“A stone fallen from the Moon… or elsewhere” – The Bendegó meteorite, part 2
Bem, olá novamente, amiga leitora ou amigo leitor.
If you do not mind, my reading friend, let us resume our examination of the fascinating history of the Bendegó meteorite.
That interplanetary visitor left the Bendegó site, province of Bahia, empire of Brazil, on 25 November 1887. And yes, the cart it was on was pulled by oxen most of the time.
Incidentally, even if only initially, Lieutenant Commander José Carlos de Carvalho and his close associates showed real condescension towards the local men who plucked the meteorite from the bed of the Bendegó stream before placing it on its cart and pulling it towards the plains which overlook said bed, with the help of the oxen.
Scientists among the members of the team examined the vegetation encountered along the way. They also noted the presence of fossil bones of large mammals, Megatheriidae and Gomphotheriidae / Mammutidae, in other words ground sloths and mastodons. Those members of the South American megafauna, comparable in size and weight to an Asian elephant, disappeared around 12 000 years ago.
And yes, the presence of our species in South America was undoubtedly not unrelated to the decline, or even extinction of that megafauna, which also included giant armadillos and giant bears as well as horses, sabre-toothed cats and camels, but I digress. Apologies, but the fact is that paleontology fascinates me, and this since my earliest childhood.
It went without saying that de Carvalho’s team had to frequently improve, widen, even open the route that the cart had to follow. And yes, it built many temporary bridges, perhaps a hundred, including one of 50 or so metres (165 or so feet). The team also had to face upward and downward slopes which were sometimes quite impressive. It was then necessary to use pulley systems attached to shafts.
During one descent in particular, toward the end of December 1887, de Carvalho had a real scare. A tree having given way, cables in turn gave way. The cart immediately picked up speed. The meteorite having slid towards the front of the vehicle, the latter somersaulted, which ended its journey. I kid you not. 6 550 or so kilogrammes (14 450 or so pounds) of rock and metal somersaulting. Wah!
Fortunately, no one was injured. I can only hope that no ox perished.
However, it was from that day onward that heavy rains began to fall very frequently. Axles broke 4 times and the meteorite fell from the cart 7 times. In one case, given the lack of resources allowing it to repair a broken axle, the team remained stuck on site for almost 4 weeks, in January and February 1888.
The Bendegó meteorite and its cart in the lagoon of Giboia, province of Bahia, empire of Brazil, March 1888. It fell from said cart into that lagoon at some point. Worse still, one of the cart’s axles broke not far away. José Carlos de Carvalho, Meteorito de Bendegó: Relatório apresentado ao Ministerio da Agricultura, Commercio e Obras publicas e a Sociedade de Geographia do Rio de Janeiro sobre a remoção do meteorito de Bendengó do sertão da provincia da Bahia para o Museu Nacional (Rio de Janeiro: Imprensa Nacional, 1888), not paginated.
The cart and meteorite arrived on 14 May 1888 at the Jacurici train station, in the village of Vila Bela de Santo Antonio das Queimadas, province of Bahia, empire of Brazil, after 170 or so days of travel.
Please note that the distance covered was 113.5 or so kilometres (70.5 or so miles), which corresponded to less than 670 metres (less than 2 200 feet) per day. Wah!
Before I forget, the Bendegó site and Jacurici train station were 65 or so kilometres (40 or so miles) apart, as the crow flew. There had obviously been many detours.
Loading the Bendegó meteorite onto a flat wagon of the Estrada de Ferro da Bahia ao São Francisco, Alagoinhas train station, Province of Bahia, empire of Brazil, May 1888. José Carlos de Carvalho, Meteorito de Bendegó: Relatório apresentado ao Ministerio da Agricultura, Commercio e Obras publicas e a Sociedade de Geographia do Rio de Janeiro sobre a remoção do meteorito de Bendengó do sertão da provincia da Bahia para o Museu Nacional (Rio de Janeiro: Imprensa Nacional, 1888), not paginated.
The cart and meteorite left the Jacurici train station on 17 May. Yours truly presumes that that they left on some sort of flat wagon.
After 3 days spent at the Aramarys workshop mentioned in the fist part of this article, they arrived at the Alagoinhas train station, province of Bahia. The meteorite was then loaded onto a flat wagon of the Estrada de Ferro da Bahia ao São Francisco. The general director of the firm which operated that railway, Bahia and San Francisco Railway Company, the English surveyor / engineer Richard Tiplady, followed that loading with great interest.
The meteorite left Alagoinhas on 22 May and arrived at the train station of São Salvador da Bahia, province of Bahia, otherwise known as the Estação Calçada, rather later in the day.
By the way, the Jacurici and São Salvador da Bahia train stations were almost 370 kilometres (almost 230 miles) apart. The train is certainly a good technology. A steam train, in that case.
Exhibited at the Estação Calçada from 22 to 28 June, the meteorite was transferred to the Arsenal of Marinha do Estado da Bahia, in São Salvador da Bahia, in order to prepare for its transport to Rio de Janeiro, province of Rio de Janeiro, empire of Brazil.
A trader from São Salvador da Bahia, Claudio Vincenzi, then offered the authorities to transport the precious meteorite free of charge aboard one of the ships operated by the small shipping company owned by his family, J.N. de Vincenzi & Filhos.
The Arlindo set sail on 2 June. The aforementioned Carvalho was on board, as was the meteorite of course.
After a few days spent in Recife de Pernambuco, province of Pernambuco, empire of Brazil, the Arlindo arrived in Rio de Janeiro on 15 June.
The failing health of Emperor Pedro II not allowing him to be there, it was the heir presumptive to the throne, the Imperial Princess Isabel Cristina Leopoldina Augusta Micaela Gabriela Rafaela Gonzaga of house Bragança e Bourbon, who welcomed the meteorite. The director of the Museu Nacional of Rio de Janeiro, the Brazilian botanist Ladislau de Souza Mello Netto, was also on site.
After spending some time at the Arsenal of Marinha da Corte, in order to take samples intended for almost 30 universities and museums in various countries (Vatican, United States, United Kingdom, Russian Empire, German Empire, France, Denmark, Canada, Austro-Hungarian Empire and Argentina for example), the meteorite was transferred to the Museu Nacional in November 1888.
By the way, the fragment sent to Canada was intended for the Geological Survey of Canada, in Ottawa, Ontario. It weighed just under 45 grammes (just under 1.6 ounce). That fragment is now part of the National Meteorite Collection of Canada.
As a reward for his work, de Carvalho became commander of a Brazilian honourary order, the Imperial Ordem da Rosa, in 1888. He was also ennobled, becoming Baron of Bendegó.
An American scientific weekly, Science, had this to say about de Carvalho and his team, in an editorial published in July 1888:
In overcoming these many and serious obstacles Mr. Carvalho and his companions gave a brilliant and practical rebuttal to the somewhat widespread, but unjust, notion among foreigners that the Brazilian character is deficient in the qualities of ingenuity, energy, and perseverance.
Wah!
That same year, the official publishing house of the Empire of Brazil published a work written by de Carvalho, Meteorito de Bendegó: Relatório apresentado ao Ministerio da Agricultura, Commercio e Obras publicas e a Sociedade de Geographia do Rio de Janeiro sobre a remoção do meteorito de Bendengó do sertão da provincia da Bahia para o Museu Nacional.
Interestingly, a French version of that work, Météorite de Bendégo : Rapport présenté au Ministre de l’Agriculture, du Commerce et des Travaux publics, et à la Société de Géographie de Rio-de-Janeiro, sur le déplacement et le transport du Météorite de Bendégo, de l’intérieur de la province de Bahia au Musée national, appeared around the same time. That version did not contain all the photographs found in the work written in Portuguese, however.
The director of the Imperial Observatório do Rio de Janeiro, the Belgian-Brazilian geodesist / astronomer Louis Ferdinand Cruls, wasted no time in studying the meteorite, helped by a close collaborator, the very versatile Franco-Brazilian engineer Henri Charles Morize.
By the way, the Bendegó meteorite was the second heaviest meteorite discovered in Brazil, a fact which remained just as true in 2024, after the Santa Catharina meteorite, a fragmented behemoth weighing around 25 000 kilogrammes (approximately 55 000 pounds), discovered in 1875, not far from Nossa Senhora da Graça do Rio São Francisco do Sul, province of Santa Catharina, empire of Brazil.
At that time, however, no one knew that it was a meteorite. The site therefore became a mine from which nickel was extracted and exported to England. It was only in 1882 that the extraterrestrial nature of the deposit was recognised, thanks to the analysis of samples by French researchers based in Paris, France. Less than 30% of the original mass of the meteorite was still found on the site, however.
That loss was all the sadder since the extraterrestrial origin of the object present at Nossa Senhora da Graça do Rio São Francisco do Sul had been considered no later than 1877, if only in France, but I digress. Again.
As you might imagine, the Bendegó meteorite was a source of pride for the Brazilian government. It would in fact use that pebble to add to the oomph of the pavilion that it got built on the site of the Exposition universelle de 1889 which was held in Paris from May to October 1889.
Well, almost. You see, the object on the ground floor of the pavilion of the Empire of Brazil was actually a wood and plaster copy of said pebble. That copy made by the staff of the aforementioned Arsenal de Marinha da Corte was shipped to Paris through the Sociedade de Geografia do Rio de Janeiro.
An organisation created in March 1888 to maximise the oomph created by the presence of the Empire of Brazil at the exhibition, the Comité franco-brésilien, really pulled out all the stops, with the blessing of Emperor Pedro II.
The Brazilian pavilion, a superb 3-story building accompanied by a greenhouse and a tasting palace, was full of samples of coins, fabrics, furniture, minerals, pharmaceutical products, animal skins, precious stones, wood, works of art, etc. Around 1 600 exhibitors were present on the site.
Would you believe that said pavilion was inaugurated in mid-June by none other than the French President, Marie François Sadi Carnot? I kid you not. A veritable troop of representatives from the exhibition and French government accompanied him.
The Brazilian Commissioner General, the Viscount of Cavalcanti, born Diogo Velho Cavalcanti de Albuquerque, a lawyer and politician, welcomed Sadi Carnot with extreme courtesy and in impeccable French. His Deputy Commissioners, the Frenchman Ernest Lourdelet, president of the Chambre syndicale des négociants-commissaires, and Baron of Santana Néri, born Frederico José de Santana Néri, a rich Brazilian scholar / amateur historian, were at his side.
Sadi Carnot and his troop obviously took a guided tour of the pavilion. The French president lingered for a long time in front of the copy of the Bendegó meteorite.
Sadi Carnot was certainly not the only head of state interested in that object. The Shah of Persia, today’s Iran, Nāser-ad-Din Ŝāh-e Qājār, examined it with great attention during his brief visit to the Brazilian pavilion in early August. Mind you, he had also examined with great attention the Eiffel Tower, officially inaugurated at the opening of the universal exhibition. Yes, yes, the 1889 one.
The Exposition universelle de 1889 having for objective the commemoration the French Revolution which had begun in May 1789, a bloody phase to say the least in the history of France and all of Europe which had led to the execution of the King of the French, in January 1793, one might wonder what the Shah had in mind during his visit.
In fact, most European countries with monarchies (Belgium, Italy, Netherlands, Portugal Spain and Sweden, not to mention the Austro-Hungarian, British, German and Russian empires) politely refused to participate in said universal exhibition.
This being said (typed?), unofficial organising committees saw to the creation of Austro-Hungarian, Belgian, British, Dutch, Italian, Portuguese, Russian, Spanish and Swedish pavilions. And yes, in more than one case, those committees could count on more or less enthusiastic unofficial support from their respective governments.
The thoroughly Prussian emperor of the German empire rejected any such support out of hand, however. And yes, Wilhelm II, born Friedrich Wilhelm Viktor Albert “Willy” of house Hohenzollern was mentioned in December 2018 and January 2020 issues of our imperial blog / bulletin / thingee.
It should be noted that two British crown colonies, New Zealand and Victoria, in Australia, had many objects on display at the Exposition universelle de 1889, whether mineral samples, dried plants, furs, stuffed animals, etc. Huge murals depicted various aspects of life in those distant lands, from agriculture and prospecting to cattle breeding and viticulture. Indeed, Victoria even offered itself the luxury of having a small pavilion where one could taste wines produced on its soil in complete peace and quiet.
And what about Canada, you ask, my patriotic reading friend? Did it participate in the Exposition universelle de 1889? A good question. A Canadian visiting Paris noted with sadness that, unlike what had happened at the universal exhibitions held in London, England, and Paris since 1851, the Canadian government had not see fit to officially participate.
What was still more provoking, added that patriot, was that the very show cases which had been paid for by Canadian taxpayers as part of the Exposition universelle de 1878, held in Paris from May to October, were now used by the Australians.
According to the Guide bleu du Figaro et du Petit Journal, in translation, “Canada is only very weakly represented in the palais des Industries diverses, which is surprising when we know the sympathies of that country for France.” That participation was likely due to Canadian firms wishing to present their products.
If I may be permitted a comment, the authors of the Guide bleu du Figaro et du Petit Journal seemed to exaggerate just a tad the extent of Canada’s sympathies towards France. In Québec, a good part of the French-speaking elites saw France as an abominable, atheist, depraved, fanatical, impious, persecutory, sectarian, ungodly or vile republic. Ow.
But back to the Canadian presence on the site of the universal exhibition.
A Québec educator / politician visiting Paris to represent the Chambre de commerce du district de Montréal in various congresses taking place in the City of Lights on the occasion of said universal exhibition had a few words to say on that.
Joseph-Xavier Perrault described in fact a Canadian presence not too far from a space occupied by the magnificent Argentinian, Bolivian, Brazilian, Chilean, Mexican and Venezuelan pavilions. It consisted of a tepee (and hut?) with a few bark canoes near which 3 costumed people, a woman and two men, apparently from Kahnawà:ke, a territory of the Mohawk First Nation located near Montréal, Québec, provided information and sold indigenous craft items to visitors who seemed a tad disconcerted.
According to Perrault, comments published in June 1899 in a well-known Montréal daily, The Montréal Daily Star, “Yes, we are represented in a most worthy manner, which will, no doubt, bring about a large extension of our commercial relations with foreign countries, and swell our immigration returns to unusual proportions.”
You can almost feel the sarcasm dripping from those words. I do not dislike sarcasm. In moderation.
Yours truly does, however, dislike a lot Perrault’s insulting remarks towards the trio of people from Kahnawà:ke, especially those concerning the lady.
Before I forget it, the efforts made by the Sociedade de Geografia do Rio de Janeiro to ship the copy of the Bendegó meteorite to Paris did not go unnoticed. It in fact received one of the numerous silver or gold medals awarded to exhibitors.
Incidentally, the director of the Museu Nacional, the aforementioned de Souza Mello Netto, offered the copy of the Bendego meteorite to a counterpart, the director of the Muséum national d’histoire naturelle, in Paris, the French chemist Edmond Frémy, even before the end of 1889. Said copy took its place in the meteorite gallery of that world-famous institution between 1889 and 1893.
After more than 4 decades spent at the Muséum national d’histoire naturelle, the copy of the Bendegó meteorite was loaned to the Palais de la Découverte of Paris, perhaps even before the official opening of that scientific museum, in June 1937.
Said museum having closed its doors for about 4 years, in August 2020, for renovation purposes, the copy was sold around November to one of the most important French hunters and collectors of meteorites. Contacted by the Muséum national d’histoire naturelle, Alain Carion agreed to give it to that institution, but back to the 1880s.
Emperor Pedro II had little time to bask in the glory that Brazil’s contribution to the Exposition universelle de 1889 might have brought him. You see, he was ousted from power in November of that same year, barely more than 2 weeks after the closing of said exhibition, and this by a coup d’état staged by officers of the Exército Imperial Brasileiro.
Anxious to make people forget Pedro II, a very popular monarch in 1889, the putschists ordered that the Museu Nacional leave the building in Rio de Janeiro where it had been for decades (1818?) and move to the Paço de São Cristóvão, the former official residence of the Brazilian imperial family, still in Rio de Janeiro. That museum 2.0 opened its doors in 1892. It was undoubtedly the most important national museum in South America.
Mind you, the fact was that the Museu Nacional had felt more and more cramped in its original building. In addition, the government did not really have the means to subsidise the construction of a brand-new building.
And yes, the Bendegó meteorite was obviously exhibited prominently in the new Museu Nacional building. In fact, it was apparently located in the center of the entrance hall which led to the exhibition rooms.
It went without saying that any personality visiting the Museu Nacional was offered the opportunity to examine the meteorite. Just think of the German-Swiss physicist who visited Rio de Janeiro in May 1925 to give a few conferences at the Universidade do Brasil. Albert Einstein was photographed with representatives of the Observatório Nacional, Museu Nacional, Escola Politécnica and Academia Brasileira de Ciências. Who would have refused to be thus immortalised in the company of the most famous scientist in the world?
Einstein was obviously mentioned in June 2021, June 2022 and September 2022 issues of our excellent blog / bulletin / thingee.
This being said (typed?), the Bendegó meteorite lost its place of honor during the period of exhibition overhaul of the 1940s and / or 1950s which took place under the leadership of the first female director of the Museu Nacional, the very famous Brazilian anthropologist Heloísa Alberto Torres. It then found itself in the meteorite room.
The Bendegó meteorite only regained its place of honor in 2005.
It should be noted that there were / are a few copies of our celestial body:
- at the Observatório Astronômico de Antares, in Feira de Santana, Bahia (papier-mache covered with rubber),
- at the Museu geológico da Bahia, in Salvador, Bahia (papier-mache covered with rubber), and
- at the Museu do Sertão, in Monte Santo, Bahia (plaster)
This being said (typed?), again, the distance which separated the Bendegó meteorite from the place of its discovery deeply annoyed many people in the province of Bahia. However, they had no way to change that situation.
It should be noted that, around 1889-90, the Monte Santo region, where the meteorite had been found, was hit by a great drought. Many people apparently attributed that disaster to the meteorite’s departure. Some of them overturned a monument built in 1887 under the orders of the aforementioned de Carvalho, a monument dedicated to Pedro II.
Worse still, some saw a more or less tenuous link between the drought, the toppling of the monument and the activities of a very popular Brazilian millenarian preacher and religious leader, Antônio Conselheiro, born Antônio Vicente Mendes Maciel, who, in 1893, established himself in Canudos, a village located 60 or so kilometres (more than 35 miles) north of Monte Santo, as the crow flew.
Please note that the following is tragic.
Deemed to be a religious fanatic who wanted to re-establish the imperial monarchy, which was false, Conselheiro quickly became public enemy number 1 for many members of the Brazilian elite. A more or less accidental fight with men of the Exército Brasileiro in November 1896 resulted in the sending of two other expeditions. Both were defeated, in January and March 1897.
Exasperated by those embarrassing defeats, the Brazilian government took drastic measures. It sent an imposing force which crushed all resistance. Up to 25 000 Conselheiro supporters died between June and October 1897, including him, but back to our story.
The A Volta do Bendegó group, or some version thereof, was created in the early 1980s to return the meteorite to the site of its discovery. Its support grew over the years. In the mid-2010s, for example, those supporters included the rectors of the Universidade Federal do Recôncavo da Bahia and Universidade do Estado da Bahia.
In June 2011, an organisation which was part of the Brazilian ministry of culture, the Conselho Nacional de Política Cultural, recommended that the return of the meteorite be favoured by the governments of Brazil and Bahia. Such a repatriation could make it possible to better use its cultural, historical and tourist potential.
The Minister of Culture, the Brazilian actress / composer / director / playwright / producer / screenwriter / singer Anna Maria Alvim Buarque de Hollanda did not say no, but might not have been overly enthusiastic.
The repatriation of the meteorite was part of a new civilisational approach which defined the need for the monuments of humanity to remain or return to their places of origin, promoting the territory and local culture.
That approach was based on United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization guidelines which guided the return of expatriated heritage assets to their communities of origin.
Dare I admit to sharing that approach, even though I realise very well that many major museums in the world, the British Museum in London and the Musée du Louvre in Paris to mention only them, would lose a good part of their collections? Collections sometimes / often acquired more or less legally, or ethically, mind you.
One only needs to think of the Parthenon marbles, taken from the site of the… Parthenon, a once magnificent temple in Athína / Athens, Greece, by the British ambassador to the Ottoman empire, Thomas Bruce, Earl of Elgin and Earl of Kincardine, between 1801 and 1812.
The Bendegó meteorite, however, was still in the Museu Nacional when a terrible fire ravaged its main building, the Paço de São Cristóvão, in September 2018. It survived that disaster but more than 90% of the museum’s collections, or around 18.5 million absolutely irreplaceable artifacts, were destroyed.
The Brazilian museal community was shocked, if not furious. It knew only too well to what extent governments had reduced the sums of money granted to the Museu Nacional. Devoid of sprinklers and equipped with very few fire extinguishers, the old building showed obvious signs of disrepair.
That museum community suffered another shock when it learned that the water pressure in the fire hydrants located near the museum was so insufficient that firefighters rushing to the site of the fire saw themselves forced to use water from a small nearby lake. I kid you not.
The restoration of the Museu Nacional is being carried out slowly, with some hiccups. A limited space, the Bendegó room, where our meteorite had pride of place, might, I repeat might, open its doors in June 2024.
Do not hesitate to visit your museums, my reading friend. Their treasures are worth the detour. Also, do not hesitate to scold people who do not care about culture in all its forms. There is more to life than the bottom line.
This writer wishes to thank the people who provided information. Any mistake contained in this article is my fault, not theirs.