misfortunes. At the end of 1658, before the full tale of disaster was accomplished, the Portuguese Viceroy at Goa sent home a despairing letter, in which he predicted that the whole of the country's possessions in the East would be lost if aid was not sent. The Queen of Portugal, writing in reply to this or some similar missive, buoyed up the depressed official with the prospect of marriages between the daughter of Cromwell and her son, Don Alfonso, on the one hand, and the Princess Infanta and the King of France on the other. It was suggested that out of these unions might develop an alliance which would free Portugal from the clutches of her remorseless enemy. As we know, these marriages, if they were ever seriously considered, came to naught; but it is equally a familiar piece of history that the design which was unfolded in the communication to the Viceroy at Goa of seeking a potential alliance through a dynastic union was carried out three years later when Charles II took as his wife the Infanta of Portugal. In this marriage we have another of the stepping-stones of British Indian history, for part of the dower of the bride was the Island of Bombay.
Few men at the careless period of the Restoration either knew or cared what a tremendous advantage had been conferred by this marriage arrangement. It was not an age of extensive geographical knowledge, and outside a very select circle the name of Bombay was probably quite unknown. The East India Company, however, were quick to understand the importance to their interests of the acquisition. With business-like acumen they prepared for the new era which they saw was opening up by sending to India as their special representative one of the most capable men they could find in Sir George Oxenden, a member
