CHAPTER II.

In our wild and thorny region of the North a brave and toilsome peasantry have long been engaged in victorious conflict with the barren sleep to which nature seemed to have condemned the soil.  They have stirred up the sterile depths and watered them with their sweat; they have summoned science and industry to their aid, drained marshes, diverted the streamlets that descended toward the Meuse from the highlands and put them in circulation through innumerable arteries to fatten and enrich the land.  What a glorious fight it was of man against matter!  What a magnificent triumph it has been to convert the unthrifty Campine[A] into a fruitful and luxurious region!  Indeed, our descendants will hardly believe their own eyes when in future times they shall behold grass-covered plains, flowery meadows, and fields waving with grain, where the lingering patriarchs of our day may point out the sites of burning sand-pits and barren moors!

[Footnote A:  The Flemings have given the name of Campine to the vast uncultivated spaces extending in the north of Belgium from the vicinity of Antwerp to Venloo.  The improvement of the Campine, undertaken on a large scale within some years, has already produced the happiest results.]

North of the city of Antwerp, toward the frontiers of Holland, there are but few traces of this gradual improvement.  It is only along highroads that the traveller begins to observe the effect of liberal agriculture on the sandy soil, while, farther on toward the heart of the region, every thing is still bare and uncultivated.  As far as the eye can penetrate, nothing is to be seen in that quarter but arid plains thinly covered with stunted vegetation, while the horizon is bounded by that blue and cloudy line which always marks the limit of a desert.  Yet, as we journey over these vast spaces, it is impossible not to observe, from time to time, that a clear and slender rivulet meanders here and there over the moor, and that its verdant banks are studded with vigorous plants and thrifty trees; while in many places the hardy sons of toil who took advantage of the neighboring water, have opened their lonely farms, built comfortable houses, and frequently gathered themselves together in neat and thrifty villages.

In one of these spots, where meadow-land and pasturage have made agriculture profitable, and by the side of an unfrequented road, there is a farm of considerable size and value.  The massive trees which spread their thick shade on every side attest that the spot has been occupied and cultivated for several generations.  Besides, the ditches which surround it, and the stone bridge that leads to the principal gate, justify the belief that the estate has some right to be considered a lordly demesne.  In the neighborhood it is known as GRINSELHOF.  The entire front of the property is covered by the homestead of the farmer, comprising