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28 September 2025

The Battle of the Braganzas Volume II: The Fall Out - Chapter 2 Murmurings

Pedro was feeling very happy and proud as he dismounted just outside the Cadeia Velha, or the Old Prison, where the Constituent and Legislative Assembly of the Empire of Brazil was about to convene. The Brazilian War of Independence was going well, Leopoldina had borne him another daughter who they had named Paula after the city where Brazil's independence had been declared, and best of all, he had found Domitilia a home in Mataporcos, halfway between the Imperial Palace and Boa Vista Palace.

He strode into the chamber, where he was welcomed by José Bonifácio who asked him about how the Empress and the princesses were faring. After receiving several minutes of acclaim from the deputies, Pedro sat on his throne, where he gave his speech:

"Today is the greatest day Brazil has known, a day on which it for the first time starts to show the world that it is an Empire and a free Empire."

The applause and the cheering was deafening, and it was several minutes before the Emperor was able to resume his speech:

"As Constitutional Emperor, as most especially as Perpetual Defender of this Empire, I said to the people on December 1st last year, when I was crowned and consecrated - that with my sword I would defend the Homeland, the Nation, and the Constitution, if it were worthy of Brazil and of me. A Constitution in which the three powers are well divided. A Constitution that, by placing inaccessible barriers to despotism, whether royal, aristocratic, or democratic, chases away anarchy and places the tree of liberty in whose shade should grow the union, tranquility and independence of this Empire, which will be the wonder of the old and new world."

Pedro took a quick glance at his notes, and then resumed:

"All the Constitutions, which in the manner of 1791 and 1792 have established their bases, and have wanted to organise themselves, experience has shown us that they are totally theoretical and metaphysical, and therefore unworkable: so proves France, Spain and, lately, Portugal. They have not, as they should, made the general happiness, but rather, after a licentious liberty, in some countries we see despotism is already appearing, and in others is soon to appear, in one, after having been exercised by many, the necessary consequence being that the peoples are reduced to the sad situation of witnessing and suffering all the horrors of anarchy."

There was a bit of murmuring at those words: some of the deputies were in full agreement with their Emperor, while others were unhappy at his warnings against "licentious liberty".

"So", Pedro concluded, "it is vital to prevent abuses not just by the Emperor but also by the political class and the general populace. I trust that the Constitution you are going to frame will merit my Imperial acceptance, being sufficiently wise, just and appropriate for the locality and civilisation of the Brazilian people. It is especially important not to enact laws that shall not be respected."

He then left the chamber, accompanied by applause, and made his way to a balcony on the Imperial Palace, next door to the Cadeia Velha, to watch the proceedings.


José Bonifácio now got to his feet.

"Honourable deputies", he announced, "having all heard and attended to the wise words of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, it is now time for us to begin our great work. I would especially hope that you will concur with my own proposals for our Constitution, as it was I who guided His Imperial Majesty to declare our glorious liberty."

"Liberty for you, that is!", came a shout from across the chamber. "You call it liberty, sir, when those who disagree with you and your brothers are exiled or imprisoned? When newspapers you don't like are shut down?"

All eyes turned towards the speaker. He was a short, fat little man with wild dark hair: his name was Sebastião Pinto.

"Senhor Pinto!", laughed José Bonifácio. "That fat man who can't tidy his hair? Who thinks he knows more about running the country than I do? Than the Emperor does?"

"Listen, Senhor Andrada", replied Pinto, now standing up, his body shaking, "I am here to tell you your days of running this country are over. Brazil will be governed for the benefit of the people, not you and your brothers."

"And how do you think you can stop me?", mocked José Bonifácio. "I, who have the ear of the Emperor? How foolish to even think it! The Emperor will never listen to a subversive republican like you!"

"The Emperor is not your puppet!", shouted back Pinto. "I will demonstrate to him that you have given him very bad advice: once he sees that, you will be finished!"

Pinto sat down defiantly, while José Bonifácio laughed out loud: he apparently did not notice that so many of the other deputies were murmuring in agreement with his opponent.

28 August 2025

The Battle of the Braganzas Volume II: The Fall-Out - Chapter 1 Counter-Revolution

"Faster! Faster!", Miguel urged his horse into a gallop. The horse duly picked up its speed. Sitting on one side of him, Carlota Joaquina gave him an encouraging smile: on the other side, Oliveira remained resolutely focused on the road.

They were travelling towards the town of Vila Franca, where they had heard that the 23rd Infantry Regiment had already begun a rebellion against the Cortes. The soldiers cheered when they saw the Infante, his mother and the Duke approaching: cries of "Long live Dom Miguel!" and "Down with liberalism!" could be heard. Miguel was both impressed and flattered by their support.

"See how loyal these good men are to you", said Carlota Joaquina. "They have as much faith as I have that you will do what your father should."

Feeling slightly nervous, Miguel edged his horse just ahead of his two companions, and the soldiers fell silent.

"Men of Portugal", he began, "it is time to break the iron yoke in which we live. The strength of national ills, already without limits, leaves me no choice. In place of the long-established national rights which they promised you would recover on August 24th 1820, they gave you ruin and the King has been reduced to mere ghost."

The soldiers shouted angrily in agreement. Feeling increasingly confident, Miguel continued:

"That to which you owe your glory in the lands of Africa and the seas of Asia, has been reduced to baseness and stripped of the brilliance that had once possessed from royal recognition; religion and its ministers, mocked and scorned; Brazil, under my brother Dom Pedro, driven to revolt."

Cries of "Down with the Cortes!" and "Hang the traitors!" were now heard. With an approving smile, Miguel concluded his speech:

"I find myself in the midst of valiant and brave Portuguese, determined as I am to die or to restore to His Majesty his freedom and authority. Do not hesitate, churchmen and citizens of all classes. Come and help the cause of religion, royalty and of you all, and swear not to kiss the royal hand again, until after His Majesty is restored to his authority."

The soldiers cheered lustily. Carlota Joaquina rode up and placed her hand on her son's shoulder.

"That was a brilliant speech", she said. "With the help of these good and brave men, we can do what His Most Christian Majesty did for your uncle in Spain."

Miguel smiled proudly at his mother, then turned back to face the soldiers.

"Is General Pampluna here?", he asked.

"Here, Your Royal Highness", said Pampluna, saluting and bowing.

"Will you lead these valiant men to destroy the traitors in Lisbon?", asked Miguel.

"I shall, Dom Miguel", replied Pampluna. "But I remain loyal and faithful to His Majesty, and humbly ask if Your Royal Highness will obey His Majesty when he summons you."

"This I agree to", said Miguel.


At Bemposta Palace, João was frantically pacing up and down. He had just heard the news of the rebellion.

"Are you all right, Papa?", asked Isabel.

"What am I supposed to do, Isabel?", asked João frantically. "I swore a sacred oath to abide by the constitution, but what will happen if I stand against this revolt? Oh, Isabel, I fear that if I try to put them down, the rebels will depose me! What should I do?"

"I don't know, Papa", she said. "Look deep into your heart, and it will tell you what you should do."

João smiled feebly, but before he could reply, he could hear shouts outside. He and Isabel made their way over to the window, where they saw the 18th Infantry Regiment.

The soldiers raised a huge cheer when they saw their King.

"All hail Dom João VI, absolute monarch of Portugal, Brazil and the Algarves!", they cried. "Down with liberalism! God save the King!"

João's contorted face now relaxed.

"I now know what I must do", he said to Isabel.


In Vila Franca, Miguel was just issuing his final instructions to the rebellious troops when someone cried out:

"Here comes His Majesty!"

Miguel turned his horse round, and, sure enough, he saw his father riding into the barracks. Miguel jumped off the horse and bowed to his father. Oliveira and the soldiers all followed suit, and after a moment's hesitation, Carlota Joaquina curtseyed.

"Why are you here, Papa?", asked Miguel nervously.

"I am come to receive your submissions, and to lead you all to Lisbon", João answered.

"To destroy the Cortes?", asked Miguel, breathing a little easier now.

"Yes", said João: loud cheers went up.

João led the troops as they surged forward out of the barracks, Carlota Joaquina and Miguel riding alongside him, Oliveira slightly behind. As they marched through the countryside, the peasants who saw them stopped work, cheered and saluted their King and called out "Long live the King!", "Down with the Cortes!" and "Down with foreign ideas!".

On reaching the capital, they headed straight for Necessidades Palace, and burst in on the Cortes while it was debating a new law.

"Your Majesty!", exclaimed Costa. "What is happening?"

His face fell: he had just noticed Carlota Joaquina, with a grim smile on her face, and Miguel.

"The Cortes is dissolved with immediate effect", announced João.

"No! No! Please, Your Majesty", cried Costa, but two soldiers roughly seized him and pinned him to the ground.

There were loud, angry shouts from the deputies of "This is outrageous!" and "Treason against the people!", but it was no good: the soldiers pointed their guns at the deputies, who fell silent, seeing that any resistance would be futile.

"Senhor Costa and certain other leaders are to be arrested", said João. "Others are to be deported."

Noises could be heard from outside the palace. Cries of "Shame!" and "Long live the constitution!" could be heard. It was clear that a demonstration had formed: João sent certain of the soldiers to suppress the protest. Meanwhile, Costa and the other arrested deputies were escorted out of the building: Costa struggled hard against his captors, but they held him firm. Carlota Joaquina laughed out loud as she saw him taken away.

"The rights of my dearly beloved wife, Dona Carlota Joaquina, as Queen of the United Kingdom of Portugal, Brazil and the Algarves, are restored", João announced. "The judiciary and other institutions are to be restored in line with the system that prevailed before 24th August 1820. I shall introduce a new law to safeguard personal security, property and jobs. And I shall create a commission, composed of moderate men, to draw up a new charter which shall replace the defunct constitution. I would like to invite the Marquis of Palmela to head that commission. Is he here?"

"I am, Your Majesty", said a slightly shaken Palmela, steeping forward from the shadows and bowing.

"Will you accept my invitation to head this new commission?", asked João.

"With all my heart, Your Majesty", Palmela replied.

João smiled approvingly.

"And last of all", he said, "my dear son Dom Miguel shall be the Generalissimo of our army."


"So I accepted this job", said Palmela, "in the hope that the new charter will provide a middle ground, between the despotism that we see in Russia or Spain, and the chaos that we saw in the Cortes, or in the French Revolution."

"Do you think His Majesty was justified, then?", asked Terceira, somewhat surprised.

"I cannot pretend I was happy with what was done", answered Palmela, "but I do feel we now have an opportunity to create a better system which balances liberty with order, as in England. However, I have my worries about Dom Miguel: he is far too easily influenced by the Queen, who is fanatical in her hatred of liberty of any kind."

"Do you think he can be made to see the benefits of moderation?", asked Terceira.

Palmela shook his head sadly.

"I doubt it", he said. "He lets his mother, and all who surround him, lead him by the nose. He is good when among good men, and when among bad, worse than they. It is a grave concern that he is now our Generalissimo."

11 August 2025

Denial

Note - the following post is a response to a LinkedIn exchange I recently had with a woman who was a trainee at the Wordsworth Trust with me in 2013, and who now works as a nurse, after she reposted the following message from the Simon Wiesenthal Centre denying that Israel is starving the people of Gaza:

https://www.linkedin.com/posts/simon-wiesenthal-center_hamas-activity-7354304202954711041-G7ah?utm_source=share&utm_medium=member_desktop&rcm=ACoAAAWdMLIBFCkFJgREyKr_a_P31rHWGrPwYNE


How could she do it?

Does she not know that the Simon Wiesenthal Centre has a long history of misrepresentation and false claims?

Does she not know that the Centre's LinkedIn page contains a host of misleading posts about the provision of food aid to Gaza?

Does she not know that it falsely accused German journalist Jakob Augenstein of anti-Semitism over columns he had written that criticised Netanyahu and his policies?

Does she not know that it has even accused Michael Blume, the former commissioner of anti-Semitism in Baden-Württenberg, of being an anti-Semite?

Does she not know that it labelled the Obama administration's abstention on a UN Security Council resolution condemning Israel's illegal settlements as the worst anti-Semitic incident of 2016?

Does she not know that it supports Donald Trump, despite Trump's own history of anti-Semitic comments?

Does she not know that it promoted a hoax about Iran forcing minorities to wear certain clothing?

Does she not know that the Centre has been accused of having a political agenda that "includes public hate-mongering of Muslims, regular appeals to a neofascist form of Zionism, and relentless provocations to religious war in Israel/Palestine"?

Or does she not care?


Does she not care about the tens of thousands of Palestinian civilians in Gaza killed, burned or maimed by Israel's bombs?

Does she not care about the rampant spread of diseases in Gaza?

Does she not care about the destruction of nine out of every 10 homes?

Does she not care about the 90 per cent of Gaza's population that has been displaced?

Does she not care about the attacks on schools?

As a nurse, does she not care about the children who are being starved, or Israel's systematic destruction of Gaza's healthcare system?

Does she not care about the Palestinians being shot as they queue for food?

Does she not care about the Palestinian health workers who have been killed, imprisoned or tortured by Israel?

Does she not care about the at least three Palestinian health workers who have died in Israeli custody?

Why does she say that she is "proud" to support a state behaving like this?

Or is this all "Hamas propaganda"?


Does she not know about former Israeli Defence Minister Yoav Gallant calling Palestinians "human animals"?

Does she not know about Benjamin Netanyahu's comparison of the Palestinians to Amalek, a biblical nation that the Israelites are commanded to exterminate?

Does she not know about the true character of the current Israeli government?

Does she not know about the routine incitement to genocide made by public figures in Israel?

Does she not know that an increasing number of genocide scholars, including Israeli ones such as Omar Bartov, have concluded that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza?

Does she not know that human rights organisations, including Israel's most prominent human rights groups, B'tselem and Physicians for Human Rights-Israel, have come to the same conclusion?

Or are these individuals and groups "Hamas propagandists"?


She says she wants the hostages freed - so why does she support continuing a war that puts their lives in danger?

She lectures me about Palestinians who oppose Hamas - is she unaware of the Israelis who oppose Netanyahu and his far-right government, or who want an end to the war?

She tells me she has Jewish ancestry and is concerned about rising anti-Semitism - does she not consider that the assertion that all Jews must support everything Israel does fuels anti-Semitism?


How could she do it?

Wouldn't you expect a former Wordsworth Trust trainee to embrace critical thinking?

To question a post that so clearly contradicts the reality in front of our eyes?

To not fall into a misinformation bubble?

To not insult her own and everybody else's intelligence?


How could she be like this?

Like Alex Jones calling the murdered children of Sandy Hook "crisis actors"?

Like Donald Trump supporters, fuelled by his lies about the 2020 election result, violently attacking the US Capitol Building on 6th January 2021?

Like Richard Hall secretly filming survivors of the Manchester Arena bombing?

And if she can fall for misinformation, is any of us immune?

09 August 2025

Dorothy Good

Ever since I can remember, I've been following Mummy and Daddy around Salem from house to house, as Mummy asks the people inside for money or bread. I wonder why everybody else seems to have a nice house but we have nowhere. I've heard people say horrible things about Mummy but I've no idea why. She is very good to me, and always tells me to be aware of bad people: Indians, Papists and Quakers. I don't really know what these are but I know not to go near them.

Mummy knocks on a big door. The door opens and a man is standing there.

"What do you want, Goody Good?", he asks. He doesn't say it very nicely at all.

"Could you give us some money, or maybe something to eat?", Mummy asks.

"Certainly not", the horrible man says.

"But we'll go hungry", says Mummy, who is starting to get angry. "Didn't Jesus say . . . ?"

The man turns his back on us.

"A curse on you!", Mummy shouts. "May God give you blisters all over your skin! May he kill all your livestock! May he strike down your children!"

The man just slams the door.

"Well, really", says Mummy.

"You should stop cursing people like that", says Daddy.

"If they won't help us, they deserve to be cursed", replies Mummy. "Jesus said that men who do not help those in need will be destroyed. And anyway, William", she adds, "it's your fault that we have to beg. If you could actually get a job . . ."

"No, Sarah", says Daddy, "it's all your fault, you're the one who has loaded all these debts on us."

I cover my ears. Please not another argument.

"It's not my fault my stepfather cheated me out of what was mine", says Mummy. "Or that my first husband spent more than he had, and then died, leaving me with his debts and the funeral costs."

"Your problems started because your father committed the mortal sin of suicide", says Daddy. "No wonder God has cursed you."

"What did you say?", roars Mummy, and she grabs him by the throat.

"No! No!", I wail. "Please stop it!"

They both look at me for a minute or two, before Mummy lets go of Daddy. Why do they argue all the time? I can only hope that they will stop when I get my new brother or sister. Yes! Mummy has told me she's going to have another child! I'm so looking forward to that.


As we travel through the town yet again, for what seems like the millionth time, a group of men come up to us.

"What do you want?", asks Mummy: maybe not the nicest way she could have said it, but then these don't seem to be very nice men.

"I am Reverend Nicholas Noyes", says one of the men, who looks like he is the leader. "Goodwife Sarah Good, 38 years of age, wife of William Good, you are under arrest on a charge of witchcraft."

The other men grab hold of Mummy and put her in chains. I scream.

"Witchcraft!" says Mummy, "What in God's name are you talking about!"

I've heard people talk about this thing called witchcraft before, but I don't think I fully know what it is.

"Betty Parris and Abigail Williams, two young relatives of Mr. Parris, have told him that you have afflicted them, Goody Good", says Mr. Noyes. "They have also named Goody Osborne and Tituba the Indian."

I know that Mr. Parris is a very important man in Salem: isn't he supposed to be God's man or something?

"Goody Osborne and Tituba must be the witches, not I", says Mummy. "Especially Tituba: she is an Indian, she is our enemy."

"You are a witch as well", says Mr. Noyes. "Why, just look at your grey hair and your wrinkles, you even look like one."

Mummy glares at him.

I look at Daddy.

"Please Daddy", I say, "you know this is all wrong, tell them."

Daddy steps forward.

"I am afraid", he says, "she either is a witch or will be one very quickly. She is an enemy to all good. Last night I saw a wart below her right shoulder, which I had not seen before."

Mummy spits in his face.

"Liar!", she shouts. "Agent of Satan!"

"Thank you, Mr. Good", says Mr. Noyes. "You are helping Salem get rid of this scourge. Take her away", he says to the other men

Mummy is dragged away, calling the men "Quakers".

"Come back, Mummy!", I call out.

I try to run after her but Daddy holds me back.

I start to cry.

"Why, Daddy?", I wail. "Why did you lie about Mummy?"

"Your Mummy is no good for you", he answers. "You'll be better off without her."

"No! No!", I cry. "I want my Mummy!".

"You're better off without her", says Daddy again. "And don't talk about her ever again."


Three weeks have passed, and a nice man is letting us live at his house.

Then a knock comes at the door. It's those men again! The same ones who took Mummy away!

The nice man asks them what they want, but they just brush past by him. They grab me and force chains onto my arms and legs. While I scream and ask them what's happening, Mr. Noyes speaks to me:

"Dorcas Good, four years of age, daughter of William and Sarah Good, you are under arrest on a charge of witchcraft."

("Dorcas"? They've even got my name wrong.)

"Please, please", I beg of Mr. Noyes, "this is wrong, I'm not a witch, please let me go."

"Your mother is a witch, so you are as well", he says. "It usually gets passed down from mother to daughter."

"No! No! No!", I scream. I turn towards Daddy. "Please, Daddy", I say, "You know this is wrong, tell them!"

But Daddy just shakes his head.

The men drag me through the streets until in the end we come to a frightening building. They push me into a small dark room. They take the chains off but then force me into another chain that is attached to the wall. Mr. Noyes sits down facing me.

"Dorcas Good", says Mr. Noyes, "you have bewitched poor Ann Putnam and Mary Walcott, causing your spirit to bite and choke them."

"I did not, sir", I beg.

Why can't he see the truth?

Mr. Noyes looks back over his shoulder.

"Bring in the afflicted girls", he says.

Two girls come into the room. At once they start screaming and throwing themselves about and doing all sorts of silly things.

"Leave us alone, Dorothy!", says one.

"Stop looking at us!", says the other.

How am I supposed to stop looking at them when they're being so silly?

Mr. Noyes turns back to face me.

"You see", he says, "these girls are afflicted with witchcraft when you so much as look at them."

What is happening? What in God's name is happening? And then, it hits me: something horrible is happening to me and Mummy. I don't quite know what it is, but it must be very bad. I start to cry.

"Please, I did nothing to these girls, I don't know what has happened to them", I say.

"The girls' behaviour proves beyond all doubt that you are a witch", says Mr. Noyes. "If you were not bewitching them, why would they be acting like that, do you think?

I have no answer: I just cry out, "I want my Mummy!"

"You will be allowed to see your mother if you admit that you are a witch", says Mr. Noyes.

I continue to cry. After a few minutes, Mr. Noyes speaks again, a little more gently.

"Do you have a bite mark upon you?", he asks.

"Yes", I sob: I show him a bite on my finger, from a flea.

Mr. Noyes sends the other girls away, then turns back to face me.

"Now, as you know, Dorcas", says Mr. Noyes, "witches will often keep snakes. Was it a snake that bit you, Dorcas?"

"Yes", I whisper, "Mummy gave it to me." I feel ashamed of myself.

"Did the snake ever talk to you, Dorcas?", asks Mr. Noyes. "As I am sure your mother will have told you, the Devil often speaks to people through animals."

"Yes, it did", I say.

"Have you ever seen your mother with the Devil, Dorcas?"

I don't answer: I am shaking with fright and shame.

"Have you ever seen your mother with the Devil, Dorcas?", says Mr. Noyes again, his voice sounding harder.

"Yes", I say, trembling.

Mr. Noyes leans back, smiling.

"Good", he says, "you have done very well, Dorcas, you have told the truth before God."

He then looks back over his shoulder again.

"Take her to the prison!", he says.

I scream again as the other men come back in, and drag me away. After I don't know how long, I find myself in a different building, being pushed into a big room. There are lots of people in here, and it's very crowded. Most of the people are women, but there are also a few men. I can see Mummy in there - she seems to be chained to the wall.

"Mummy!", I call out.

She looks out and calls to me: "Dorothy!"

The men drag me over to Mummy, push me down beside her and chain me to the wall next to her.

Mummy hugs me as tightly as I hug her.

"Poor child", she says.

"Poor child, indeed", says Mr. Noyes. "I am happy to inform you, Goody Good, that your daughter has confessed to witchcraft. She also said that she has seen you with Lucifer."

"You're a liar!", shouts Mummy.

"No he isn't, Mummy", I say.

"What?", says Mummy. She breaks away from the hug.

"I told you him that you're a witch", I say, beginning to cry again.

Mr. Noyes begins to laugh, and walks away.

"You traitor!", Mummy shouts. "You unnatural girl! You are no daughter of mine! You have broken God's Holy Commandments! What evil possessed you?"

"Please forgive me, Mummy", I sob, burying my head on her lap. "I was made to do it, Mr. Noyes brought in two girls who behaved strangely, he said I must have made them do it, he told me what to say, he said I could see you again if I did."

"You didn't have to lie", says Mummy. "I have always told these men the truth, that I am not a witch. Why couldn't you?"

"Please, please, Mummy", I say, but suddenly Mummy starts breathing very heavily and moving very strangely.

Someone shouts out that they need a "midwife", whatever that is, and after some time a woman rushes into the room and comes over to Mummy, and in the end she manages to pull out a little baby. Mummy hold the baby close to her.

"You have a little sister", she tells me, smiling. "Her name is Mercy."

Mercy starts to kick and pull Mummy's hair: Mummy smiles and cries at the same time. She then gives Mercy to me: Mercy pulls a few faces and laughs. I look at Mummy, and we both smile at each other.

"I'm sorry, Mummy", I say.

Mummy holds out her arm and pulls me in to her, hugging me tightly as I hold Mercy.

I soon notice what a horrible place this room is: it's very dark, it smells of smoke and poo, and I can see rats and insects.


Three months have passed since I was put in that horrible room next to Mummy. I'm watching Mercy take her first steps. Mummy isn't with us: yesterday the men took her away to something called a "court". Before she was taken, Mummy told me not to worry, that God is looking after us, and we will all soon be free. Mercy isn't as lively as she once was: she has been coughing a lot. She is also very thin: I remember Mummy once asked one of the men in charge of us to give us more food, saying she needed it so she can give milk to Mercy, but was told that she would have to pay for it - she doesn't have the money for it.

Just then I hear Mummy's voice:

"I am innocent! I am innocent!"

Her voice seems to be coming from outside the room and is getting louder. I feel something horrible in my stomach: the way she is saying it makes me think it must be bad news.

"Now, now, Goody Good", says the voice of Mr. Noyes, "God is displeased that you deny his justice."

"That court was the work of the Devil, not God", says Mummy.

"So you are a blasphemer and a liar as well as a witch", says Mr. Noyes. "My advice to you, Goody Good, is to confess your heinous crimes - if you do that, you will be spared."

At this point, I can see Mummy, the men who are taking her, and Mr. Noyes appear in the doorway.

"Never!", Mummy shouts, "I will not damn my soul, God knows I am innocent!"

"Then you shall hang", says Mr. Noyes.

I scream about 10 times louder than I ever have. Mercy begins to cry - she looks frightened.

After Mummy is chained next to me again, Mercy crawls over to her. Mummy takes Mercy on her lap.

"Mummy", I ask, "are they really going to hang you?" (I'm not quite sure what happens when someone hangs, but I've heard that it's a way of killing people.)

"Yes", says Mummy.

I cry as loud and as long as I have ever done, and I cling to Mummy.

"Please, Mummy", I beg, "don't die, don't go away, stay with me!"

Mummy gently strokes my hair.

"They won't hang me today", she says. "It'll be another three weeks."

That doesn't stop me crying.


It's a week later: every day I'm getting closer to when Mummy will be taken from me forever. Today, however, it's Mercy that we're worried about. She's lying in Mummy's lap, finding it very hard to breathe.

"Will Mercy be all right, Mummy?", I ask.

Before Mummy can answer, Mercy stops breathing. I cry, clinging to Mummy, and she cries, clinging to me.


Another two weeks. This morning, Mr. Noyes comes in. How I hate him. The same men who took me and Mummy to this place are with him.

He comes over to Mummy.

"Goody Good", he says, "we have come to take you away to face God's justice. Though you have spurned the opportunity to save yourself from the gallows, I will ask of you one last time, in God's name, to save your soul by confessing what we all know to be true: that you are a witch."

"You're a liar!", Mummy shouts at him. "I am no more a witch than you are a wizard, and if you take away my life God will give you blood to drink."

"Foolish to the end", mutters Mr. Noyes

Mummy ignores him and hugs me, as the other men take off the wall chain and put other chains on her arms and legs.

"Dearest Dorothy", she says, as I cry, "do not cry, for all my sufferings will soon be ended, and I will be with God the just and merciful. Promise me you will be a good girl and will be faithful to God at all times."

"I will, Mummy", I say.

"Hurry up", says Mr. Noyes. "God wants to see you swing."

Mummy stands up, and does not even look at him.

As she is taken away, I cry: "Come back, Mummy!"

I try to run after her, but I soon fall down: it's because of that horrible chain tying me to the wall. I can only watch as Mummy is taken out of my sight, forever.


Sarah Good was executed by hanging on 19th July 1692, along with four other women - Elizabeth Howe, Susannah Martin, Rebecca Nurse and Sarah Wildes. While the other four awaited execution quietly, Sarah vehemently protested her innocence to the last.

A total of 12 women and seven men were hanged during the mass hysteria known as the Salem witch trials - in addition, another man was pressed to death.

Dorothy Good, the youngest person to be accused in the Salem witch trials, languished in prison, without being charged with any crime, until 10th December 1692, when her father raised £50 to pay her bail and board. She had spent eight and a half months in custody.

William Good remarried, to Elizabeth Drinker, on 7th June 1693 - the couple had a son who died young.

In 1711, Sarah Good was named in a law passed by the Great and General Court (the Massachusetts legislature) restoring all rights to those convicted in the Salem witch trials.

In 1712, William Good petitioned the Great and General Court for restitution over the loss of his first wife and baby daughter, and the fact that Dorothy, "as a child of four or five years old, was imprisoned seven or eight months, and being chained in a dungeon was so hardly used and terrified, that she hath ever since been very chargeable having little or no reason to govern herself". He was awarded £20 - one of the highest sums granted to a victim of the witch trials.

William Good died, of an unknown cause, in 1714.

Reverend Nicholas Noyes died in 1717, allegedly after choking on his blood, just as Sarah had supposedly predicted.

From at least 1708, Dorothy lived in the houses of various prominent citizens of Salem, who were paid by the local authorities - the selectmen - to provide her with food, clothing and lodging. This was the usual practice for an adult who was unable to look after themselves. She also had two spells in the House of Correction. She was said to be in the habit of "straying". She gave birth to two children, Dorothy, in 1720, and William, in 1726 - the identities of the children's fathers are unknown. Both of her children were indentured soon after their births, and nothing more is known about them.

After 1738, Dorothy disappears from the records.

On 14th August 1761, the New-London Summary published a notice, announcing that the body of Dorothy Good, "a transient, vagrant person" had been found in a bog in New London, Connecticut, having "wondered [sic] into said desolate place, and there perished". It is not clear if this is the same Dorothy Good who was accused in the Salem witch trials, but the name Good was not especially common in New England or Connecticut in the eighteenth century, Dorothy was known to be a wanderer, transient people were frequently "warned out" of towns, and the fact that the notice was reprinted in the Boston newspapers (Salem did not have a local paper at the time) may suggest a link to the witch trials.

For more information on Dorothy Good, see the links below:

American Ancestors Spring 2023 Volume 24 Number 1

Rachel Christ-Doane — The Untold Story of Dorothy Good: A Tragic Life After the Salem Witch Trials - History Camp®

This story is dedicated to the memory of Sarah, Dorothy and Mercy Good.

22 June 2025

The Battle of the Braganzas Volume I: Brazil - Chapter 11 Emperor

After passionately kissing Domitilia goodbye, Pedro left São Paolo and set off back to Rio de Janeiro, feeling very happy. He and his Guard of Honour were now wearing armbands engraved with the legend "Independence or Death". After a week's riding, he arrived back in the capital: he was greeted by jubilant crowds, dancing in the streets and greeting each other with the words, "I am a Brazilian." News travels fast, thought Pedro, with some amusement.

He alighted at the gates of Boa Vista Palace: Leopoldina stood waiting for him holding Januária in her arms, with Maria standing on one side and José Bonifácio on the other. When they saw Pedro, Leopoldina's face broke out into a broad smile, and Maria ran over to her father, who scooped her up and hugged her tightly. When he reached Leopoldina, Pedro let Maria down and embraced his wife, while Januária played with her father's hair.

"Well done", said Leopoldina. "I am so proud of you."

"Congratulations, sire", said José Bonifácio, offering his hand. "You have done the right thing for Brazil, and torn off the Portuguese yoke. I hereby decree that the privileges of Portuguese living in Brazil are abolished, and the property of all who support our oppressor is confiscated, if you would be so gracious as to approve."

"I approve", said Pedro.


A month later, on Pedro's 24th birthday, he was in the Campo do Santana, standing on a balcony in a house that had once been the royal box overlooking the now destroyed bullring. It was raining heavily, but there was still a large and enthusiastic crowd gathered below. Numerous resolutions from municipal councils were presented to him, asking him to agree to become constitutional emperor.

"I accept the title of constitutional emperor", said Pedro, "because I have heard from my Council of State and General Procurators, and have examined the petitions of the municipal councils of the various provinces. I have not heard from all municipalities, but I am sure that the petitions I have received represent the general will of all the others, which only because of lack of time have not yet arrived."

A herald then stepped forward to proclaim:

"All hail Dom Pedro I, Constitutional Emperor and Perpetual Defender of Brazil!"

This was met by applause from the dignitaries on the balcony, and cheers from the crowd below. Cries of "Long live the Emperor!" went up. Pedro turned and looked at Leopoldina, whose eyes were shining with pride.


After another three weeks had passed, Pedro was crowned at the Old Cathedral. Before the crown was put on his head, he knelt in front of the altar, where the crown had been placed, where, speaking in Latin, he took the oath:

"I Pedro I, by the grace of God, Constitutional Emperor and Perpetual Defender of Brazil, swear to observe and maintain the Apostolic Roman Catholic religion. I swear to constitutionally observe and enforce the laws of the Empire. I swear to preserve and defend its integrity with all my strength."

Then he placed his hand on a Bible and said, "So help me God, and these Holy Gospels."

After the ceremony was complete, Pedro left the church and rode in a carriage to Boa Vista Palace. There, he and Leopoldina stood on the balcony, taking in the acclaim of the crowds.

"Good people", said Pedro. "I thank you for your support. So we move into a new era for this country: no longer tied to Portugal, but fully independent, under a constitutional emperor. I swear to defend the constitution that is going to be made, if it turns out to be worthy of Brazil and of me."

This was mostly met by cheers, but there were a few who, troubled by that last phrase, either kept silent or cheered only half-heartedly.


Loud applause ripped through the Necessidades Palace: the Cortes had finally finished its work on the Constitution of the Portuguese Monarchy.

"Gentlemen", said Costa, "we have done well, and have finally and irrevocably restored the liberties of the Portuguese nation. In this new and free Portugal, all men will have the right to property, individual liberty and equality under the law. Sovereignty shall reside in the Portuguese nation, exercised through this Cortes. The territory of the Portuguese nation shall consist of the Kingdom of Portugal, the Kingdom of the Algarves, the Adjacent Islands of Madeira and the Azores, the Kingdom of Brazil, and the colonies in Africa and Asia. All clerical and noble privileges are abolished. The legislative power shall be vested in this Cortes, which shall be elected by men over the age of 25 who are able to read and write. Women, servants and members of religious orders shall not vote. The legislature shall be the supreme power of the nation. The executive power resides with the King: he shall be the head of the government and will have a suspensive veto power over legislation, but cannot suspend or dissolve the Cortes. The Cortes shall elect a State Council to advise His Majesty, along with his ministers. The three kingdoms of Portugal, Brazil and the Algarves shall form a united monarchy. The Holy Catholic Church shall be the sole religion of the Portuguese nation."

Cheers followed: then the doors of the palace swung open and, with much fanfare, João entered, with Isabel by his side. In stately fashion and with much fanfare he proceeded to the centre of the chamber, where a copy of the constitution was presented to him. The King placed his hand on the constitution and declared:

"I Dom João VI, do solemnly swear to protect and uphold the Constitution of the Portuguese Monarchy and I do command all my subjects of the United Kingdom of Portugal, Brazil and the Algarves to abide by it."

The Cortes once again broke out into applause, which was soon cut off by a shout of "Your Majesty!".

Everyone turned to locate the source of the noise. A messenger came striding into the room with a grave expression.

"What's the matter?", asked João.

"Sire", said the messenger, bowing, "I have terrible news. Brazil is in open revolt against Your Majesty."

"Well", replied João, "I expect that my trusted son Dom Pedro will deal strongly and firmly with any disturbance."

The messenger shook his head.

"No, sire", he said. "Dom Pedro has put himself at the head of the revolt. He has declared Brazil to be independent of Portugal. They say that he will make himself Emperor."

There were furious shouts and denunciations from both the deputies and the public gallery. João looked stunned: yes he had told Pedro to make himself Brazil's ruler should it become independent, but for him to actually do it . . . that was another thing entirely. Isabel was open mouthed: how can Pedro have done this, she thought.

"Dom Pedro is a traitor!", shouted Costa.

"This is all because of you", Palmela proclaimed. "Because you would not listen, because you persisted with measures that neither the Brazilians nor Dom Pedro could accept. You have cost this country its most valuable colony."

His speech was met with angry boos and shouts of "Traitor!".

"Are you defending Dom Pedro, sir?", demanded Costa, his voice shaking.

"I hold no brief for Dom Pedro", replied Palmela, struggling to make himself heard above heckling. "But is is you who have driven him to this lamentable action. What in God's name were you thinking? That Dom Pedro and the Brazilians would happily accept a diminution in their status? That they would be pleased to go back to being a mere colony? Brazil is no longer the weak, backward society, dependent on us, that she once was: she is now a strong, prosperous, populous country. You should have trodden carefully with her, but instead you tried to trample on her: you should not be surprised that she has bitten you."

More boos followed, but Costa just sat in stony silence.


"So it has come to pass", said Carlota Joaquina with a grim smile. "The traitors have brought the ruin that I always knew they would. Pedro has shown them up for the fools they are."

"I thought you didn't like Pedro, Mama", said Miguel. "He holds all sorts of dangerous beliefs, and now he has rebelled against his own country, his own father."

"True", replied Carlota Joaquina, "but it is because of the traitors that he has rebelled. Now everyone can see just how disastrous that awful revolution was. We have the perfect justification for what we plan to do."

"So can we start planning immediately?", asked Oliveira.

"Yes we shall", said Carlota Joaquina. "You, my beloved son", she said to Miguel, "shall have the honour of leading the revolt."

29 May 2025

The Battle of the Braganzas Volume I: Brazil - Chapter 10 Independence or Death

Pedro rode into São Paolo on his beloved bay mare, wearing his customary blue and white armband and accompanied by a guard of honour comprised of local horsemen who had joined him on the journey from Rio. He was cheered as he arrived. He soon discovered that the military rebellion he had heard of was nothing of the kind: all that had happened was that Martim Francisco de Andrada e Silva had been expelled from the provincial junta. Pedro swiftly organised new elections to the junta: his choice for president was accepted, but some opponents of the Andrada brothers were also elected. Pedro accepted these results and set about enjoying himself in São Paolo. And there was certainly plenty to enjoy: lots of wonderful hospitality from the great and the good, lots of fine horses to purchase, lots of beautiful women to kiss.

One evening, Lieutenant Francisco de Castro, the Paulista officer who had accompanied Pedro on his journey, invited the Prince Regent to his father's house to meet his family. He had them all stand in a line while he introduced Pedro to them.

"This is my sister, Domitilia", said Francisco, pointing to a tall and well-built young woman with light skin; chestnut-coloured hair; dark green eyes; a delicate, slightly hooked nose, straight, pearly white teeth; an ample figure; delicate arms and neck; and a graceful bearing. She also wore plenty of make-up and a beautiful dress, something Leopoldina always refused to do. Pedro visibly gasped when he saw her, and his gaze lingered on her as he moved down the line.

At the meal that followed, Pedro made sure to sit next to Domitilia, who looked almost as excited as he did.

"And how are you, my lady?", Pedro asked her.

"Fine, Dom Pedro", said Domitilia, an eager look on her face. "Is Your Royal Highness enjoying your visit?"

"Enjoying it?", said Pedro, as the food was placed on the table. "I most certainly am. But now I am hungry, and I have an appetite."

He helped himself to a large slice of the beef: Domitilia gave a knowing giggle and also began to eat.

"Are you married?", asked Pedro, his mouth full.

"I am married in the eyes of the law", replied Domitilia.

"In the eyes of the law?", repeated Pedro, as he stuffed his mouth with more meat.

"I am married to a militia officer", she explained, "but I left him three years ago after he attacked me with a knife, leaving me with two wounds."

She carefully lifted up her dress to show Pedro the scars her husband had given her. Pedro banged his fork on the table in outrage: how dare her husband do this to such a beautiful woman?

"Where do you live now?", he eventually asked.

"I live with my father", replied Domitilia. "But I still live in fear of my husband."

"I'll help you", said Pedro.

"How?", asked Domitilia eagerly.

"I'll get you an annulment", said Pedro. "Would you like that?"

"Yes", said Domitilia at once.

Pedro leaned in close and whispered:

"Will you go to bed with me tonight?"

"I will, Dom Pedro", said Domitilia breathlessly, her body quivering. Wow, she thought, what an opportunity this is! Rescued from the fear of my husband and from a boring provincial life by the Prince Regent!

Pedro laughed.

"You don't have to call me 'Dom',", he said. "Not like everybody else."

"All right, Pedro", she said, with an enticing smile, "and you can call me Titília."

"Very, well, Titília", said Pedro: he kissed her passionately, and she kissed him back with equal passion. 

When the meal had finished, they made an excuse and went up to the bedroom where they were soon all over each other. How amazingly passionate she is, Pedro thought, how unlike Leopoldina, who, for all her wonderful qualities, can be rather dry and intellectual. I can have the best of both worlds - the intelligence of Leopoldina, and the passion of Domitilia.

When both had no more to give, they lay naked in bed in a tight embrace.

"Will you be with me tomorrow night as well?", asked Domitilia.

Pedro sighed.

"Unfortunately, not", he said. "I have to go to Santos tomorrow. I need to inspect the forts, and visit some of the chief minister's relatives. But don't worry", he added, caressing her hair, "when I have finished there, I will come back and see you again."


Leopoldina had just received a letter addressed to the Prince Regent. She opened it, and saw instantly that it was from the Cortes. Her jaw dropped when she read its contents, and at the next Cabinet meeting, she showed it to José Bonifácio, who frowned deeply when he read it.

"What should I do?", asked Leopoldina.

"My advice to you, Dona Leopoldina", replied José Bonifácio, "is to convene the Council of State and write a Decree of Independence."

At the Council of State meeting, Leopoldina sat down at the table and quickly wrote a Decree of Independence, while José Bonifácio and the other ministers stood watching her. She then wrote a letter to Pedro, and José Bonifácio wrote his own letter. The two letters, the Decree of Independence and the letter from the Cortes were bundled together. José Bonifácio handed the bundle to a messenger.

"Ride to São Paolo and find Dom Pedro", he instructed the messenger. "If you don't founder a dozen horses on the road, don't expect to be a messenger again."

The messenger galloped away with all speed.


Pedro was riding back from Santos to São Paolo, tingling with excitement over the thought of being reunited with Domitilia. When he reached a hill above a stream called the Ipiranga Brook, he felt the need to answer a call of nature, so he made his way down to the stream, while his guard of honour remained on the hill. He had just finished, and was buttoning up and straightening his uniform, when he heard a voice call:

"Dom Pedro!"

He looked up: a messenger was galloping towards him. The messenger dismounted and bowed, handing over a bundle of documents.

"Sent by Her Royal Highness the Acting Princess Regent and the chief minister", the messenger explained. "I couldn't find you in São Paolo, so I travelled down the Santos trail to find you."

Pedro first opened the letter from the Cortes. It read:

"Your Royal Highness,

"We, the General and Extraordinary Cortes of the Portuguese Nation, in the name of His Majesty the King, have grave concerns about the recent events that have taken place in the Kingdom of Brazil. We feel compelled to remind Your Royal Highness that your regency is purely honorific and exists solely with our permission. The Cabinet led by José Bonifácio de Andrada e Silva is hereby dismissed: it shall be replaced by men that we have chosen. All the acts of the previous Cabinet are null and void. As for José Bonifácio himself, he shall stand trial for treason, for encouraging Your Royal Highness to act against the wishes of the Portuguese nation. We are currently preparing 14 battalions, composed of 7100 men, to be shipped to Bahia to crush the treasonous rebellion that has broken out in that province. We sincerely hope that Your Royal Highness will carefully consider the contents of this letter, and realise how badly you have been misled by José Bonifácio, and come round to the correct course of action."

"Shit!", thought Pedro, as he discarded the letter. Then he began to read the letter from José Bonifácio:

"Your Royal Highness,

"The Portuguese Cortes has made clear its maniacal determination to crush any form of self-government in this kingdom. It has no respect for Your Royal Highness's position or for the Cabinet that you have chosen, and is sending more troops to enforce its will on us. Sire, the die is cast and from Portugal we have nothing to expect but slavery and horrors. Your Royal Highness should come to your decision as soon as possible and make up your mind, because speeches and half measures, in the face of this enemy that does not spare us, are of no use and each moment lost is a disgrace.

"With respect,

"José Bonifácio de Andrada e Silva."

Then the letter from Leopoldina:

"My dearest Pedro,

"Those anti-Brazil fanatics in Lisbon have made what amounts to nothing less than a declaration of war against this great country. They will accept nothing but total surrender to their demands, and the complete breaking of Brazil. I sincerely plead with you to return immediately to Rio de Janeiro to save our beloved Brazil from ruin. The fruit is ripe, pick it up, otherwise it will rot.

"Your ever loving,

"Leopoldina."

Finally, Pedro took a look at Leopoldina's Decree of Independence:

"I Dom Pedro, Prince Regent and Perpetual Defender of Brazil, do hereby decree that Brazil is now and forever, separated and independent from the Kingdoms of Portugal and the Algarves."

At the bottom there was a blank space for his signature.

Pedro reflected for a moment, before announcing out loud:

"The time has come. Independence or death! We're separated from Portugal!"

He mounted his bay mare, and rode to the top of the hill where his guard of honour was waiting for him.

"Friends", he announced, "the Portuguese Cortes wants to enslave and persecute us. As of today our bonds are ended. No ties can unite us any more."

He then tore off his blue and white armband, shouting "Armbands off, soldiers! Hail to the independence, the freedom, and to the separation of Brazil from Portugal!"

The soldiers ripped off their own armbands, shouting as they did so, "Long live independence!" and Long live Dom Pedro!".

Pedro unsheathed his sword.

"By my honour, by my blood, by my God, I swear to give Brazil freedom," he said.

The soldiers all took the same oath. Pedro then stood up in his stirrups, looked in all directions and announced:

"Brazilians, let our motto from this from this day forth be 'Independence or Death'!"

As the soldiers repeated the chant of "Independence or Death", Pedro signed the Decree of Independence. He then galloped back to São Paolo, the soldiers trailing in his wake. Swiftly he made his way to the house where Domitilia lived with her father.

"You look very excited", said Domitilia, once they had found a room where they were alone together.

"I've just declared Brazil independent from Portugal", said Pedro.

"Congratulations", said Domitilia. "What a brave thing to do."

"And there's more", said Pedro breathlessly. "If you come to the opera this evening, you will get a most wonderful surprise."

Domitilia eagerly asked what the surprise was, but Pedro refused to say, though as compensation he kissed and made love to her.


That evening, Pedro and Domitilia went to the opera, though, to her disappointment, Pedro would not let her sit in the royal box with him. The small theatre was packed, with the audience members excitedly telling each other the news that Dom Pedro had just declared Brazil independent. Just before the performance began, Pedro stood up in the royal box and gave a speech:

"Brazilians, this afternoon I received word of an attempt by the Portuguese Cortes to reduce Brazil to a state of miserable slavery. In order to thwart this wicked design, I have declared Brazil to be independent of Portugal, taking the oath, 'By my blood, by my honour, by my God, I swear to give Brazil freedom.'"

The audience cheered, and all in the theatre repeated the oath.

"Independence or Death!", shouted Pedro: the audience echoed the chant. Then the orchestra began playing a new song that Pedro had just composed to celebrate Brazil's new-found independence: Pedro sang the lyrics and the audience joined in with the chorus. When the song finished, Pedro was once more cheered: many hailed him as "King of Brazil", while a local poet recited a poem he had written calling Pedro Brazil's "first Emperor". This was followed by more cries of "Independence or Death!" and "Long live Dom Pedro!".

When the opera had finished, Pedro met up with Domitilia outside the theatre.

"You have done very well, Pedro", she said, leaning her body against his.

"Thank you very much, Titília", blushed Pedro, embracing her.

"Will you take me back to Rio with you?", asked Domitilia.

"I can't do so just yet", replied Pedro, "but I will find a house for you there."

03 May 2025

The Battle of the Braganzas Volume I: Brazil - Chapter 9 The Parting of the Ways

Leopoldina was cradling their newborn daughter in her arms as the little girl slept peacefully. Her parents had named her Januária, after Rio de Janeiro. Pedro and Leopoldina both smiled indulgently at her, while Maria gently stroked her baby sister's head. Her birth had gone some way towards easing the pain they all felt over the loss of João Carlos, though Pedro was disappointed not to have a male heir.

"Things are moving pretty fast, aren't they?", remarked Pedro.

"What do you mean?", asked Leopoldina.

"Well . . . our new daughter", said Pedro, "the rebellion in Bahia . . ."

"Yes", said Leopoldina. "The people do seem to be turning against the Cortes. Which is a good thing."

"You're right", said Pedro, "and I shall be sending troops to help the rebels in Bahia."

"Have you thought about independence?", asked Leopoldina.

"I'm still hoping that some resolution can be found", Pedro replied. "Maybe after the Avilez fiasco, the Cortes will realise that they need to treat Brazil as an equal."

"I'm not sure they will", said Leopoldina.

"José Bonifácio thinks that, as well", Pedro admitted.

"I think he's right", said Leopoldina. "He is usually right about these things."

"I agree", said Pedro, "he is a very able man, and, like a good father, gives us very sound guidance."

Leopoldina nodded.


Pedro rode on his bay mare into Minas Gerais. He had few companions, and he had given orders that there be no pomp or ceremony. He was unsure of what to expect: Minas Gerais had few Portuguese troops, and the junta in charge had not recognised his authority, so he had heard that the population here held some doubts about him. But he needn't have worried: as soon as the people saw who it was cries of "All hail Dom Pedro!" went up. He got off his horse to meet with people: all those he greeted pledged their allegiance to him. Finally he made his way to the city hall, where the junta met.

"Good sirs", he said, "I commend you for the efficient work that you are doing. I come to praise you, but also to command you to submit to the authority of me, the Prince Regent."

"We agree to this", the junta members replied, bowing as one.


Back in Rio, one day Pedro received a petition from the city council.

"Dom Pedro", announced the leader of the council, "we are most appreciative of your courageous and valiant defence of this country against our would-be enslavers in Lisbon. To properly honour you, we humbly request that Your Royal Highness assume the title of Perpetual Protector and Defender of Brazil."

"I thank you for your kind request", replied Pedro. "I shall not assume the title of Protector, as I do not think that the kingdom needs a protector." In truth, the word "Protector" sounded rather too republican for his liking.

The petitioners looked disappointed.

"However", Pedro continued, "I am most pleased to accept the title Perpetual Defender of Brazil."

They cheered.

"And also", asked the leader of the council, "would Your Royal Highness consent to summoning a constituent assembly?"

"We do not need a constituent assembly", asserted José Bonifácio. "Dom Pedro is perfectly capable of writing a constitution himself, with my expert advice."

"I see no harm in a constituent assembly", said Pedro. "I consent to the request."

José Bonifácio looked rather alarmed, but quickly regained his composure.

"As you wish, sire", he said. "But may I request that the elections to it be indirect?"

Pedro agreed. Soon a proclamation went round the city:

"His Royal Highness the Prince Regent, in the name of His Majesty the King, is pleased to announce that elections will be held to choose a constituent assembly. The purpose of this assembly shall be the maintenance of the integrity of the Portuguese monarchy, and to define the bases on which Brazil's independence should be established. It shall insist on a just equality of rights between Brazil and Portugal."


"Have you finished composing it?", asked Pedro.

"Yes, sire", replied José Bonifácio, and he handed Pedro the Manifesto to Friendly Nations.

"Very well done", said Pedro. "This shall be published immediately."

The Manifesto demanded that all Brazilian representatives in the Cortes should immediately return to Brazil, called on all friendly countries to deal with Brazil directly rather than via the Cortes, and declared war on the Portuguese army in Brazil. It also contained a fierce denunciation of 300 years of Portuguese oppression of Brazil. However, it also asserted that Pedro had no "desire to cut the ties of unity and fraternity which ought to make the Portuguese Nation a single well-organised polity."


"Why not declare independence?", asked Leopoldina.

Pedro shuffled up and down the room, struggling to think of an answer.

"Because", he said, "it would be an act of disloyalty."

"Disloyalty?", repeated Leopoldina.

"To my father", said Pedro. "I thought you would understand that, after all, you always got on well with him."

"But your father barely has any control over Portugal any more", replied Leopoldina. "It is the Cortes that governs the country, and which seems to hate Brazil. And you saw what Avilez did, to this city and to us", she added, with a hardened edge to her voice. "You would be rebelling against the Cortes, not your father: I'm sure he would understand your reasons."

"Maybe", said Pedro, his voice wavering, "but I just don't want to do it."


"It is outrageous!", shouted Costa. "Dom Pedro has defied our instructions, expelled His Majesty's troops from his Kingdom of Brazil, and chosen as chief minister his brother." He pointed an accusing finger at Antônio Carlos, who was smirking at him. "A man who hates us", Costa continued. "If you harbour any doubts about it, just listen to this."

He indignantly brandished a copy of the letter that José Bonifácio had written to convince Pedro to remain in Brazil: Antônio Carlos's smirk grew even wider.

"Apparently", declaimed Costa, "we want to impose 'a system of anarchy and slavery' on Brazil, we are 'enemies of order' who have 'robbed Brazil of the beneficent founder of the kingdom'."

There were angry shouts from the other deputies and from the public gallery.

"Wait", continued Costa, "there's more. José Bonifácio says we are guilty of 'absurdities and despotisms', we are 'a small number of disorganisers', and we are guilty of 'a new Constitutional Machiavellianism."

Angry shouts filled the Necessidades Palace: cries of "Treason!" and "Down with José Bonifácio!" could be heard. Antônio Carlos kept on smirking, while the other Brazilian deputies sat stony faced.

"Why", said Antônio Carlos, jumping purposefully to his feet "what kind of men are you? The worst kind, the ignorant kind. Are you so foolish as to think that this puny little kingdom can subdue the great and vast Kingdom of Brazil? Is there any of you who matches up to Dom Pedro, or to my distinguished brother? What? You think you can strip us of our rights? Can a tiny ant take away from the lion the title of King of the Beasts? What blockheads you are to even think it!"

He sat down: throughout his speech, he had been loudly booed by the gallery, but he just kept on smirking.

Costa's face was a perfect shade of purple as he stood up to respond, but before he could speak, the Marquis of Palmela got to his feet.

"Senhor Costa", he said, "I pray you, do not react rashly to these insults. Cool heads are what is required now."

"Does not Your Lordship see that Brazil is in open revolt against the King?", demanded Costa. "The rebels must be crushed."

"I beg of you", said Palmela, "think hard before you consider your next move. I speak as a man who loves His Majesty and Portugal as much as you do, and has both his and the kingdom's best interests at heart. If you do not tread carefully with Dom Pedro, you are at grave risk of unleashing forces beyond your control. I call upon the Cortes to step back from the brink. I propose that Dom Pedro's recall to Portugal be postponed until the Constitution has been ratified, and that the governors of arms in Brazil be subordinated to the provincial juntas. If we take these steps, we might be able to find a settlement acceptable both to us and to the Brazilians."

These words were met by a disapproving silence. Costa shook his head firmly.

"The time for talking to the Brazilians is past", he said. "You heard what Dom Pedro's chief minister, and his brother, think of us. I propose that we send more troops to Brazil, and we bring a prosecution against José Bonifácio de Andrada e Silva for high treason."

The vote was carried overwhelmingly, despite loud shouts of "Shame!", "Down with the Cortes!" and "Long live Dom Pedro!" from Antônio Carlos and the other Brazilians present. The result of the vote prompted loud cheers from both the deputies and the spectators. 

"Good", said Costa. "A letter shall be sent to Dom Pedro informing him of the steps we have taken."


"Alas", sighed Palmela, "it seems that all semblance of reason has gone. Passions are flying high on both sides, and no one seems to want to pull back from this."

"Well, maybe", replied the Duke of Terceira, "the fault lies with those Andrada brothers. It's obvious they hold Portugal and the Cortes in contempt."

"I won't defend what they have said", answered Palmela, "but the Cortes is foolish in the extreme in reacting like this. The Andradas may not have helped matters, but there is clearly a lot of anti-Brazil feeling in the Cortes. Remember, from the very start of the Revolution, they said that Brazil should be reduced to a principality. No good can come of this, I am certain. The English, the French and the Spaniards - far larger and more powerful than we - could not defeat their American rebels: what makes them think that we could?"

"Do you think there is a chance of a peaceful resolution?", asked Terceira.

Palmela shook his head sadly.

"The Cortes clearly won't back down, and Dom Pedro will certainly not accept their demands", he said. "I dread what is to come."


"You see?", said Carlota Joaquina eagerly, "just how foolish the traitors are proving to be? Even I didn't think they would be so quick to cause disaster."

"Should we start making our preparations?", asked Miguel.

"Not yet", his mother replied. "The Brazilian catastrophe that they will provoke has not yet happened. But it soon will."

"Let's hope it does", said the Duke of Oliveira.


Pedro once again mounted his bay mare. He had considered whether or not to wear his blue and white armband, but had eventually decided he would, partly out of filial loyalty and partly out of habit.

"Good luck", said Leopoldina.

They had heard that a rebellion had broken out against the São Paolo junta: Pedro was setting off to deal with it.

Pedro leaned down to kiss Leopoldina.

"Goodbye, until we meet again", he said. "I know you will do a fine job as Acting Princess Regent."

And off he rode: Leopoldina continued to watch him until he disappeared from view.