David Gelber
Lucky Bastards
The Braganzas: The Rise and Fall of the Ruling Dynasties of Portugal and Brazil, 1640–1910
By Malyn Newitt
Reaktion Books 376pp £25
When Charles II married Catherine of Braganza in 1662, it was an alliance of royal irregulars. Charles had been restored to the English throne only two years earlier after spending much of the previous decade scraping an existence in France and the Low Countries. Catherine was the daughter of a usurper: her father, the Duke of Braganza, had seized the crown of Portugal from King Philip IV of Spain in 1640. Although he was swiftly proclaimed King João IV, when he died sixteen years later he was still at war with the man he had dispossessed. Both João and Charles had slummed it on the way to the top. On taking possession of the royal palace in Lisbon, the erstwhile duke discovered it had been stripped of all furniture. An English visitor to Lisbon who encountered him found him ‘meanly clad as any Citizen’ and ‘homely as any Farmer’. Charles, who had disguised himself as a farm hand while fleeing Cromwell’s forces after the Battle of Worcester in 1651, had more in common with his bride’s father than was typical among royal in-laws.
The coming together of the royal houses of England and Portugal in 1662 is possibly the only historical episode to have propelled the Braganzas into British consciousness – and largely on account of Catherine of Braganza’s dowry, which included the modest gifts of Tangier and Bombay. The rest of the family is almost entirely unknown, and perhaps with good reason. They rarely intruded into the great affairs of Europe and their courts, says Malyn Newitt, were for the most part ‘dull, formal and antiquated’. In spite of this, Newitt manages, through a mixture of breezy writing, jaunty quotations and bountiful illustrations, to produce from lacklustre soil a fruitful harvest.
When the Stuarts and the Braganzas were joined in matrimony in 1662, their holds on their respective thrones were equally tentative, but in the decades thereafter, their fortunes took opposing paths. While Charles II’s successors saw their powers dramatically circumscribed, João IV’s heirs gradually extended theirs, so that
Sign Up to our newsletter
Receive free articles, highlights from the archive, news, details of prizes, and much more.@Lit_Review
Follow Literary Review on Twitter
Twitter Feed
Richard Flanagan's Question 7 is this year's winner of the @BGPrize.
In her review from our June issue, @rosalyster delves into Tasmania, nuclear physics, romance and Chekhov.
Rosa Lyster - Kiss of Death
Rosa Lyster: Kiss of Death - Question 7 by Richard Flanagan
literaryreview.co.uk
‘At times, Orbital feels almost like a long poem.’
@sam3reynolds on Samantha Harvey’s Orbital, the winner of this year’s @TheBookerPrizes
Sam Reynolds - Islands in the Sky
Sam Reynolds: Islands in the Sky - Orbital by Samantha Harvey
literaryreview.co.uk
Nick Harkaway, John le Carré's son, has gone back to the 1960s with a new novel featuring his father's anti-hero, George Smiley.
But is this the missing link in le Carré’s oeuvre, asks @ddguttenplan, or is there something awry?
D D Guttenplan - Smiley Redux
D D Guttenplan: Smiley Redux - Karla’s Choice by Nick Harkaway
literaryreview.co.uk