THE term “well” appears in several locations and village names in this region, but also in other parts of the country. The city of Wells is one example, but others include Wellsborough, Tunbridge Wells, Wells-next-the-Sea and Wellwood. The names are self-explanatory because they imply that a spring or well was, or still is, within the locality. A number of those wells have been flowing for many centuries.

In some cases, the wells bear names of saints – Hinderwell near Whitby is named after Whitby’s famous St Hilda, who is supposed to have blessed it more than 1,300 years ago. The Drumming Well is also known as St John’s Well at Harpham, in East Yorkshire, but this is the second well in the village. The first was a pond which has disappeared.

However, in this region there is another name for a well. It comes to us from the Norse invaders of the past and is “keld”. Keld Head is a pond on the western outskirts of Pickering, while the wilds of the upper reaches of Swaledale provide us with the Dales village of Keld, said to be the most isolated in England. With a name like that, it is not surprising that Keld is rich with waterfalls.

The name Keld also appears in smaller units such as Keldholme, Hallikeld Farm and Hallikeld View, but it was also used to indicate local parishes or wapentakes. The Halikeld Wapentake comprised several villages and localities dating to the 11th century when it was known as Halichelde, later becoming Halikeldshir (sic) in 1157, but in the Domesday Book was considered part of the West Riding of Yorkshire.

I have no record of how many ancient wells remain in use in this region, some perhaps being little more than springs of fresh water while others might have ornate stone surrounds and be named in honour of a local saint. This link with holiness arose because much of the drinking water of ancient times was fouled by human and animal waste which produced sickness and even death to those who drank it or washed in it.

Water emerging pure and clean from springs and wells was therefore believed to be blessed by God or the saints, hence many became known as haligkelds or hallikelds which means holy wells. The term Hallikeld remains in use today and is sometimes associated with parish areas or local authority divisions in the Dales. The name has its origins in the old Norse language once used in this country.

Many holy wells were named in honour of local saints. Lastingham’s two wells were named after Saints Cedd and Chad due to their association with a local monastery.

One of the two wells at Harpham, in East Yorkshire, is named in honour of St John of Beverley, while the Yorkshire Dales are rich with wells named after saints: including several Lady Wells in honour of the Blessed Virgin Mary, but also St Helen’s Wells, St Hilda’s Well and St John’s Well. There is St Margaret’s Well in Burnsall and St Bridget’s Well near Ripon. Some wells are named in honour other famous people such as Thor’s Well at Thorsgill or Kettlewell after Ketel, a Saxon nobleman.

Curiously, there are two wells named after St Alkelda, one in Middleham, in the former North Riding, and the other at Giggleswick, in the former West Riding of Yorkshire. In both cases, the parish churches are named after St Alkelda, the only two in this country with that name.

Keen-eyed readers will have noted that the word “keld” appears in this saint’s name, and likewise students of saints will know that no one of that name appears in the calendar of saints. There are suggestions that this name refers rather more to the well than to a genuine saint, perhaps deriving from halig kelda meaning holy well. Nonetheless, there is a legend about Alkelda.

The story is that she used to pray at Giggleswick well, formally known as the Ebbing and Flowing Well, and she was either baptised in its waters, or baptised others there. Another tale is that she was a mythical nymph who was turned into a spring.

Yet another story is that Alkelda was a Saxon princess who was strangled by the invading Danes.

Stories of this kind tend not to appear in formal written records and although nothing is known about Alkelda, her name does appear in the will of James Carr, who died in 1528. He expressed a wish to be buried (sic) in the church of Gigleswicke of the Holie and Blessed Virgin Saint Alkelda.