no long stay at Cosenza, where malarial fever is endemic, and it did
not seem worth while to change my quarters. I slept very well.

I had come here to think about Alaric, and with my own eyes to
behold the place of his burial. Ever since the first boyish reading
of Gibbon, my imagination has loved to play upon that scene of
Alaric's death. Thinking to conquer Sicily, the Visigoth marched as
far as to the capital of the Bruttii, those mountain tribes which
Rome herself never really subdued; at Consentia he fell sick and
died. How often had I longed to see this river Busento, which the
"labour of a captive multitude" turned aside, that its flood might
cover and conceal for all time the tomb of the Conqueror! I saw it
in the light of sunrise, flowing amid low, brown, olive-planted
hills; at this time of the year it is a narrow, but rapid stream,
running through a wide, waste bed of yellow sand and stones. The
Crati, which here has only just started upon its long seaward way
from some glen of Sila, presents much the same appearance, the track
which it has worn in flood being many times as broad as the actual
current. They flow, these historic waters, with a pleasant sound,
overborne at moments by the clapping noise of Cosenza's washerwomen,
who cleanse their linen by beating it, then leave it to dry on the
river-bed. Along the banks stood tall poplars, each a spire of
burnished gold, blazing against the dark olive foliage on the slopes
behind them; plane trees, also, very rich of colour, and fig trees
shedding their latest leaves. Now, tradition has it that Alaric was
buried close to the confluence of the Busento and the Crati. If so,
he lay in full view of the town. But the Goths are said to have
slain all their prisoners who took part in the work, to ensure
secrecy. Are we to suppose that Consentia was depopulated? On any
other supposition the story must be incorrect, and Alaric's tomb