Nay, it is added, that some of them
retain the ancient maps and deeds of the estates and gardens of
their ancestors at Granada, and even the keys of the houses, holding
them as evidences of their hereditary claims, to be produced at the
anticipated day of restoration.
My conversation with the Moor set me to musing on the fate of
Boabdil. Never was surname more applicable than that bestowed upon him
by his subjects of El Zogoybi, or the Unlucky. His misfortunes began
almost in his cradle, and ceased not even with his death. If ever he
cherished the desire of leaving an honorable name on the historic
page, how cruelly has he been defrauded of his hopes! Who is there
that has turned the least attention to the romantic history of the
Moorish domination in Spain, without kindling with indignation at
the alleged atrocities of Boabdil? Who has not been touched with the
woes of his lovely and gentle queen, subjected by him to a trial of
life and death, on a false charge of infidelity? Who has not been
shocked by his alleged murder of his sister and her two children, in a
transport of passion? Who has not felt his blood boil, at the
inhuman massacre of the gallant Abencerrages, thirty-six of whom, it
is affirmed, he ordered to be beheaded in the Court of Lions? All
these charges have been reiterated in various forms; they have
passed into ballads, dramas, and romances, until they have taken too
thorough possession of the public mind to be eradicated.
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