The history of this last-mentioned portion of the nation is
completely linked to that of the soil which they occupy. In remote
times, when the inhabitants of this plain were few and uncivilized,
the country formed but one immense morass, of which the chief
part was incessantly inundated and made sterile by the waters of
the sea. Pliny the naturalist, who visited the northern coasts,
has left us a picture of their state in his days. "There," says
he, "the ocean pours in its flood twice every day, and produces
a perpetual uncertainty whether the country may be considered as
a part of the continent or of the sea. The wretched inhabitants
take refuge on the sand-hills, or in little huts, which they
construct on the summits of lofty stakes, whose elevation is
conformable to that of the highest tides. When the sea rises,
they appear like navigators; when it retires, they seem as though
they had been shipwrecked. They subsist on the fish left by the
refluent waters, and which they catch in nets formed of rushes
or seaweed. Neither tree nor shrub is visible on these shores.
The drink of the people is rain-water, which they preserve with
great care; their fuel, a sort of turf, which they gather and
form with the hand. And yet these unfortunate beings dare to
complain against their fate, when they fall under the power and
are incorporated with the empire of Rome!"

The picture of poverty and suffering which this passage presents
is heightened when joined to a description of the country. The
coasts consisted only of sand-banks or slime, alternately overflowed
or left imperfectly dry. A little further inland, trees were
to be found, but on a soil so marshy that an inundation or a
tempest threw down whole forests, such as are still at times
discovered at either eight or ten feet depth below the surface.