Whoever has been at Friedrichshafen on beautiful Lake Constance, on a clear August day, and watched the sun setting in splendor behind the tops of the beeches of Manzell; whoever has seen the waves of the lake and the snow-capped peaks of the Alps from Sentis to the Allgau Mountains glow in the crimson light, while the notes of the Ave Maria float softly over forest, meadow, and water, will treasure the memory of the peaceful scene throughout his whole life. To this region the story of little Bissula leads us.

But in that period--the year 378--the whole northern shore of the "Venetus Lacus" (Lake Constance) looked somewhat desolate, and often by no means peaceful. The lowlands were covered with primeval forests and fens--only here and there a few scattered settlements appeared on patches of parched tilled land.

At that time the lake covered a much more extensive tract of country than now, and a still larger space was occupied by a marshy territory between the water and the meadow, which being for the greater portion of the year a mere swamp afforded at the same time refuge and food to flocks of wild swans, herons, and countless smaller water-fowl.

This region had already been a considerable time in the possession of the Alemanni; but on the southern shore of the lake Rome still maintained her supremacy. This was with the special object of controlling the important roads leading from Gaul by way of Augst (Augusta Rauracorum) to Basle, Windisch (Vindonissa) to Arbon (Arbor Felix), Bregenz (Brigantium), and thence farther eastward, thus preserving the connection between the Western and Eastern portions of the Empire, and facilitating the movements of the troops. The men were sometimes forced to hasten from the Rhine to the Danube to meet the Goths in the East, and anon from the Danube to the Rhine to contend with the Franks on the lower, or the Alemanni on the upper portion of the stream.

This year also such assistance seemed necessary--this time in the eastern provinces, where the Gothic tribes, especially the Visigoths, fleeing before the Huns, had found refuge on Roman territory, but, driven to desperation by the ill-treatment of the Roman governor, had risen in arms.

True, Valens, the Emperor of the Eastern Empire, hoped to cope successfully with them alone; he would have been reluctant to share the fame of victory with his young nephew and fellow-ruler Gratianus, lord of the Western portion. Yet, nevertheless, he had been compelled to ask the latter to hold himself in readiness to come to his uncle's assistance with his Gallic legions in the territory bordering on the Danube.

Gratianus, however, thought that he could not leave Gaul and the Rhine until he had first punished the Alemanni for their recent incursions across the frontier, and--at least for a while--deterred them from making new inroads. At the same time he desired, in case the summons for help should arrive, to have traversed a portion of the long distance and thus be able to give his uncle aid more speedily. So, toward the end of July, he left his residence, Trier, with the larger portion of his troops, and marched by way of Zabern and Strassburg to the left bank of the Rhine near Augst and Basle. Here and at Windisch he formed two camps and kept the main body of his troops near him, busying himself in the reorganization of the province and eagerly awaiting news from the East.

The expedition against the Alemanni on the northern shore of the lake was entrusted to a small band of troops which, being able to move more swiftly, seemed better suited for the marches through swamp and forest and, moreover, amply sufficient in number; for the attack was directed against only the Linzgau, so called from the little river, which at the present time is still known as the Linz, or more frequently the Ach. This was the home of the Lentian Alemanni, who lived on the northern and western shores of the lake and, during that very spring, had harried the Roman frontier. The command of the expedition had been entrusted to experienced generals who had chosen their own force of foot and horse, while a large baggage train conveyed the provisions and the remainder of the luggage. In all, there were probably more than three thousand men.

According to the old victorious Roman strategy--whose success was proved by the conquest of nearly half the world known at that day--this small force was to assail the foe from several directions at once, the same as in great campaigns, as if seized by claws, a favorite comparison in Roman military literature. Part of the troops--the cavalry, several squadrons of cataphractarii (mailed riders, who were completely sheathed in armor), cohorts of the Twenty-Second Legion, picked German mercenaries, Batavians (they were considered the best of all the foreign soldiers), and lastly the flower of the Imperial Guard, foot-soldiers, mainly Illyrians and Thracians, were to march northward from Windisch, cross the Rhine, move along the old road to the north, then, suddenly turning eastward, skirt the western shore of the lake to gain its northern side, thus penetrating the whole Linzgau from the west to the east, halting at an appointed place in the heart of the enemy's country and awaiting the second division. Meanwhile this second body was to march along the great highway bordering the southern shore from Windisch to Arbon, cross the lake in boats, land on the northern shore, and pass through the Linzgau from east to west till they reached the first division.

Thus the escape of the Barbarians, whose tilled lands would all be laid waste, would be cut off both eastward and westward. Those who attempted flight southward in their boats across the lake would be intercepted by the Roman Bodensee¹ Fleet. Year after year, the last time that very March, the most brilliant reports of its strength and prowess had been sent to Gaul. The remnant of the foe remaining after the assault from two or three directions were to be driven by the united bands as far as possible into the inhospitable northern forests, or forced into the Danube.

The place of meeting appointed for both divisions was the lofty hill, half a league north of Friedrichshafen, whence at the present day the church of Berg dominates the lowlands. At that time it was known as the Idisenhang,--the hill of the wood-goddesses. The Roman ships, in crossing directly from Arbon, were obliged to run into the bay of what we know as Friedrichshafen. For the land forces the leaders hoped to find a passable route along the remains of an old military road, which formerly--in Rome's better days--had extended also around the northern shore of the lake. This steep hill, affording an unimpeded view in every direction and dominating the whole neighborhood, was a model of the positions where the Roman eagle was fain to alight for a brief rest during its flights in quest of prey. Here a camp was to be formed, whence the land of the Barbarians would be ravaged by small bodies of troops in every direction, while the strong fortified camp should maintain the connection with the lake, the fleet, and the southern shore, until the whole enterprise was completed and the Romans could return to the Emperor at Windisch.