Excerpts from selected Louise Chandler Moulton texts

By Dahra Mautone

The railway from Irun to Burgos is said to be a masterpiece of engineering. Shall I ever forget how that afternoon sped on, leading us from beauty to beauty, until at last the royal Spanish sunset came, kindling the skies to crimson, and touching the hill-tops with a baptism of blood and fire? And then we saw visions. Down one western slope we were sure we saw Don Quixote ride, and on the hill-top opposite it was a true giant, and not a windmill, that confronted the faithful knight. And in the heart of that western glory surely we saw a castle,and each woman of us believed herself its rightful chatelaine.

Source: Moulton, L. C., 1896, Lazy Tours in Spain and Elsewhere, Boston, Roberts Brothers, pp. 6-7.

On through the town we went, glancing in at open doors as we passed, until suddenly stillness, broken only by the flow of murmuring waters, was about us, and a soft gloom through which the high moon could hardly pierce. We had entered the enclosure of the Alhambra, and the elms the Duke of Wellington planted were arching thickly over our heads. And our hearts beat fast, and we whispered to each other, «We are here at last!». We drove on up the height, and everywhere the water murmured beside us, and the moon peered at us through the trees, and it was a dream in which we moved, and yet no dream, for here we were in front of Hotel Washington Irving, and when we said, hardly knowing that we spoke, -«Is it the Alhambra?». The one-eyed landlord answered, in good English -«Yes, ladies, and your rooms are ready». [...] One of the quaint inscriptions [inside the Alhambra], being interpreted, says, «Look attentively at my elegance»; but in a first visit to the Alhambra you cannot look attentively at anything. A sort of intoxication seizes you. You are impelled by a wild desire to see everything at once, and you hurry from place to place, fearful lest night should surprise you before you have beheld the whole.

Source: Moulton, L. C., 1896, Lazy Tours in Spain and Elsewhere, Boston, Roberts Brothers, pp. 35-36.

The [Granada] Cathedral is the haunt of beggars who call themselves guides, and who get in your way till you are glad to give them your last penny to be rid of them. It was in this way I met a ragged son of Spain, about twelve years old, and so beautiful that I could no more forget him than I could forget the Alhambra. He was the very raggedest of the whole crew, but, oh, how fascinating he was, with the smooth oval of his dark cheeks, and with his eyes so deep, so melting, so pathetic, that they almost brought the tears to mine. He thought that he spoke English, and this was the manner of his speaking: «Antigua house, see, missis». With pennies I bribed him to learn to say, «I am a very bad little boy». He said the words slowly and solemnly, as if they were an incantation, without the most distant idea of their meaning; and I heard of him, weeks afterward, startling subsequent visitors to the Cathedral with this formula.

Source: Moulton, L. C., 1896, Lazy Tours in Spain and Elsewhere, Boston, Roberts Brothers, p. 39.