On A Roll: Part I - Wheels of Fortune

It's not incidental that "story" and "history" look and sound quite similar. Both words derive from a Greek root that can be loosely translated as "obtaining knowledge through research", and that research results in history being a collection of stories. Most heartbreaking stories would focus on wars, revolutions and similar social upheavals, while awe-inspiring ones would celebrate seminal discoveries, scientific breakthroughs and daring explorations that benefited humanity as a whole. However, life doesn't consist of groundbreaking events and critical junctures alone. Most of it rolls on at a slower pace resulting in mundane challenges and gradual changes. It took human beings millennia to upgrade animal hides they had worn to protect themselves from bitter cold to high end custom-fitted clothing items - or to replace woven mats and random blocks of wood filling their caves with modern furniture in a custom-built house. There is a story behind each and every development of that kind, and most of those stories deserve to be told. National Coach Museum in Lisbon tells one such story.

When it comes to Middle Ages, the title of this entry can be interpreted literally: it would take a fortune to get access to most types of wheels. For centuries, some objects had been related to - yet different from - one's status, with a few exceptions. The most famous exception is arguably the colour purple that only Emperors and rulers of a similar status could wear. The usage of wheels wasn't formally regimented but the cost of iron-rimmed wagon wheels was utterly prohibitive for anybody but the power elite of any given country. The fanciest wheels - and everything attached to them - naturally belonged to the ruler.

Modern car owners would sometimes project their personality onto their vehicles. It's safe to presume that medieval rulers did the same - more so, because their means of transportation weren't mass-produced and bought from a dealership but rather handcrafted by the best artisans of their time. The most immediate consequence of such expertise combined with dedicated efforts was that many royal coaches looked like mobile art exhibitions. Some of them combined painting, sculpture and bas relief

Simpler coaches had their doors decorated with mythological or bucolic motives

Full-fledged art objects, some carriages also served as a social lubricant by facilitating relationships between both individuals and countries. Meant as personal gifts, they were bespoke to reflect the symbolism associated with the receiver and/or hir personal taste - as did a coach commissioned by Emperor Joseph I of Austria on the occasion of his sister Maria Ana's marriage with Joao V of Portugal in 1708.

To quote some of the official description provided by the museum, "...on the rear panel is represented a painting allusive to the virtues of the Queen: Truth, Firmness and Fidelity..."

While it's easy to get swept away by the refined beauty of handpicked coaches and by the artistry of their creators, it's worth remembering that all the carriages are highly practical objects, and they were created with a very particular purpose in mind - that of traveling. And medieval travel was anything but quick.

In 1619, it took King Felipe of both Portugal and Spain almost ten full weeks to travel between the two of his capitals, and it was not by a cruise liner, also known as "a floating city ship" where one might find comfort and privacy, along with company and entertainment - and a whole host of activities on offer, to boot. He traveled by carriage the interior of which might have looked somewhat similar to this

Keeping in mind that the above picture showcases the best of what was available to one of the (if not the) most powerful individuals on the planets of his time, one might better understand why a picture is often worth a thousand words - and just how much progress the human race has made in mere 400 years!