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him, and, with a blow in the face, wanted but a little to put out one of his eyes.

I was, and am, sure all this did proceed but from some few ill affected persons, and therefore, the day following, 1 esteemed it superfluous to look to myself more than usually.

I slighted those, who thin publickly bragged, that no Portuguese should then dare to return and expatiate there again. For I should have much admired, if, from the plurality of this nation, so dear to us all, such hard speeches and prohibitions had proceeded, especially remembering how all English, and particularly gentlemen, are, and have always been loved, and honoured in my country, where Portugal against Portugal would have boldly and laudably stood for any stranger in such a rencounter, according to that polyanthea, Verbo hospita* litatis redeo: Do no harm, nor affront a guest and stranger; do not so much as indanger his safety, &c.

Upon these considerations, I came the next night to the Exchange, but with a far other intent than I am accused of. I, myself, brought no arms at all, nor any of those that then entered with me; so great was my confidence in the affection I hoped from the greatest part of whomsoever I should find there, sought for always, and deserved by my brother and myself. This I did on purpose, persuading myself, with sweet and civil language, and with my unarmed habit of both mind and body, to appease and moderate those that, by chance, might be there unsatisfied, by reason of the mistake happening the night before. I tall God to witness, who searcheth the secrets of hearts, and I appeal also to all the English gentlemen there to argue me, if hitherto I flinch from the truth.

For myself, I stood not at all in awe of those threats which I was informed of; but some of our domesticks followed me of their own accord, apprehending some danger in my behalf, so to assist me, if need were, but only in a defensive way, wheresoever it were requisite. It is true, all are prone to love and respect me, to whom I will not give any thanks upon this occasion, but only resent, and grieve, that they should follow me in so great a number, whose duty, I assure them, shall be less acceptable, because it was not expected; for, I do protest, I dreamed not of half so many, as that night came after me. Although, among these, some had too many arms, as I said before, yet would not attempt any thing, if I should enjoy quietly the liberty of my accustomed walk. I confide, nothing can be laid to their charge, as done otherwise than I relate; yet, if any thing were untowardly and foolishly committed by anyone of them, I beseech it may not be, or seem, my fault, who was seriously ignorant of it; and I would rigorously punish them, if my brother but granted me leave; nay, 1 would importune his excellency, and my king also, with bowed knees, for such a power, so excessive is my sorrow for this most unhappy accident, in which, I hear, we have displeased so many of this city, and singularly of the Exchange-merchants, who have asserted many things, wholly unknown to me, against me and ours.

It is hard to take away the first impressions so deeply grounded, yet I humbly beg of them all, that, without any partial love or aversion each one would say no more than his conscience dictates, and he assuredly knows. I doubt not, this I demand, for none can but pity us, seeing we are so small a company, so remote from our country, and to that condition brought, that most are prone to censure and condemn us by the very name of Portuguese; especially, because the total envy of all this business, by most, is only ascribed to us. Let none, I pray, beso much our enemy, as to exaggerate our crime above truth, but let all favour us for our former affection, rather than hate us for this present event.

For you, noble English gentlemen, pardon me, if I were so touched with too quick a spur of honour, that nothing could retard me from coming to the second, yet by me unexpected broil. I never imagined what so unluckily fell out, but put a greater confidence in the civil character I framed of each one (nor was I deceived in most) of a more kind and gallant disposition, than to give an origin or provocation to all this which presseth me alone. You know, and experience, how ardent the thought of glory is in generous souls; whence, I grant, that I do not contemn my life, but I far more value my honour. Although, I protest, if I could have foreseen what befel, for all those threats, I had not come to the Exchange, but would have waved my honour, a little blemished by the indiscreet counsels and threats of some few: I would not, I say, have ventured so, before I had made my way, by my civility to you all, and procured a better understanding reciprocally betwixt both parties. But, believe me, I did not think it my duty either to fear or fly, or to be reconciled to any that justly would meet me there upon any unhandsome terms; for, indeed, I was conscious that I had peradventure received, but given no offence to any, that would aright reflect and understand me.

Let here that English gentleman speak, if he will honour and befriend me so far in these my straits, for he must needs call to mind, how I then carried myself. He first expostulated quietly with me for what befel the night before; to whom I replied, in all meekness and civility, that I was ready, if need were, to satisfy him, and all the English gentry, as was fit for me to do, and them to demand. This also I added and desired, that none should so mistake me, as to esteem it any injury, contempt, or quarrel, to them at all; for, indeed, the Portugal gentry can neither presume, nor wish, to contest with the English, from whom they seek and desire a firm and stable peace and union.

While thus things were carried, behold, all the Exchangemen, with great noise, shut up their shops, which I will not interpret to any ill intention against my person; for both I in French, as I could, and divers English gentlemen, cried out aloud, What is the business? What needs all this? To what purpose so great a change? Nevertheless, no Portuguese did hitherto endeavour any hostility at all, until such time as a pistol was discharged, upon the very ascent of the lower walk to the higher. Here began the unhappy mutiny, wherein so much ill followed, which I grieve as much as any Englishman whatever. Unhappy man! whose shot that was, a most rash action, and cause of all this; whether English or Portuguese, if taken, he deserves no light punishment. I am sorry, from the bottom of my heart, that my peos pie should so love me, as, for the fear they conceived of me, to have made way through that throng to seek me. I am sorry, I say, because, on both parts, blood was shed in that confusion.

For all this, tell me, I pray, why that, which so unhappily fell out, should only produce malice against me and ours? Is it, because that powder was found in a coach? I do protest, before Almighty God, I knew nothing ofthat; nay, I hope that my brother will not leave him unpunished who committed so undiscreet an action; not only, thereby, to give satisfaction to this deserving gentry, and loving people, but to myself also; seeing, for that, and such other inconsiderate and tumultuous actions, I suffer these no ordinary things, and very disproportionable to my person.

This I write, to shew my inclinations impartially for Portuguese and English, both whom I desire to be dear; yea, and to give the truest relation I could of all this business, with my intentions therein. I doubt not, but my brother, as the greatness of this affair required, hath made his addresses to the most excellent council, to whose prudence and safe-guard I commit myself. Nay, Itrust and rely more to the piety of this nation towards strangers, and people remote from their country, than to this narration of mine, which hath no other defence for me, but naked truth; which I lay before the eyes of all this city, that none have a partial aversion for me and ours, though otherwise this business, hitherto, as I hear, in news-books related, might justly deserve.

I ask, lastly, in all humility, of all the English gentry, that they will not esteem any wrong done them by me; since even what is effected, was not, nor shall the like be ever intended by me and ours. Ascribe, I pray you, this whole accident to chance, rather than to deliberate envy, and pardon it, for the love our nation hath ever borne to yours. So I demand mine from you, gentlemen, as my brother, for his King, peace and amity, from all your common-wealth. Unless I were too long, I would compassionate many who have suffered most in this unfortunate chance; but such person, or persons, I will endeavour to comfort and satisfy, when I shall be delivered from this prison, as much inferior to my native quality, as, I hope, above my misdemeanour. In the mean time, I lament equally, and more, this sad conjuncture, than the humble and abject condition wherein I am, and so friendly subscribe myself,

To all the English gentry, and
. .." --

Whole city of London, in all duty, A devoted servant,


Newgate, Deccmb. 8,1653.



Delivered in the Council-Chamber, upon the 4th of' July, l6i>5',

To the persons then assembled and intrusted with the supreme authority of the nation. This is a true copy, published for information, and to prevent mistakes.

Printed in the year 1654. Quarto, containing twenty-eight pages.


I SUPPOSE the summons, that hath been instrumental to bring you hither, gives you well to understand the cause of your being here. Howbeit, havingsome things to impart, which is an instrument drawn up by the consent and advice of lheprincipal officers of the army, which is a little (as we conceive) more significant than that other of summons: we have that here to tender you. And we have somewhat likewise further to say to you, for our own exoneration; and we hope it may be somewhat further to your satisfaction. And therefore, seeing you sit here somewhat uneasy, by reason of the scantness of the room, and the heat of the weather, I shall contract myself, with respect to that.

I have not thought it amiss, a little to mind you of that series of providence, wherein the Lord hitherto hath dispensed wonderful things to these nations, from the beginning of our troubles to this very day. If I should look much backward, we might remember the state of affairs as they were before the short, and that which was the last parliament. In what a posture the things of this nation stood, doth so well, I presume, occur to all your memories and knowledges, that I shall not need to look so far backward, nor yet to the beginning of those hostile actions that passed between the King that was, and the then parliament. And indeed, should I begin this labour, the things, that would fall necessarily before you, would rather be fit for a history, than for a discourse, at this present.

But thus far we may look back. You very well know, after divers turnings of affairs, it pleased God, much about the midsi of this war, to winnow, as I may so say, the forces of this nation; and to put them into the hands of men of other principles than those that did engage at first. By what strange providences that also was brought about, would ask more time than is allotted me, to remember you of. Indeed, there are stories that do recite those transactions, and give narratives of mattir of fact, But those things wherein the life and power of them lay; those strange windings and turnings of providence, those very great appearances of God, in crossing and thwarting the designs of men, that he might raise up a poor and a contemptible company of men, neither versed in military affairs, nor having much natural propensity to them, even through the owning of a principle of godliness, of religion: Which so soon as it came to be owned, the state of affairs put upon that foot of account, how God blessed them, and all undertakings, by the risingof that most improbable, despicable, contemptible means; for that we must for ever own, you very well know.

What the several successes have been, is not fit to mention at this time neither; though I must confess I thought to have enlarged myself upon this subject, forasmuch as the considering the works of God, and the operation of his hands, isa principal part of our duty, and a great encouragement to the strengthening of our hands, and of our faith for that which is behind. And then having given us those marvellous dispensations, amongst other ends, forthat was a most principal end, as to us, in this revolution of affairs, and issues of those successes God was pleased to give this nation, and the authority that then stood, were very great things brought about; besides those dints that were upon those nations and places where they were carried on, even in the civil affairs, to the bringing offenders to justice, even the greatest; to the bringing the state of this government to the name, at least, of a commonwealth 5 to the searching and sifting of all places and persons; the King removed, and brought to justice, and many great ones with him; the House of Peers laid aside; the House of Commons, the representatives of the people of England, itself, winnowed, sifted, and brought to a handful, as you may very well remember.

And truly, God would not rest there (for, by the way, although it be fit for us to intitle our failings and miscarriages to ourselves, yet the gloriousness of the work may well be attributed to God himself, and may be called his strange work.)

You may remember well, that, at the change of the government, there was not an end of our troubles, although that year were such things transacted, as indeed made it to be the most memorable year (I mean 1648) that ever this nation saw; so many insurrections, invasions, secret designs, open and publick attempts, quashed in so short a time, and this by the very signal appearances of God himself, I hope we shall never forget.

You know also, as I said before, that as the effect of that memorable year 1648 was to lay the foundation of bringing delinquents to punishment; so it was of the change of the government. Although it be true, jf we had time to speak, the carriages of some in trust, in most eminent trust, was such, as would have frustrated to us the hopes of all our undertakings, had not God miraculously prevented: I mean, by that closure that would have been endeavoured by the King, whereby we should have put into his hands all that cause and interest we had opposed, and had nothing to have secured us, but a little piece of paper.

But things going on, how it pleased the Lord to keep this nation in exercise, both at sea and land; and what God wrought in Ireland and Scotland, you likewise know, until the Lord had finished all that trouble, upon the matter, by the marvellous salvation wrought at Worcester.

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