The April, 1974 Revolution in Portugal has been best represented in Maria de Medeiros' film "Capitães de Abril." Maria, at the time a perceptive child, perfectly captured the romantic enthusiasm, the naïve sincerity of the youthful soldiers who were the protagonists of the initial coup, as well as the explosive joy of the crowds that surged around them like a gigantic wave of hope and — yes, love. The last scenes of the film, however, give a bittersweet indication of what was to come on the following day: the ebbing of confidence and fervour, leaving the earnest crowds stranded on the unpleasant ground of new realities. Now came the time of politicians, and they poured in, hundreds of them, maybe thousands, carriage-loads from the Sud-Express train , to build, as they could, a country capable of entering the bright new world of the 21^st Century, joining the European Union and apply the united standards of democracy and market economy. The Portuguese nation, collectively, displayed great composure and common sense, and the politicians, collectively, succeeded in their enterprise, as everybody can witness. They had, however, a hard day of it, and Maria Pia's interests and plans never topped their agenda.

In fact, Maria Pia had fewer chances to become Queen Maria III after the Revolution than ever before. During the first year and a half, it was a total confusion. Power-happy soldiers held centre-stage, with the crowd alternately cheering and hooting. The Communists were outflanked on their left by extremist organizations, some of them spontaneous, some of them said to have benefited from a great anti-Communist power which need not be named. The Socialists were divided as usual. At Centre-Right, led by former members of the liberal opposition within the National Union, two parties were slowly emerging. A small Popular Monarchic Party (PPM) waved blue and white flags in an ocean of red, with no real chance of being heard. The only space for the Monarchists to develop was on the right, and that was where Duarte Nuno was. In November, 1975 a clever coup put an end to the confusion and, in June, 1976, the Second Portuguese Republic came into being, with Mário Soares as President and U.S. Ambassador Frank Carlucci as Godfather.

Duarte Pio accepted the constitutional changes, and was generally accepted as the legitimate "head of the House of Braganza," appearing in symbolic rallies, prepared to be, should the people call him, the pretender to an hypothetical kingdom, and, to all purposes, perfectly integrated into modern Portugal. Not so Maria Pia. She never admitted that the Assembly elected to draw a constitution, the referendum called up to vote it, and the Parliament elected to implement it, had the power to change any part of the 1834 Act. Which may be a surprising attitude, from someone who had impressed Mário Soares with her liberal ideas, and who had so liberally supported Humberto Delgado in his fight for free elections.

She was all the more disappointed with the new regime as the Government made no move towards restitution of the Bragança heritage. It had to be expected, of course: the weighty Gold reserve hoarded up by Salazar had to be sold to rescue the over-evaluated currency, the escudo, that fell down 50% in the first months, and went on sliding until it stabilized at something under 30% of its original value. Several voices were heard from the Left to demand nationalization of the Braganza Trust. Whatever favourable impression the Duchess might have been made on Mário Soares, now President, it could never be balanced against the practical interests of the Nation's exchequer. Frustrated and embittered, she vowed revenge.

Once more, she started procedures, before the Portuguese courts, against Duarte Pio, against the Portuguese government, and against the Braganza Trust. She chose as her attorney a remarkable person, Dr Fernando Luso Soares. The high profile case was publicized as "D. Maria Pia Duchess of Braganza vs. D. Duarte Pio, Lord of the Manor of Santar" and the Duchess's contention was, again, that her opponent had no right to call himself Braganza, much less to claim the Duchy or the Leadership of the Royal cause, and that he could only be styled after the house of Santar, a largish country seat bequeathed to him by its last owner. This was the last legal action by Maria Pia to have her claims admitted in Portugal, and the beginning of her tragedy. Not only she did not win the case, but she had to suffer a terrible blow, which in some ways she had brought on herself. After the turmoil of the Revolution had quieted down, the apparatus of justice moved on, with surprising quickness, to check whatever acts had been passed in the euphoria of recovered freedom, without following the due procedure. Which was, of course, the case of her brand new birth certificate. So the Supreme Court of Justice ordered all mention of King Carlos to be struck off from the register, and, from 1979 onwards, she appears under her simple given name of Maria Pia, with no mention at all of the identity of her father and mother.

The Duchess was now past seventy and the shock certainly disturbed her. She was, however, made of strong stuff and in the subsequent years she continued her own investigations, to gather unmistakable proof of the validity of her claims. Duarte Pio's supporters had made several assertions casting doubt even on D. Carlos being her natural father, on the basis that "reconstitution of the papers destroyed in the Spanish civil war had been easy for her." One may wonder at the reason why, if such reconstitution had been so easy as to be dubious, it had gone almost unchallenged for many years. The judges of the Sacred Rote themselves had wondered, in 1972, "why it should be now that the plaintiff be so eager about the reputation of king Carlos I, so long after his death, and after long peaceful possession of her statute by the defendant" (…quomodo actor nunc tantum sollicitum se praebeat de vitanda infamia Regis Caroli I, post tot annos ab eiusdem morte, et post pacificam possessionem status personae, a muliere conventa adeptam). Perhaps the determination had always been there, and simply gathered momentum with time. Whatever the reason for it, we must now examine its object. That is, if the certificate of baptism registered in the Madrid parish of Our Lady of Carmel and St Louis is, or is not, a bona fide duplicate.

Every document mentioned in this story has been so often copied, re-copied, transcribed, re-transcribed, by Maria Pia, her successive lawyers and representatives of any kind, that the bewildered investigator is naturally diffident. All the more so as such copies and transcriptions are also successive and often reciprocal translations between Portuguese, Spanish, and Italian, as the translators were not always aware of the importance of each word, and as these two languages are so closely connected, while so different, that lexical accuracy alone does not ensure exact translation of meaning. In all fairness, one should always try to stick to the earliest possible version. Referring to the certificate of baptism of Maria Pia, this means the first reconstruction, dated July 28, 1939. We are looking presently at a photocopy of this document, and of course we have no reason to suggest this photocopy might be the work of some artist. The document, much creased and slightly torn, appears to have been folded in eight, probably to be kept in a wallet or in an envelope. It says that "from the register of baptisms no. 1, ff… it is deduced that Ma.Pia de Sajonia-Coburgo, born on March 13 of the year 1907 in Lisbon, daughter of D. Carlos de Sajonia-Coburgo and Saboya, de la Casa de Braganza de Portugal yu de Dña. Maria Amelia Laredó y Murcia, natives of Lisbon( Portugal) and Cametá, Province of Pará (Brazil) has been baptized on April 15 of the aforesaid year in the Church of San Fermin de los Navarros" . One line missing may be reconstructed (from subsequent transcripts) as giving as paternal grand-parents "D. Luiz de Saxonia-Coburgo-Bragança and Dña Ma.Pia de Saboya, natives of Lisbon (Portugal) and Turin (Italy)". Then come the maternal grand-parents, clearly indicated as "D. Armando Mauricio Laredó y Laredó and Dña Maria Amelia Murcia y Berhen, natives of Sta. Ma. De Belem and Cametá (Brazil), and the godfather and godmother: "Sr Conde de Monteverde y Dña Alicia da Silva". The document bears the visa of the Vicar-General of the Bishopric of Madrid, whose signature can be read, from a later example, as Casimiro Morcillo.

Father Casimiro Morcillo Gonzalez was Archbishop of Madrid-Alcalá from 1964 to his death in 1971. He made a written statement in February, 1970, to the Supreme Ecclesiastical court of Rome, which can be read as supporting Maria Pia's claim, but is in fact a cautious demonstration of his own good faith. Archbishop Morcillo explains that, in 1939, he met Don Antonio Goicoechea y Cusculluela, a former minister of monarchical governments, then Governor of the Bank. Goicoecha consulted him about the procedure of safeguarding and transcribing Maria Pia's act of baptism. Goicoecha explained that the person concerned was an illegitimate daughter of king Carlos, and showed the priest a document written in Portuguese beginning with those words: "I, The King" that seemed authentic from its appearance and the seals it carried. He showed also a much creased act of baptism where the name of the child appeared as Maria Pia de Saxe Coburgo. On this evidence, P. Morcillo told Goicoechea that, in his view, he would have no difficulty in registering the act anew, since the original register had been burnt with the parish books.

The Archbishop's statement goes no farther as to indicate that the Church had reasonable grounds to accept Goicoechea's word and evidence. In fact, it transfers to Goicoechea the burden of proof. There is, however, a curious discrepancy, that cannot be overlooked: the parish in which Maria Pia is said to have been baptized is named in this document as "Our Lady of Carmel and St Louis" - and not "San Fermin de los Navarros." Both churches are within walking distance of each other in the centre of Madrid, this is true, but they are not close together, and in very different neighbourhoods. Carmen y S. Luis is close to the Puerta del Sol, while S. Fermin is close to the Paseo de la Castellana, in a more modern part of the town. So there can be absolutely no confusion. However, both churches are mentioned in the 1939 certificate: "N.S. del Carmen y S. Luis" as the registering parish and "S. Fermin de los Navarros" as the actual shrine where the baptism was given. It is possible, either that S. Fermin had no register, or that, after the war, the chore of reconstitution of registry for the centre of Madrid was given to N.S. del Carmen. It is not really material. It is, however, one more of the many irritating facts that do not fall into place easily in this case, naturally feeding incredulity.

In fact, everything hinges on the testimony of Goicoechea, who died in 1953, since he was the one who approached P. Morcillo and obtained reconstruction of the baptism act in 1939, and he is said to have organized the ceremony itself in 1907. One could hardly find a more respectable person and a more trustworthy witness. Don António Goicoechea y Cusculluela, born in Barcelona in 1876, was a lawyer and an historian, as well as a politician. He served several terms in both houses of Parliament, as well under king Alfonso XIII as under the Republic. A convinced partisan of a constitutional monarchy, he approved of General Sanjurjo's failed coup in 1932. He was Governor of the Bank of Portugal from 1938 until 1952. A respected scholar, a man of political fidelity, a man trusted by his friends, who belonged to the restricted circle of the King's political advisers, a man whose personal integrity was never questioned, that's who D. António Goicoechea was. Such a man's testimony deserves to be scrutinized. Some believe there is reasonable doubt concerning the exact nature of this testimony, and its material whereabouts. In 1970, Archbishop Morcillo recalled that Goicoechea had told him "something" in 1939. Not even Perry Mason could have this accepted as evidence anywhere. The church records, however, appear to have something more definite:

On Sept. 14, 1984, Don José Luis Guemes y Ubierna, chief of the records office of the Archdiocese of Madrid Alcalá, certified that, in the baptismal file of Doña Maria Pia de Sajonia Coburgo, there is an official copy of a letter, certified and authentified by Don António Goicoechea, in which king Carlos I himself appears to admit his paternity of the child. It would simplify matters considerably if one could see the letter itself, and if it could be submitted to normal identification tests. The last person to have seen the original, however, seems to have been Goicoechea, now dead for fifty years. Putting together the Archbishop's recollections and the Chief Archivist's certificate, one may reasonably accept that there WAS a document purporting to be a copy of a letter from King Carlos I, the authenticity of which Goicoechea had no doubt at all, as he accepted Don Carlos' letter as proof that the child baptized in Madrid on April 13, 1907, was truly the King's daughter. We may find things are not quite as easy as that when we get to analysing the text itself — if and when we accept it as genuine.

The Archbishop's statement had been written with such elaborate caution, that doubt could be legitimately cast upon the sincerity of the document in the possession of the Chief Archivist. Was the so-called copy of the King's letter really Goicoechea's work? The photocopy was brought up by Maria Pia before Don Enrique Gimenez Arnau y Gran, notary public in Madrid, on November, 11, 1958, who personally recognized Goicoechea's writing and signature, and had another lawyer, Don Luis Maria de Zunzunegui y Moreno, testify that "he had no doubt whatsoever about the authenticity of the signature of Don Antonio Goicoechea y Cusculluela" and that, "from his professional association with Don Antonio Goicoechea, he was certain that the document that had been photocopied had been a copy taken straight from the original, compared with it, and signed by Don Antonio himself."

Moreover, at the time of the Roman lawsuit, Maria Pia called in two witnesses whose testimony can be seen as positive: people who had all their lives been close to Goicoechea and could corroborate the story.

The first witness was Don Antonio's own niece, Doña Angeles Estebán Goicoechea, viúda de Flaquer, who said that "her uncle had been present at the christening in 1907 and had personally taken care of the registering" and that "he had always had security that she was (...) the acknowledged natural daughter of Dom Carlos I of Portugal."

The second witness was Don Estanislao Pinacho Aresti, who had been Senior Clerk to Don Antonio Goicoechea. Pinacho definitely remembered that, "from the beginning of his career," he had been informed of "the existence, birth and christening of the Princess, by Don Antonio Maura Muntaner and Don Antonio Goicoechea." He moreover explained that, ex officio, he had often handled documents related to her affairs, and, among others, "the Royal Charter, written and signed in his own hand by King Dom Carlos," acknowledging Maria Pia as the King's daughter.

Both statements, of the widow Flaquer and Dr Pinacho, were notarised in February, 1970, and produced before the Ecclesiastical courts. Together with the Zunzunegui deposition and Archbishop Morcillo's letter, they constitute a reasonable array of presumptions, that Don Antonio Goicoecha, the impeccable lawyer and statesman, accepted as a genuine letter the following:

I, the King, (EU, El-Rei) to all those who may see the present letter, I make it known that, on account of the circumstances and qualities of the most noble lady Dona Amelia de Laredo, and wishing to give her testimony of my Royal consideration, acknowledge as my well-beloved Daughter the child whom the above-mentioned Lady has given life to (a quem dêra luz a mencionada senhora) in the Parish of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Lisbon, on the 13th of March, 1907. Having been considered and examined by myself all that has been inscribed above, I authorize and pray the ecclesiastical authorities to pour over her the baptismal waters (ponham-lhe as agues baptismais) and give her the names of Maria and Pia, to the end that she may be called by my name and enjoy from now on the use of this name with the honours, prerogatives, rank, obligations and advantages of the princes (com as honras, prerogatives, preeminências, obrigações e vantagem dos Infantes) of the House of Bragança of Portugal. In proof and confirmation of the above, this present letter signed by myself, sealed with the Great Seal of my arms.

This stunning document has served and serves as the basis for the claims of Maria Pia, of her descendants, and now of Mr Poidimani — Don Rosario Poidimani — to the Duchy of Braganza and royal honours. It certainly needs to be examined in depth — and has been by many distinguished scholars and experts who, as usual with experts, disagreed on its meaning and on its legal effects.

For Maria Pia and her supporters, there could be no double meaning in the letter written in her father's own hand, signed and sealed by him, owning her as a princess of the name of the Kings of Portugal, Maria Pia de Saxónia Coburgo Bragança, natural heir to the Crown and the Duchy after the death of her two half-brothers, D. Luis-Filipe in 1908 and D. Manuel II in 1932.

Those who were not prepared to hail Queen Maria III — and we must say there was a good many of them — the King's letter was a fiction, a fantasy, perhaps even a forgery, and Goicoechea — and all others after him — had been used as a cat's paw by a clever adventuress, a sometime stage artist whose real name was Hilda de Toledano.