Of the people of this district, it may be said that in their physical attributes they are the finest race in the British dominions. Their Scandinavian descent, their constant exposure to a highly oxygenised atmosphere, their hereditary passion for athletic sports and exercises, their happy temperament, their exemption from privation, and many other causes, have contributed to develop and maintain their physical pre-eminence, and to enable them to enjoy as pastime an amount of exposure and fatigue that few but they would willingly encounter. Thomas de Quincey, who lived thirty years among them, observed them very closely, and knew them, well, after remarking that "it is the lower classes that in every nation form the 'fundus' in which lies the national face, as well as the national character," says: "Each exists here in racy purity and integrity, not disturbed by alien inter-marriages, nor in the other by novelties of opinion, or other casual effects derived from education and reading." The same author says: "There you saw old men whose heads would have been studies for Guido; there you saw the most colossal and stately figures among the young men that England has to show; there the most beautiful young women. There it was that sometimes I saw a lovelier face than ever I shall see again." The eloquent opium-eater gave the strongest possible proof that his admiration was real by taking one of these "beautiful young women" to wife.
The men of our northern dales do not pay much respect to anyone who addresses them in language they are not accustomed to, nor do they make much allowance for ignorance of their own dialect. In a northern village we once stopped to speak to an old lady at her door, and began by remarking that the river was much swollen. "We call it a beck," said the old lady, turning her back upon us, and telling her granddaughter to bring out the scrapple. "Whatever may a scrapple be?" we asked, deferentially. "Why, that's what a scrapple may be," she said, indicating a coal-rake in the girl's hand. As we moved away, we overheard her say to a neighbour, "I don't know where he has been brought up. He calls th' beck a river, and doesn't know what a scrapple is!" They have a very quick sense of humour, and often practice a little mystification on inquisitive strangers. To a tourist who made the somewhat stupid inquiry, "Does it ever rain here?" the countrymen replied: "Why it donks, and it dozzles, and sometimes gives a bit of a snifter, but it ne'er comes in any girt pell," leaving the querist's stock of information very much as he found it.
The first invasion of the Danes took place in the year 787, and to Scotland they gave the name of "Sutherland," and the Hebrides were the southern islands, or "Sudreygar," a name which survives in the title of the Bishop of Sodor and Man.
The Forest of Rossendale contains eleven "vaccaries," or cow-pastures (we are told by Mr. H. C. March, M.D.), which were called "booths," from the huts of the shepherds and cowherds. From this we trace Cowpebooth, Bacopbooth, and Crawshawbooth. Booth is derived from the old Norse "bûd," a dwelling, while from "byr" and "boer" we get the surnames Byrom, Burton, Buerton, Bamber, Thornber. "Forseti" was the judge of one of the Norse deities, and the word supplies us with Fawcett, Facit, or Facid as it was spelt in 1781, and Foster. Unal was a Danish chief, whose name survives as a surname Neal, Niel, and O'Neil. From the old Norse "yarborg," an earthwork, we get Yarborough, Yerburgh, Sedburg, and Sedberg. Boundaries have always been matters of great importance, and "twistle" is a boundary betwixt farms. Endrod was King of Norway in 784, and his name furnishes Endr, whose boundary becomes Entwistle, and also Enderby. Rochdale is derived from "rockr," old Norse for rock, and dale from the Norse "daal," a wide valley; thus the Norsename Rochdale supplanted Celtic-Saxon name of "Rachdam." "Gamul," meaning old, was a common personal name among Norsemen. In a grant of land dated 1051, fifteen years before the Conquest, appears the name of Gouse Gamelson, which is a distinct Norse patronymic. Gambleside was one of the vaccaries or cow-pastures of Rossendale Forest, and was spelt Gambulside. In Anglo-Saxon and Teutonic dialects "ing" is a patronymic, as in Bruning, son of Brun, says Mr. Robert Ferguson, M.P., in his "Surnames as a Science." But it has also a wider sense. Thus, in Leamington it signifies the people of the Leam, on which river the place is situated. From a like origin comes the name of the Scandinavian Vikings, Vik-ing; the people from Vik, a bay. Sir J. Picton, in his "Ethnology of Wiltshire," says: "When the Saxons first invaded England they came in tribes, and families headed by their patriarchal leaders. Each tribe was called by its leader's name, with the termination 'ing,' signifying family. Where they settled they gave their patriarchal name to the mark, or central point round which they clustered."
Considering the great number of these names, amounting to over a thousand in England, and the manner in which they are dispersed, it is impossible to consider them as anything else than the everyday names of men. This large number will serve to give an idea of the very great extent to which place-names are formed from the names of men who founded the settlements. It must be remembered that the earlier date now generally assigned for the Teutonic settlements tends to give greater latitude to the inquiry as to the races by whom the settlements were made, as well as the fact that all our settlements were made in heathen times. From the neighbouring tribe of Picts we retain one form "pecthun," from which we derive the surnames of Picton, Peyton, and Paton. This may suggest that we owe the name peat to the same origin. We have also the word pictures, probably formed from "pict," and "heri," a warrior.