When you pour your morning tea, you’re participating in a tradition with surprising origins. The British obsession with tea owes much to a Portuguese princess who stepped off a boat in 1662, asked for a cup of tea, and received only confused stares—followed by an apologetic offer of beer.

In this episode of the Anglotopia Podcast, host Jonathan Thomas speaks with historian Sophie Shoreland about her new book The Lost Queen, which recounts the remarkable story of Catherine of Braganza—the wife of Charles II, who transformed British culture while navigating a court filled with scandal, intrigue, and her husband’s notorious mistresses.

A Queen Lost to History

Sophie discovered Catherine at the National Portrait Gallery, surrounded by paintings of Charles II’s mistresses. The arrangement raised immediate questions: why was this queen relegated to the company of her rivals? What had she done—or failed to do—to earn such treatment?

Wikipedia provided an initial, dispiriting answer: Catherine had “failed as a queen because she was barren.” The dismissive verdict seemed cruel and simplistic. Queens had wielded enormous power throughout history; childlessness alone couldn’t reduce Catherine to failure.

The reality, Sophie’s research revealed, was far more complex. Catherine navigated impossible circumstances with remarkable skill, influencing British culture in ways that persist centuries later. Her “failure” looks different when you understand what she accomplished against what she faced.

Portugal’s Strategic Princess

Catherine was born in 1638 during Portugal’s struggle for independence from Spanish rule. Her father, João, was content with music and hunting; her mother, Luísa, burned with political ambition. When Catherine was just two years old, Luísa deployed her as emotional leverage, asking João whether he would deny his daughter’s future opportunities by refusing to lead the independence movement.

The tactic worked. João became king, but Portugal’s independence required military support it couldn’t provide alone. Marriage alliance became an essential strategy, and Catherine became the instrument of that strategy. Her dowry would include Bombay and Tangier—territories that would help shape the British Empire—plus an enormous cash payment.

For Portugal, the marriage secured English military support against Spain. For England, it provided wealth, territory, and connection to Portuguese trading networks. For Catherine, it meant leaving everything she knew for a court whose language she didn’t speak and whose culture violated everything her strict Catholic upbringing had taught her.

Restoration England’s Cultural Shock

Catherine arrived in Restoration England—a society deliberately reinventing itself after the austere Puritan interregnum. Manners were everything; politeness had become a way of navigating post-Civil War tensions without reigniting conflict.

The contrast with Portuguese formality was jarring. Charles II’s court was sophisticated but louche, dominated by his many mistresses and the wit of courtiers like the Earl of Rochester. Catherine’s conservative clothes, her Portuguese attendants, and her strict religious observance marked her as an outsider.

Charles’s principal mistress, Barbara Palmer (Countess of Castlemaine), posed the most immediate challenge. Charles insisted Barbara become one of Catherine’s ladies of the bedchamber—a position of intimate attendance that would require Catherine to endure her rival’s constant presence.

Catherine initially resisted, triggering furious arguments. But when Charles essentially threatened to send her back to Portugal—which would devastate her country’s military alliance—she surrendered. The public reconciliation with Barbara demonstrated Catherine’s political intelligence: she chose humiliation over destruction.

The Tea Revolution

That first request for tea, met with confusion and beer, marked the beginning of something transformative. Catherine had grown up drinking tea, imported to Portugal through its Asian trading networks. England had barely heard of it.

Tea in 1662 was rare, expensive, and associated with medicine rather than pleasure. Catherine changed that. As queen, her preferences became fashion. What she consumed, the aristocracy wanted to consume. Her tea-drinking spread through elite circles and eventually to the broader population.

Sophie notes the gendered dimension: coffee drinking had established itself in the all-male environment of coffeehouses. Tea, popularized by a woman and appropriate for domestic consumption, offered women a fashionable beverage they could enjoy at home. The tea culture that now seems quintessentially British has Portuguese and feminine origins.

Baroque Arts and Catholic Faith

Catherine’s cultural influence extended beyond tea. She arrived with Portuguese musicians performing in the then-unfamiliar Baroque style. English diarists initially found the sound strange—”they sing very ill,” one complained. Within years, Baroque music had become fashionable.

Her chapel at Somerset House became one of London’s best venues for hearing music. The religious setting served double duty: Catherine hoped that exposure to beautiful Catholic worship might soften Protestant hearts. Her faith was genuine and fervent; she saw cultural influence as serving evangelical purposes.

She also patronized visual arts, commissioning portraits that departed from the heavy-lidded sensuality then fashionable at court. Her preferred painter, Jacob Huysmans, depicted her with religious symbolism—angels, references to her namesake St. Catherine of Alexandria—that proclaimed her piety and royal dignity.

Surviving Scandal and Accusation

Catherine’s position seemed perpetually precarious. Her failure to produce an heir—despite multiple pregnancies that ended in miscarriage—left the succession uncertain and her value to Charles questionable. Calls for divorce periodically arose; Charles could set her aside and marry a fertile Protestant.

Charles refused, citing Catherine’s uncomplaining tolerance of his mistresses. She had sacrificed her dignity; he would not sacrifice her entirely. The bargain was Faustian but functional.

The Popish Plot of 1678 posed greater danger. Anti-Catholic hysteria, fueled by fabricated accusations from Titus Oates, swept England. Catholics were arrested, tried, and executed on minimal evidence. Catherine herself was accused of plotting to poison the king.

Charles’s protection saved her. He publicly displayed confidence in her innocence, driving with her through London and dining with her conspicuously. “The wife has become a mistress,” one observer noted—Catherine’s stock rose as Charles demonstrated loyalty.

Queens and the Boroughs of New York

One discovery particularly delighted Sophie: Queens, the New York City borough, was named after Catherine. When the English took New Amsterdam in 1664 and renamed it New York after Charles’s brother James (then Duke of York), the surrounding areas received royal names as well. Kings (now Brooklyn) honored Charles; Queens honored Catherine.

The connection has been disputed by some historians who offer no alternative explanation for a name given during Catherine’s reign. Sophie finds the denial puzzling—there simply wasn’t another queen it could have referenced.

Return to Portugal

When Charles died in 1685, Catherine remained in England through his brother James’s brief, troubled reign. Only in 1692 did she return to Portugal, where she served as regent during her brother’s illness and played a crucial diplomatic role in maintaining the Anglo-Portuguese alliance.

In Portugal, she’s remembered and celebrated. Statues honor her; her role in national history is recognized. The contrast with English amnesia is striking. The woman who brought tea to Britain, who survived scandal and accusation with her dignity intact, who navigated an impossible court with remarkable skill—she’s been largely forgotten by the country she served as queen.

Sophie’s book aims to correct that erasure. Catherine of Braganza deserves recognition not for what she failed to do but for everything she accomplished in circumstances that would have destroyed a lesser figure.

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Want to learn more about this forgotten queen and her lasting influence? Listen to the full episode of the Anglotopia Podcast wherever you get your podcasts.