Ghynne I assume is a version of ingine or engine (machine). So they are pulling on the machine known as the Brass Wilkyn Ramme.
It seems impossible to separate the two terms. Was the ram known as a Wylkyn, and subsequently, the apparatus used to lift and drop it became synonymous. Or was the lifting apparatus known as a Wilking and the ram used for piling became synonymous? It will be impossible to tell without fully understanding the origins of the words.
The origin or etymology of the word is lost. Maybe it was named after a person. Wilkyn is suggested to be a diminutive form of William. Perhaps the tool, pounding the piles into the ground, was named after the Conqueror for its might and power. It could be named after a smith, the first to forge a Ram of the size needed to hammer in the piles. It may even be named after the thunderous sound it made when falling. Reminiscent of the sound of thunder that would come from a cloud (welken). Stevenson considered the word's etymology and that the meaning of cloud became applied to anything large or bulky. He claimed it was still used with this meaning in Lincolnshire, such as when applied to a large or bulky man - "a great welkin fellow". This may be the case, but it is certainly not a term used in modern times.
What did the Welkyn look like?
I shall recount Stevenson's description from 1891 as it is well narrated.
"It may be worthy of note that the ancient pile-driving apparatus was a sliding weight, suspended on a strong rope, such rope passing over a wheel at the top of the frame and hanging down the inside, where the lower end had numerous smaller ropes attached thereto, after the manner of a cat-o-nine-tails, each rope being in charge of a labouring man. The weight of the ram regulated the number of men, which usually ranged from twelve to twenty. The weight or ram was raised by the united action of these men pulling the ropes, the operation being accompanied by a song. This primitive appliance may still be found in Holland, and the writer has seen it in operation in the City of Stockholm."
Images from Driven Piles are Tested Piles. A presentation by the Pile Driving Contractors Association
Whether Welkyn referred to the ram or the entire apparatus is unclear. The OED definition of Wilkin uses the term apparatus, but the Boston records refer to a brass Welkyn. It may be that initially, the word referred to the weight or ram and, over time, became used for the total apparatus. It is improbable that the whole apparatus would be made of brass.
Resistance to Technological Innovation: The History of the Pile Driver through the 18th Century by Marjorie Nice Boyer Technology and Culture, Vol. 26, No. 1 (Jan., 1985), pp. 56-68 (13 pages)
Why Brass?
In the 19th century, at the time of Thompson and Stevenson, the rams of pile drivers were made from cast Iron. Iron has been made for millennia but was only introduced into Europe in the 1400s and England in the late 1400s. (The history of iron casting part 1 - The C.A. Lawton Co. (calawton.com)) At this time, blast furnaces were small, had limited capacity, and few had been established. There were abundant iron ore reserves, but the charcoal-fuelled furnaces could only produce low-quality, brittle pig iron. This position did not change until the 1700s when technological advances enabled mass production. So, the Boston Welkyn could not have been made of iron.
The only other viable alternatives apart from brass would be wood or stone. Wood is not heavy enough. Stone is a possibility and would have been used in the past, but it may not have been the most durable choice. Brass, however, is harder and heavier than iron and can be cast at lower temperatures. At the time, it was the optimum material choice for its manufacture.
We have yet to learn what the Welkyn looked like. A drawing or image may be found in the future. It likely looked functional, a bell shape, for example, or perhaps medieval designers made it beautiful and functional.
AI-generated images of a brass Welkyn.
What was the Brass Welkyn used for?
Again, returning to Stevenson's 1891 article:
"A considerable amount of piling was resorted to in the early history of Boston, such as the banking of the river, the forming of staiths, wharves, or landing stages, in which case the corporation would have a special use for pile-driving appliances, and might indulge in the cost of a great brass "Ram.""
Boston was proliferating as a port. The expansion would have required equivalent development of wharves and docking space. The town needed to be safe, so the banks needed shoring and landing stages. The earnings from import and export would have been precious to the town, and the communal purchase of tools to quickly build infrastructure was a very sensible decision.
The great brass Welkyn of Boston was a pile driver. It was undoubtedly considered great because of its size, but likely also because of what it enabled. The port of Boston became the country's second most significant, and the Great Brass Welkyn would have played an essential part in making that rapid growth possible.
The Welkin in the poetry of Jean Ingelow
I can only think of one famous poet from Boston, Jean Ingelow. That she was a native Bostonian makes it fascinating that the word Welkin appears in one of her poems, High tide on the coast of Lincolnshire.
The poem recounts a tale of terrible flooding and the loss of life. Whilst not specifically set in Boston, the river that bursts its banks is called the Lindis, a name that has been used for the Witham, and it is clearly intended to paint a picture of a Lincolnshire fenland landscape.
I am no poetry critic, so I cannot with any certainty explain the poem. A recurrent theme is the ringing bells that play out a special peal known as the Brides of Enderby, clarified as Mavis Enderby. But why the peal was named thus is not mentioned. Their ringing was to alert the population of the impending flood. In the stanza pictured above, "all the welkin rang again". I believe Ingelow is here again referring to the bells, calling out the Brides of Enderby, and using the word welkin in place of bells, which adds extra emphasis. The loud pounding and ringing of the brass welkin would have been known across the town of Boston—an incessant and compelling sound. Using welkin instead of bell would have had a significant meaning for Bostonians. The Welkin's link with the building of the river banks that were failing under duress from the "eygre" (eagre or tidal bore) is clear. "Bankes came downe with ruin and rout". The verses towards the end of the poem are quite dramatic. It is a wonderful way to link the importance of the welkin to the defence of land from the sea.
It should be noted that the corporation sold the welkin 80 years or so before Jean Ingelow wrote. That does not rule out the possibility of stories of the Great Brass Welkyn remaining in local lore until her time. The poem was written after the publication of Pishey Thompson's book, so the welkin still existed in popular culture and local memory.
Give it some Welly.
It occurred to me that the term "give it some welly" may originate from the Welkyn. The term welly is used to mean force or power, and therefore "give it some welly" encourages applying more power. Commonly, it would be used to urge a driver to go faster or a person to hit something harder. The Welkyn applied great force to the piles being driven into the ground.
Interestingly, the Word Histories blog says that the earliest mention the writer found is from the Conclusion of Lincolnshire Dialects (Richard Kay Publications – Boston, Lincolnshire, 1976) by George Edward Campion (1908-77). This is a very late date, but it is still interesting that the first mention found is in a Boston book on the Lincolnshire dialect, written by a teacher from my primary school.
The accepted origin of the term is that it refers to wellington boots (wellies). Therefore, putting your foot down on the accelerator makes some sense. However, the use is broader than just driving faster. Wellington boots don't make sense if encouraging someone to hit a nail harder, but hitting it like the Welkyn would make sense. It seems to be a very plausible explanation as to the origins of the phrase.
Could the word have originated in Boston? I guess we will never know for sure. It is clear that Welkyn was a term used widely, including in the Navy. So, give it some welly may have originated with any of the teams of men hauling on the ropes of the Wilking or those urging them on in their exertions. The fact that the Great Brass Welkyn of Boston is remembered in works of reference and poetry suggests it held a particular significance for the town. Perhaps, because of that, it is not unreasonable for Boston to claim the phrase for itself. It seems unlikely that the term only originated in the 1970s. The idiom may have only appeared in print then, but the oral history is surely much older.
A reference from before 1769, the birth of the 1st Duke of Wellington, is needed to confirm this hypothesis that "give it some welly" is not derived from Wellington boots.
Who was Lord Clynton?
Having confirmed what the Welkyn was, I became intrigued over who Lord Clynton was and why he might want to borrow the piling apparatus.
Lord Clinton (spelling correct) was Edward Clinton, 1st Earl of Lincoln, born in Scrivelsby. He was created Earl of Lincoln in 1572. 1st Earl is a little misleading as this was the sixth incarnation of the title. The very first Earl was William D'Aubigny, who was appointed in 1141. In addition, he was Lord High Admiral and served four of the Tudor monarchs, including Henry VIII and Elizabeth I.
Lord Clinton bought Tattershall Castle from Sir Henry Sidney, and it needed extensive restoration following years of decay. Therefore, the Earl may have borrowed the Welkyn to install piles at Tattershall.
Work in progress
As always, this story is a work in progress. It would be fabulous to find an image or more records of the great Welkyn of Boston or other references to the term elsewhere. Also, I shall now be looking for use of the term welly before the birth of Wellington. Check back for updates!
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