When I was a child we would often visit the smallish Museum of History in Tacoma because it was near where my grandmother had rental
properties. Why did we so eagerly await
those visits? Because it HAD A
MUMMY. Now, this mummy was by itself in a case and there
was no context for it. But it thrilled
us!!! (Apparently in the late 1800s a
Tacoman purchased it during his world
travels.) AND if you went downstairs,
there was a real covered wagon and the (now stuffed) ox that pulled it,
which belonged to Ezra Meeker, a local
pioneer. I was always a little disappointed
that he was not stuffed and with her, to complete the vignette. (The museum has now grown up and has moved
and is much more sophisticated than it was back then.)
But the museum left its mark on me and I find it difficult
to pass up any museum, especially small
ones! The large and “important” museums
can take your breath away….seeing the Rosetta Stone in the British Museum, for
example, was a pinnacle in my lifetime
of museum experiences. The new
Acropolis Museum in Athens is stunning. Yet I
have found that the smaller it is, the quirkier, and hence potentially a
treasure. I love quirky.
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| See? A little hodgepodge of things. I think the candelabra is a treasure. |
An example is a tiny little four room museum on a little side street in
Ajaccio, Corsica, A Bandera. This museum
covers about 10,000 years of history of this island, which otherwise doesn’t let you forget the
Bonaparte connection. It was kind of
nice to go into a place that didn’t have Napolean as the complete focus. When you enter and pay your pittance of an
entrance fee, you are handed a stapled and typewritten description of each room, which is quite helpful if you speak French. (Shopworn too because they ask you to return
it as you leave.) But people like me,
who took Spanish or (fill in your own language) were able to figure out a lot
of what we were seeing because of the very liberal use of….dioramas. Some elaborate, some looking more like a
school project, yet all very earnest and endearing.
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| My favorite of the dioramas depicting the dreaded Berbers from Africa attacking Corsica. |
I think my favorite small museum of all, however, is one
that has a very strict focus, coaches and all of the related paraphernalia. Sorry, guys, I don’t mean Don James or John Wooden or
Alonzo Stagg. I mean inventive and grand
and glorious horse, mule, or people pulled coaches, most of which were
commissioned and used by the royals of Europe
during the second half of the second millennium. (Are we in the third millennium already? My, that went by quickly.)
This is the National Coach Museum in Lisbon and I would say buy the guide book before you enter, as there are lots of little tidbits included that will make this even more intriguing for you. Currently, the museum is in it's original location which, in it's prior life, was the riding stable for the royals. It is adjacent to the presidents' residence. It is moving very soon to a new, modern location kitty-corner and don't ask the employees how they feel about it if you don't want to see a grumpy face. I agree, the current setting feels just right for the contents.
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| This is the oldest and perhaps least cared-for coach in the museum. However it was the only one in which you can actually see the loo, the small circular shaped marking in the wooden seat, normally covered with a piece of fitted wood Truly fit for royalty! |
From here it goes onward and upward to some of the most glorious coaches you can imagine. It makes the one used by Charles and Diana some years ago look like a VW Bug in comparison. You could just hear the orders that came from the Kings and Queens: "What we want can be defined by one word, OSTENTATIOUS!" I loved imagining the titled personages of the past who occupied these fabulously painted and ornamented conveyances.
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| By the early 1700s, coaches had become true works of art and, in many cases, told a story. This coach is one of 16 Embassy coaches used in 1716 sent to the current Pope in Rome. We are looking at the rear of the coach. The central figure is Lisbon, and she is being crowned by Fame. To her left is Abundance, holding an overflowing cornucopia. Below Lisbon's feet, a winged dragon, a symbol of the Royal House, is breaking a Moslem Crescent while being watched by shackled slaves, representing Africa and Asia. In other words, "Go Christianity!" |
Some of the intricate detail on parts of the coaches is easily missed if you don't know what to look for.....
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| This coach was built in the early 1700s but was used as late as the 1800s to transport foreign dignitaries. Why am I showing you the wheel? If you have great eyes or a magnifying glass you can make out the 12 Signs of the Zodiac. I was able to spot Cancer, mine, by leaning waaaay forward over the protective rope. |
What, you might ask, would a tiny little thing like this hold? This late 18th Century vehicle was built to transport a religious statue during a specific procession between two places south of Lisbon.
(Good thing the taxpayers didn't have anything to say about this...there were others built too.)
I could go on and on with the gorgeous, ornate, over-the-top coaches in the museum, which makes you suspect that Europe had, a few hundred years ago, contests to see who could build the most outrageous coaches for the silliest uses! There are over 50 of them here. Some were built for the little princes and princesses so they could go about the gardens of their summer estates. Some were for processions only. And some were, shockingly, simply for travel!
I saw Litters, Berlins, Coupes, Cabiolets, Chaises, Sedan Chairs, learning a new vocabulary along the way. We saw the accoutrements of a well-kept coach including uniforms, musical instruments, weapons, livery, saddles, stirrups, and paintings of the various rulers and royals. This museum definitely had surprise and delight in store. Don't plan to rush through this!
And now, the ironic coach. It is rather somber. Could they have known that tragedy was around the corner when it was built? Further irony revealed in the caption....
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| The bullet holes tell a grim story: in 1908, King Carlos I and his son were assassinated in the streets of Lisbon. How ironic that this museum was created by his wife, Queen Amelia, in 1905. |
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