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Georges (Jorge) Engerrand (1877-1961), global prehistory and European collections in Mexico City, by Nathalie Richard

The history of European prehistory collections in Mexico City is not easy to recount. These specimens were moved several times. They are now mainly kept at the Museo nacional de las culturas del mundo (MNCM). A few pieces are also on display in a showcase at the UNAM’s Museo de geología.  At the MNCN, part of these series was displayed in a room dedicated to universal prehistory, which is now closed. They are now stored in the deposit of the museum (Fig. 1).

Figure 1 – European prehistoric tools in the storage area of the National Museum of World Cultures in Mexico City. @Photo by the author.

The journey of these objects towards their current location is full of uncertainties, as the archives are fragmentary. But several clues suggest that the earliest pieces to arrive in Mexico city are linked to the life and work of Georges Engerrand.

Georges Engerrand, anarchism and prehistory.

Born in Libourne in 1877, Georges Engerrand studied natural sciences at Bordeaux University between 1895 and 1898 (Campbell 1962). During these years, he was involved in anarchist circles, published several articles in Les Temps nouveaux and sided for Captain Dreyfus in the events that were causing deep divisions in France at the time. A pacifist and Dreyfus supporter, he refused to do his compulsory military service. Risking imprisonment, he fled to Brussels in 1898, where he joined up with Elisée Reclus, one of the leading figures in the intellectual anarchist circles of the time.

Engerrand stayed in the Belgian capital for almost 10 years, teaching geology and prehistory at several establishments, including the Université nouvelle de Bruxelles or Ecole libre d’enseignement supérieur (1894-1919), an institution founded by socialists and anarchists where Reclus taught (Elmer 2022; Mosquete 2004). During this period, he wrote a thesis in geology and numerous publications, mainly on geology and prehistory (Newcombe 1961). His book Six leçons de préhistoire (Bruxelles, Larcier, 1905), a summary intended for a broad readership, was awarded a prize by the Belgian Academy of Sciences.

A supporter of evolutionism, Engerrand was an advocate of a science-based prehistory, founded primarily on the geological (stratigraphic) study of the sites. He associated the development of this discipline with the drive to emancipate humanity through science, in essays marked by a rationalist conception that he shared with many anarchist intellectuals. The Spanish translation of his 1905 book, Nociones de la primeras edades de la humanidad (Barcelona, Publicaciones de la escuela moderna, 1905), was prefaced by E. Reclus.

During his time in Brussels, Engerrand became friends with the Belgian prehistorian Aimé Rutot (1847-1933). He endorsed his hypotheses about the existence of a very ancient human being whose crude tools, known as eoliths, would be found in geological layers dating from the Tertiary period, older than the Lower Palaeolithic (De Bont 2003).

Engerrand and the first course in global prehistory in Mexico.

The reasons for G. Engerrand’s decision to move to Mexico are not precisely known, but it is possible that he viewed this country as a new opportunity for his career and for the advancement of the international anarchist rationalist project (Graham 1961, Rutsch 2010). He arrived in 1907 to join the Instituto Geológico Nacional as a geologist, and became chief geologist of the “tertiary-quaternary” section, a position he held until 1915. In this capacity, he undertook numerous field trips, during which he also made archaeological discoveries. In 1909, for example, he found at Concepción, in the state of Campeche, a lithic industry without ceramics, the shape of which was reminiscent of the oldest knapped flints found in Europe (Engerrand & Urbina 1909). This typological comparison led him to postulate the existence of an early prehistory in Mexico, but the lack of a geological context for the Concepción discovery made him extremely cautious in his conclusions.

In 1909-1910, Engerrand was appointed professor of prehistory at the Museo Nacional (now the Museo Nacional de Antropología, named Museo Nacional de Arqueología, Historia y Etnologia in 1910), a position he held alongside his work at the Instituto de Geología until 1914. In this capacity, he gave lectures on global prehistory, placing Mexican pre-Hispanic archaeology in a broader chronological framework and in a global geographical context, while promoting the stratigraphic method. A general outline of the course kept in the archives set out a 4-year programme, with three hours per week from 1909 onwards (Archivo histórico del Museo nacional de Antropología, vol. 289, 11707 DIRcur). The first year was a general introduction to geology and its links with prehistory, outlining the history of the discipline, discussing the uses of ethnographic comparison, presenting known paleoanthropological data and the biological theories about human origins, and ending with a guide to field work. The second year focused on Tertiary and Quaternary lithic industries in Europe. One section was devoted to eoliths, using a vocabulary forged by Rutot. The third year covered the art, fauna, flora and human races of the European Quaternary era. It included a section entitled “An attempt to reconstruct the life and mentality of prehistoric man in the light of known facts”, and then focused on the Neolithic period. The fourth year dealt with the transition from prehistory to history and with extra-European prehistory, with a special focus on the American continent. The debates going on in the United-States over the existence of an American Palaeolithic were discussed, as well as the research carried out in Brazil and Argentina on the same topic. The question of the transition from prehistory to pre-Hispanic cultures concluded the course.

Engerrand was also involved in the work of the Escuela Internacional de Arqueología y Etnología Americanas, which operated in Mexico from 1910 to 1917 and in which Franz Boas played a central coordinating role (Ruiz 2003, Rutsch 2010, Taladoire 2022). Engerrand became its director in 1912-1913 and, along with others, promoted stratigraphic methods in order to establish a more precise chronological sequence for Mexican sites. The political instability of the period of the Mexican Revolution, his designation as a foreigner (although he had obtained Mexican nationality and changed his French first name “Georges” to Hispanic “Jorge”), and some interpersonal conflicts forced him to leave Mexico for the United States in 1917. He ended his career there as a professor at the University of Texas.

History of collections

The history of the European prehistoric collections in the public institutions of Mexico City is linked to the first course in global prehistory given by Engerrand. However, the archives and collections that have been found to date are incomplete, and we have clues rather than evidence on this subject.

Nevertheless, the historical archives of the National Anthropology Museum show that the matter of setting up a collection to complement Engerrand’s course was raised as early as November 1909. To this effect, the museum’s director wrote to the Secretary of Public Education asking for a collection of “general prehistory” to be purchased from a specialized dealer in Belgium, the Comptoir ethnographique de Bruxelles. The collection consisted of 730 items “que le Profesor de Prehistoria de este Museo […] juzga non solo única, por su importancia y rareza, sino indispensable para la enseñanza de su clase, que carece en absoluto de arsenal prehistórico”. The museum was notified of the Ministry’s approval a few days later (Archivo histórico del Museo nacional de Antropología, vol. 267, 10495). But the archives remain silent on the follow-up to the transaction.

However, the objects that I was able to see or that feature in the MNCM’s inventories bear significant indications. They suggest that pieces arrived from Belgium in relation to Engerrand’s teachings and ideas and strongly point at the Brussels Comptoir ethnographique as the provider.

Many of these objects come from sites that were emblematic of the research carried out by Belgian prehistorians in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, such as the Trou de Chaleux, Spiennes, Boncelles and Mesvin. However, unlike sites such as La Madeleine or Solutré in France, these Belgian sites were not subsequently considered to have played a key role in the development of the discipline. Several, such as Boncelles, present a questionable stratigraphy.

In addition to the name of the site, these objects bear an indication referring to industries whose names were coined by Belgian prehistorians and adopted by Aimé Rutot (Fig. 2). In the Spanish translation of his 1905 work, Nociones de la primeras edades de la humanidad, Engerrand endorsed this vocabulary (more clearly than in the French version, since these names were not accepted in France). He adopted the divisions proposed by his friend Rutot to designate certain ancient prehistoric cultures, based on the names of Belgian sites, for example “Mesvinian” (Mesvin site) or “Strepyen” (Strepy site) (Fig. 3).

Figure 2 – Flint tool marked “Bergerac, Strepyen”, MNCM @photo by the author.

These names associated with Rutot were also used in the outline of the prehistory course given in Mexico City. Coined by Belgian prehistorians, they were not adopted by the majority of the international scientific community. Most of them were abandoned between the two world wars.

Figure 3 – Table of prehistoric industries according to Rutot, reproduced in Engerrand’s Nociones de la primeras edades de la humanidad (1905).

Moreover, the content of the remaining series at the MNCN reveals that 53% of the stone tools came from Belgian sites, and more than 80% from sites listed in the catalogue of the Comptoir ethnographique de Belgique for 1909 (Fig. 4). This specialized shop was owned by Louis Exsteens, a dealer in Brussels who was close to the prehistorian Aimé Rutot and sold series organized according to his classification.

Figure 4 – Collections on sale at the Comptoir ethnographique de Bruxelles in 1909.

Conclusion

Although it leaves a number of questions unanswered, this paper shows that the Nacional Museum of Mexico bought a collection of European prehistoric artefacts in 1909 from a specialized dealer, in order to complete its collections and provide specimens in relation to the creation of a new course on prehistory. This story is emblematic of the reasons that may have fostered the circulation of prehistoric series from Europe to Latin America before the First World War. It underlines the importance of a flow of archaeological objects that is the reverse of the one most often studied by historians of science and collections.

These objects arriving in the Mexican collections testify of the European conception of prehistory as a global phenomenon, whose traces were likely to be discovered all over the world under similar typological forms. In the Americas, such traces had been discovered at an early stage in the United States, where they fuelled heated controversy over their dating, and in Argentina, where the ideas of Fiorentino Ameghino were debated (Meltzer 1983, Podgorny 2015). In Mexico, the assumption of the existence of lithic industries that predated ceramic cultures emerged more strongly at the beginning of the 20th century. In this context, the creation of reference collections, allowing for typological comparisons between American and European objects, was a crucial issue, as shown by the example of Georges Engerrand.

Bibliography

CAMPBELL T. N., « George Charles Marius Engerrand 1877-1961 », American Anthropologist, New Series, Vol. 64, No. 5, Part 1 (Oct., 1962), pp. 1052-1056.

DE BONT Raf, « The Creation of Prehistoric Man: Aimé Rutot and the Eolith Controversy, 1900–1920 », Isis, vol. 94(4), 2003, p. 604-630.

ELMER Margot, « Construire l’internationalisme. Communication, adaptation et réseaux des étudiants étrangers de l’Université Nouvelle de Bruxelles (1894-1914) », Revue du Nord, 2022/1-2 (n° 442-443), p. 169-195.

ENGERRAND Jorge, & Fernando URBINA, “Nota preliminar acerca de un yacimiento prehistorico ubicado en Concepción(estado de Campeche) acompañada de un resumen frances”, Boletín de La Sociedad Geológica Mexicana, vol. 6, no. 1, 1909, p. 79–87.

GRAHAM John H., “George C. Engerrand in Mexico, 1907-1917”, Bulletin of the Texas Archaeological Society, 1961, Vol. 32, p. 19-31

MELTZER, David J., “The Antiquity of Man and the Development of American Archaeology.” Advances in Archaeological Method and Theory, 6, 1983, p. 1–51

MOSQUETE Teresa Vicente, “Geografía y ciencia en la Universidad Nueva de Bruselas: 1894-1919”, Historia de las ciencias y de las técnicas, coord. por Luis Español González et al., vol. 2, 2004, p. 937-957.

NEWCOMBE W. W. Jr, “George C. Engerrand in Europe, 1898-1907”, Bulletin of the Texas Archaeological Society, 1961, Vol. 32, p. 9-17.

PODGORNY Irina, “Human Origins in the New World? Florentino Ameghino and the Emergence of Prehistoric Archaeology in the Americas (1875–1912)”, PaleoAmerica: A Journal of Early Human Migration and Dispersal, 1, 2015, p. 68–80.

RUIZ Carmen, Insiders and Outsiders in Mexican Archaeology (1890-1920). Tesis doctoral en filosofía. Texas University, Austin, 2003.

RUTSCH Mechthild, “”Vivir de una vida nueva”. Jorge Engerrand (1877-1961), entre la antropología mexicana y la estadounidense de principios del siglo XX”, Nueva Antropología. Revista de Ciencias Sociales, n° 73, 2010, p. 147-169.

TALADOIRE Eric, “George Charles Marius Engerrand (1877-1961) y la Escuela Internacional de México”, Arqueología, (61), p. 165–183.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the teams at the Museo Nacional de las Culturas del Mundo and the Museo de Geología de la UNAM for their support and assistance with this research.

Irina Podgorny and Nathalie Richard at the ESHS conference

Barcelona, September 6, 2024, 16.30-18.00, #40.109

Tied with Wire: The Stability of the Temporary in the Case of Pedro de Angeli’s Fossil Mammal Collections, Buenos Aires in the 1840s

Irina Podgorny, CONICET and Museo de La Plata

Abstract: In this paper I will present the results of my research on the collections of South American fossil mammals that were sold or donated to different European museums in the 1830s and 1840s. Some of these pieces integrate the skeletons that are still exhibited today in London, Berlin or Paris. Others, however, remain in their boxes in the state in which they were sent, revealing the ways in which they were prepared and packaged, an aspect that complements the information provided in the letters written in the context of these transactions.

“CL”. About a Tag and Specimens on the Move

Nathalie Richard, Le Mans Université, Temos UMR 9016

Abstract: In many collections of prehistoric artefacts around the world, from Mexico City to Buenos Aires, from Paris to Barcelona and Neuchâtel, specimens carry a similar tag. In this communication, I argue that this tag fits well the definition of a “paraobject” put forward by José Beltrán. The “CL” tag is an object which is distinct from the specimen but comes with it. It gives information that is not given by the specimen itself, especially on its history and past moves. Based on research in the collections and archive of different institutions in Latin America and Europe, this paper will first explain what the capital letters “CL” stand for. It will analyse the specific scientific background that justified the travels of specimens carrying such a tag from France to many institutions abroad, as well as the various social and material contexts in which these travels took place. In accordance with one of the main research hypotheses in the EU project SciCoMove, my paper will exemplify that the circulation of scientific specimens was not a one-way process from non-Western “exotic” countries to the Western museums, but that collections also travelled the other way round.

Programme of the conference : https://eventum.upf.edu/94068/programme/science-technology-humanity-and-the-earth-11th-eshs-conference-4-7-september-2024.html

Automates en mouvements

Nathalie Richard

A l’occasion du Workshop SciCoMove qui a eu lieu à Neuchâtel les 13, 14 et 15 juin 2024, les participants ont pu assister à une démonstration des trois automates exposés au Musée d’art et d’histoire de cette ville. L’Ecrivain, la Musicienne et le Dessinateur ont été réalisés à La Chaux-de-Fonds entre 1768 et 1774 par les horlogers Pierre Jaquet-Droz, son fils Henri-Louis et Jean-Frédéric Leschot. A bien des égards, ils incarnent le mouvement.

Construits au XVIIIe siècle, ils sont des chefs d’œuvre d’horlogerie et illustrent le raffinement des mouvements horlogers fabriqués alors par les artisans suisses. Ils sont les produits d’une industrie horlogère de réputation mondiale dont le patrimoine urbain de La Chaux-de-Fonds témoigne aujourd’hui. Anthropomorphes, ils sont aussi des témoins de l’intérêt du XVIIIe siècle pour la reproduction mécanique des mouvements anatomiques et physiologiques : mouvements des avant-bras et des doigts, de la tête, mouvement des yeux, souffle et respiration sont reproduits ici. L’un de leurs concepteurs, Jean-Frédéric Leschot a d’ailleurs aussi fabriqué des prothèses.

Enfin, ces automates sont destinés à voyager. Ils sont conçus comme des produits promotionnels, que leurs concepteurs font voyager en Europe afin de démontrer l’excellence de leur savoir-faire.

Mais ils constituent aussi une forme de musée ambulant, comme il en existe de nombreux à la fin du 18e siècle et au début du 19e siècle, puisqu’ils sont également donnés en spectacle à un public qui paie pour les admirer. Ils sont d’ailleurs vendus par les Jacquet-Droz en 1788 à des marchands de Madrid qui les utilisent exclusivement de cette façon, et passent ensuite par plusieurs propriétaires qui les montrent partout en Europe.

Leurs voyages cessent au début du 20e siècle, lorsqu’ils sont rachetés après de longues négociations par la ville de Neuchâtel. Ils sont désormais jugés trop fragiles pour être déplacés. Mais leurs mouvements ne s’arrêtent pas pour autant puisque la mise en fonctionnement régulière de leur mécanisme est indispensable à leur bonne conservation.

De Paris à Turin. Histoire des photographies des stigmates des mains des ouvriers d’Alphonse Bertillon (fin XIXème siècle), Cristina Cilli (UNITO)

Dans les Archives historiques du Musée d’Anthropologie criminelle « Cesare Lombroso » de l’Université de Turin sont conservées six planches photographiques des mains particulièrement abimées et usées par des professions manuelles, qui montrent donc les signes, les stigmates laissés dans le temps par ces professions. Au-dessous de chaque image, normalement deux par planche, une légende explique d’une manière très minutieuse les stigmates présents, tandis que titre donne la profession, par exemple : Cordonnier (fig. 1).  

Figure 1 – Planche des mains droite et gauche du Cordonnier. 1° Durillon caractéristique au bas de la 1re phalange du pouce droit, face antérieure et présence fréquente d’un 2e durillon moins prononcé au-dessus, sur la 1re articulation. Cause- – Maniement du tranchet     
2 °Sur la main droite callosité habituelle du marteau notamment sur l’éminence hypothénar.
3° Épaississement de l’épiderme du bord interne de la paume avec silons noirâtres à direction horizontale sur la peau et la face dorsale des doigts (Caractères communs aux deux mains). Cause. – Pression de la manicle qui sert à tirer le fil ; coupures occasionnées par ce dernier.

Pendant mes recherches sur les photographies signalétiques de Alphonse Bertillon – fondateur de la Police scientifique française au cours des années 1880 – auprès des Archives de la Préfecture de Paris, j’ai découvert un album photographique numérisé qui m’a tout de suite fait penser, par similitude, aux photographies de mains de la collection turinoise (fig. 2 et 3). Il s’agit d’un ouvrage composé de grandes feuilles en carton de couleur bleu clair et relié en albums. Sur chaque page, figurent des photographies et des légendes. La page de garde indique : Signes caractéristiques des principales professions manuelles. Observations recueillies par M. Alphonse Bertillon, Chef du Service d’identification de la Préfecture de Police. Première série. Publié par ordre de M. Loze, Préfet de Police. Paris.

Figure 3Signes caractéristiques des principales professions manuelles. Observations recueillies par M. Alphonse Bertillon, 1889.

Au cours des années 1880 Bertillon s’intéresse aussi aux stigmates de la main des ouvriers et entreprend de les répertorier.  En effet il entend montrer que la main est un organe d’une grande richesse, susceptible de livrer des renseignements sur l’identité, l’origine, la condition et la trajectoire d’éventuels malfrats qui peuvent avoir intérêt à les dissimuler à la police. Il entreprend d’utiliser la photographie comme outil permettant de compléter et se rendre plus accessibles les travaux préalables de savants, afin de faciliter leur mise en application pratique (Piazza, 2016 ; 2019).

En 1889, à l’occasion de l’Exposition universelle organisée à Paris, Bertillon peut montrer et diffuser ces images à des millions de visiteurs. Il confectionne à cette occasion un volumineux album de soixante-douze pages intitulé Signes caractéristiques des principales professions manuelles dans lequel sont collées environs deux cents photographies représentant les signes caractéristiques des mains des ouvriers de diverses professions : cordonnier, mégissier-tanneur, découpeur sur métaux, peigneur de chanvre, etc.

Figure 3 – Planche à 4 photographies des mains provenant de l’Album de Bertillon Signes caractéristiques des principales professions manuelles.
Même photographies des mains collées sur 2 planches provenant de la collection du Musée Lombroso de l’Université de Turin.

En 1894, cet ouvrage est également montré au grand public lors de l’Exposition universelle, internationale et coloniale à Lyon. Dans un article intitulé « Les mains et leur signes professionnels », publié en 1891 dans la revue La science illustrée, Bertillon souligne aussi que ces renseignements peuvent s’avérer particulièrement importants lors de la découverte d’un cadavre mutilé. Ils peuvent aussi faciliter la compréhension du mode opératoire d’un acte criminel (Piazza, 2016).

En 1907, certaines photographies de mains d’ouvriers sont transmises à un journaliste par Bertillon, qui prétend de manière erronée que certaines représentent les mains du criminel Albert Soleilland, un ébéniste français reconnu coupable du viol et du meurtre d’une fillette. Ce journaliste les envoie ensuite pour expertise à Cesare Lombroso qui pense déceler sur celles attribuées à Soleilland des anomalies propres aux criminels-nés, conformément à sa théorie (Milicia, 2024). Une large partie de la presse française profitera de cette erreur pour tourner le criminologue turinois en ridicule (Piazza, 2024).

Bibliographie :

Milicia M.T., Criminal Anthropology. In Montaldo S., Cilli C. (eds.), The Lombroso Museum. « Cesare Lombroso » Museum of Criminal Anthropology, University of Turin. Hapax ed., Turin, 2024, pp. 77-82.

Piazza P., Un Œil sur le crime, Orep, Bayeux, 2016, pp.36-37.

Piazza P., Marlet R., La science à la poursuite du crime, La Martinière, Paris, 2019, pp. 37-41.

Piazza P., The stigmata on workmen’s hands. Photopraphs by Alphonse Bertillon. In Montaldo S., Cilli C. (eds.), The Lombroso Museum. « Cesare Lombroso » Museum of Criminal Anthropology, University of Turin. Hapax ed., Turin, 2024, pp. 212-213.

A través de los siglos, los oficios, las artes y las ciencias.

Algunas notas sobre el compás de espesor, by Marina L. Sardi (UNLP).

Gran parte de la actividad científica ha sido dependiente del uso de instrumentos, cuya creación y producción con crecientes niveles de complejidad técnica ha sido uno de los aspectos más conspicuo de los últimos 250 años. Su representación ha destacado objetos como los telescopios, microscopios, relojes, cámaras y otros de refinada ejecución, que ocupan lugares relevantes en las exhibiciones de ciencia, o de arte inclusive, y han captado frecuentemente la atención de los estudios históricos.

La antropología física, durante su etapa de institucionalización en el siglo XIX no fue ajena a la búsqueda de precisión en sus observaciones y al reemplazo de las descripciones por números “objetivos”, desarrollando un vasto corpus instrumental. A medida que médicos o naturalistas formaban colecciones de cráneos en sus gabinetes por aquellos años, o incluso antes, también adquirían instrumentos de medición, frecuentemente para estudios frenológicos. La tan deseada precisión, finalmente, se lograría sumando grandes cantidades de observaciones y, para esto, se invitaba a los viajeros aficionados, militares, religiosos, funcionarios, o comerciantes a que trasladasen y manipulasen instrumentos, colaborando con la emprensa antropológica y enviado sus mediciones desde los territorios coloniales, cárceles u hospitales, a las instituciones o sociedades científicas.

El médico francés Paul Broca (1824-1880), fundador de la Sociedad de Antropología de París, fue el principal promotor del uso de aparatos, colaborando regularmente con Louis Mathieu (1817-1879), un fabricante de instrumentos de cirugía y ortopedia, aunque sugería también en sus Instrucciones Generales para las Investigaciones y Observaciones Antropológicas que “todos los instrumentos empleados en las artes y la industria para estudiar y representar la forma de los objetos pueden ser aplicados al hombre” (Broca, 1865, p. 38). Efectivamente, la práctica craneométrica y antropométrica, se valió de la adopción de instrumentos utilizados por los artesanos que mejor conocían las formas del cuerpo humano -sastres, sombrereros o zapateros- o de artesanos vinculados a la construcción. Tal fue el caso de los compases, también llamados calibres.

En el catálogo virtual del Museo Galileo (2010-2015), de Florencia (Italia), se define a un compás como un instrumento formado por dos varillas de igual longitud, articuladas entre sí, de modo que puedan adoptar a voluntad una inclinación relativa. Los hay de distinto tipo para distintas operaciones, desde dibujar hasta calcular proporciones, desde medir calibres hasta determinar la posición en el mar. Uno de ellos es conocido como compás esférico o de espesor y se caracteriza por sus varillas curvas -junto con una escala graduada- que permiten la medición de los diámetros externos de los objetos, siendo útil cuando estos no presentan una forma uniforme. Este tipo de compás era utilizado por escultores, arquitectos y constructores, para ejecutar columnas y otras obras con cierta precisión y reproducir similares formas; por militares, para medir el calibre de la artillería; también por torneros, cerrajeros y mecánicos.

El compás de espesor se utilizaba para medir el largo y el ancho máximos de cráneos o cabezas, para calcular el índice cefálico, en los habitantes de distintos lugares y épocas. Este índice había sido propuesto en 1842 por el anatomista sueco Anders Retzius (1796-1860), permitiendo clasificar a los cráneos como dolicocéfalos (largos y angostos), mesocéfalos y braquicéfalos (cortos y anchos) (Blanckaert 2009). Se constituyó en un indicador racial y fue ampliamente adoptado por los estudiosos quienes, inspirados en crecientes sentimientos de nacionalismo, buscaban conocer qué razas habían poblado una nación (Luyendijk-Elshout, 1997). El índice se utilizó como método de identificación personal, como el de Alphonse Bertillon (1893), y fue también adoptado en el ámbito de la antropología criminal, para explicar el mayor o menor desarrollo de ciertas partes craneanas que explicaran en porqué de la criminalidad. Todo esto nos sugiere que los instrumentos y las mediciones no solo sirvieron a la ciencia, sino también a intereses políticos, como en el caso de los instrumentos de uso médico (Cházaro 2017).

A medida que avanzaba el siglo XIX, los fabricantes en colaboración con los estudiosos de distintos países fueron agregando decenas de instrumentos para orientar y dibujar cráneos o huesos e instrumentos de medición para cráneos, huesos y personas vivas; muchos de los cuales cumplían la misma función que el compás de espesor, como el cadre à máxima, propuesto por Broca y vendido por Mathieu en París.

A fines del siglo XIX había tal diversidad de métodos de medición que los estudiosos entendían que la falta de acuerdo era perjudicial para el avance de la disciplina. Por lo tanto, en 1906 y 1912 se alcanzaron los Acuerdos de Mónaco y Ginebra, respectivamente, reduciendo la cantidad de medidas a ser relevadas con pocos instrumentos: el antropómetro (para medir el cuerpo), la cinta métrica y los compases deslizante y de espesor. Los compases, entonces, siempre han formado parte del kit básico que se recomendaba utilizar en las instrucciones escritas para viajeros y en los manuales destinados a la enseñanza de la antropología física.

En el sistema museal de la Universidad de Turín (Italia) existen acervos instrumentales que fueron, en su mayoría, elaborados por constructores italianos, franceses y alemanes. Entre ellos se encuentran diferentes compases de espesor y su estudio nos permite trazar algunas historias de la antropología en Italia y de los itinerarios de estos objetos.

Podemos mencionar, en primer lugar, los instrumentos del Museo de Anatomía Humana “Luigi Rolando”, fabricados en su mayoría por la casa Mathieu, que parecen relacionarse con una de las grandes colecciones craneanas que se custodian y que hasta 1913 pertenecían al Museo Craneológico y Frenológico de la Real Academia de Medicina (Mangiapane et al. 2017).[i] Este museo fue el primer museo craneológico de Italia, creado en 1866, gracias al empeño del médico Antonio Garbiglietti (1807-1877), uno de los pioneros de la antropología italiana.[ii] El interés inicial de Garbiglietti se vinculaba a la frenología, pero con los años, con el ocaso de estas teorías y con la instalación en Turín de Cesare Lombroso (1835-1909) en 1876, dirigió su atención hacia los estudios antropológicos, más precisamente a los cráneos de personajes famosos (Giacobini et al. 2023). Para esos años, la colección ya se había enriquecido con cráneos arqueológicos -i.e. etruscos, romanos- y extraeuropeos -e.g. de la Patagonia-, así como moldes de yeso de personajes reconocidos -e.g. Napoleón I- y algunos criminales. A Garbiglietti lo sucedió Alberto Gamba (1822-1901), quien impulsó fuertemente a este museo a través de estudios craneológicos. Cuando Gamba murió el interés por la craneología se debilitó y el museo fue transferido en 1913 al Instituto Anatómico (Giacobini et al. 2023). Un documento que acompaña la transferencia es una “Lista de los cráneos y otro material perteneciente al Museo Craneológico de la Real Academia de Medicina de Turín, ahora consignados y ordenados en el Instituto de Anatomía Humana Normal de la Real Universidad de Turín”, compilada en 1913 y redactada por Alfonso Bovero (Giacobini et al. 2023). Este documento da cuenta de los instrumentos que había en tal momento; entre ellos, compases de espesor (Fig. 1).

Figura 1. Compases pertenecientes al Museo di Anatomia Humana “Luigi Rolando”, Università degli Studi de Torino.

En segundo lugar, se encuentran en el sistema de museos de la Universidad de Turín los instrumentos para estudios médico-clínicos, estesiológicos, fisiológicos y antropométricos de Cesare Lombroso (Galloni 2009). Entre ellos está el compás que este médico utilizó para discernir si las personas “delincuentes”, “alienadas” y “honestas” diferían en sus cráneos (Fig. 2). Además de observar las “anomalías craneanas” que predominarían en los criminales, el método de Lombroso incluía similares mediciones a las que tomaban los antropólogos físicos (Lombroso 1876, 1878). En los archivos del Museo de Antropología Criminal “Cesare Lombroso” (Turín, Italia) es posible detectar la medición de la longitud máxima y el ancho máximo, obtenidos sobre los cráneos de su colección, con los que esperaba dilucidar si los delincuentes eran braquicéfalos o dolicocéfalos.

rino.

Figura 2. Compás perteneciente a Cesare Lombroso, fabricado por Tecnomasio Milano. Museo di Antropologia Criminale “Cesare Lombroso”, Università degli Studi de To

Se infieren asimismo en estos archivos las estrategias aplicadas para la colecta de datos, que requería que personas que participaban del sistema judicial u hospitalario enviaran listas de números o formularios con observaciones realizadas en numerosas personas. Lo notable de estas páginas es la enorme cantidad de datos en blanco. Esto resultaría de la falta de precisión del sistema propuesto por Lombroso, en el que muchas observaciones podían realizarse sin el uso de instrumentos. En cambio, de los pocos datos registrados a lo largo de los años, se encuentran frecuentemente la longitud y el ancho del cráneo, junto con el cálculo del índice cefálico, medidos sobre personas vivas y muertas. Esto nos indica que muchas personas en instituciones judiciales y hospitalarias manipulaban un compás de espesor.

Volviendo a Lombroso, su compás actualmente se exhibe en el Museo de Antropología Criminal, en una vitrina dedicada a numerosos instrumentos científicos que este médico utilizó (Fig. 3).

Figura 3. Vitrina dedicada a los instrumentos utilizados por Lombroso. Obsérvese el compás en el centro y debajo de dicha vitrina; a la derecha, en la sala contigua se observa el esqueleto de Lombroso. Museo di Antropologia Criminale Cesare Lombroso”, Università degli Studi de Torino. Fuente: https://www.museolombroso.unito.it/visita/pianta-museo/sala-2/

En Turín, el Museo de Antropología y Etnografía es otro lugar que guarda instrumentos. Una parte importante de ellos pertenecieron al médico y egiptólogo Giovanni Marro (1875 – 1952), quien fundó este museo. A ellos se fueron agregando en etapas posteriores otros instrumentos, entre los que hay dos compases deslizantes con ramas curvas; uno, con la escala graduada de 30 cm de longitud y, en el otro, de 60 cm, más adaptado para medidas corporales (Fig. 4). Los mismos habrían ingresado al museo en la década de 1950 y no hay más información al respecto. Finalmente, el Archivo Científico y Tecnológico de la Universidad de Turín también tiene tres instrumentos que un médico de apellido Reginato tenía en su casa y que su familia donó, sin ninguna otra información. Entre ellos, hay un compás de espesor, fabricado por la casa alemana Zimmerman.

Figura 4. Compases pertenecientes al Museo di Antropologia e di Etnografia, Università degli Studi de Torino, fabricados por Luigi Corino. Cortesía de Gianluigi Mangiapane.

Estas “cose di scienza” (Mangiapane et al. 2017) han sido, en el caso de la antropología física, elementos necesarios en la producción de conocimiento y la conformación de la identidad disciplinar. Su estudio permite reflexionar sobre la importancia de los instrumentos en la estandarización de procedimientos, en cómo circularon por sitios alejados de aquellos en los que originalmente se crearon, en quiénes fueron sus usuarios y el modo en que movilizaron datos.

Los instrumentos científicos constituyen bienes culturales, aunque en los museos no siempre han adquirido similar estatus. En algunos fueron distinguidos como corpus específicos destinados a la investigación; en otros fueron yuxtapuestos con herramientas de taller; o abandonados en un armario; y en otros fueron asociados al nombre de algún investigador prestigioso que los adquirió y utilizó. Muchos instrumentos científicos son preservados y frecuentemente exhibidos en museos de ciencias para representar el progreso tecnológico; pero, si no hay una política explícita de conservación, pueden terminar desarmados o despedazados, ocupando frecuentemente espacios marginales de una institución. O, por el contrario, los instrumentos pueden no estar en depósitos, ni en vitrinas, sino estar en uso en los laboratorios, como es el caso de muchos compases de espesor de la División Antropología del Museo de La Plata (Argentina) que se utilizan para el relevamiento numérico en proyectos de antropología biológica. Estos compases continúan, de hecho, en venta por numerosas casas especializadas en la fabricación de instrumentos.

En síntesis, el compás de espesor, sin haber sufrido demasiados cambios en su construcción y sin siquiera habérsele añadido dispositivos de digitalización, se ha movido a través de diversos mundos sociales y continúa prestándose a la medición científica. Permite contar distintas historias, pero no solo eso. Su versatilidad, precisión, fácil manipulación y menor costo -respecto de otros instrumentos complejos- garantizan su vigencia para la medición.

Turín, 12 de abril de 2024

Agradecimientos: a Cristina Cilli, Giacomo Giacobini, Gianluiggi Mangiapane y Mara Fausone.

Referencias bibliográficas

Blanckaert C. 2009. De la race à l’évolution. Paul Broca et l’anthropologie française (1850-1900). Paris: L’Harmattan.

Broca P. 1865. Instructions Générales pour les recherches et observations anthropologiques. París: Victor Masson et fils.

Cházaro L. 2017. Trade in medical instruments and colonialist policies between Mexico and Europe in the nineteenth century”. En Morrison-Low AD, Schechner SJ, Brenni P eds. How Scientific Instruments Have Changed Hands. Leiden: The Netherlands: Brill, pp. 212-226. doi: 10.1163/9789004324930_010

Galloni MR. 2009. Gli strumenti scientifici. En Montaldo S, Trappero P eds. Il Museo di Antropologia criminale “Cesare Lombroso”. Turin, UTET, pp. 153-167.

Giacobini G, Mangiapane G, Picco A. 2023. Alle Origini Della Museologia Antropologica Italiana. Il Museo Craniologico Della Reale Accademia Di Medicina Di Torino. Scientia 1. doi: 10.53134/2974-9433-202301-101

Lombroso, C. 1876. L’uomo delinquente studiato in rapporto alla antropologia, alla medicina legale ed alle discipline carcerarie. Milan: Ulrico Hoepli.

Lombroso, C. 1878. Cranio. En Albertini et al. eds. Enciclopedia medica italiana diretta per le singole specialità dai dottori. Milan: F. Vallardi, vol. 2, parte 2, pp. 1813-1900.

Luyendijk-Elshotu AM. 1997. Opening address: The magic of the skull. “Commercium craniorum” in the nineteenth century. International Journal of Osteoarchaeology 7, 571-574.

Mangiapane G, Giacobini G, Malerba G, Cilli C. 2017. La collezione osteologica del Museo di Anatomia umana “Luigi Rolando” dell’Università degli Studi di Torino: un esempio di riordino di “cose di scienza”. Museologia Scientifica Memorie 17, 66-70.

Museo Galileo. 2010-2015. Museo Virtuale. Istituto e Museo di Storia della Scienza. Accedido el 1 de abril de 2024 en: https://catalogo.museogalileo.it/approfondimento/Compasso.html


[i] Otra parte de las colecciones son derivadas del ex Instituto Anatómico de Turín.

[ii] Garbiglietti creía que el progreso de la ciencia se debía a la fundación de museos y la creación de colecciones de todas las naciones (Giacobini et al. 2023).

Crossing centuries, trades, arts and sciences

Some notes on the spreading calliper, by Marina L. Sardi (UNLP)

Turin, April 12, 2024

Much of scientific activity has been dependent on the use of instruments, whose creation and production with increasing levels of technical complexity has been one of the most conspicuous aspects of the last 250 years. Its representation has highlighted objects such as telescopes, microscopes, clocks, cameras, and others of refined manufacture, which occupy relevant spaces in science exhibitions, or even in art exhibitions, and have frequently been the focus of historical studies.

Physical anthropology, during its period of institutionalization in the 19th century, searched for precision and the replacement of descriptions by “objective” numbers, developing a vast corpus of instruments. As physicians and naturalists organised their skull collections in their cabinets during those years or even earlier, they also acquired measuring instruments, often devoted to phrenological studies. The long-desired precision would be achieved through the accumulation of great amounts of observations and, for this purpose, voyagers, military, religious, authorities and traders were invited to transport and manipulate instruments, collaborating with the anthropological enterprise by sending their measurements from the colonial territories, prisons, or hospitals to scientific societies and institutions.

The French physician Paul Broca (1824-1880), founder of the Société d’Anthropologie de Paris, was the main promoter of the use of scientific apparatus, collaborating frequently with Louis Mathieu (1817-1879), a manufacturer of surgical and orthopaedic instruments. He suggested, however, in his Instructions Générales pour les Recherches et Observations Anthropologiques that “all the instruments used in the arts and industry to study and represent the form of the objects can be applied to man” (Broca 1865, p. 38). Indeed, the practice of craniometry and anthropometry adopted instruments used by the craftsmen who were most familiar with the forms of the human body -tailors, hatters, and shoemakers- or by craftsmen involved in the building industry. Such was the case with compasses, also called callipers.

In the virtual catalogue of the Museo Galileo (2010-2015) in Florence (Italy) a compass is defined as an instrument consisting of two bars of equal length, articulated together, so that they can adopt any relative inclination. There are different kinds of compasses for different operations, from drawing to calculating proportions, from measuring gauges to determining positions at the sea. One of them is known as the spherical or spreading calliper and is characterised by its curved bars -together with a graduated scale- which allow measuring the external diameters of objects, being useful when these do not present a uniform shape. This type of calliper was used by sculptors, architects and builders, to execute columns and other works with precision and to reproduce similar shapes; by the military, to measure the calibre of artillery; also by metal or wood turners, locksmiths, and mechanics.

The spreading calliper was used to measure the cranial maximum length and breadth, in order to calculate the cephalic index, in the inhabitants of different places and times. This index had been proposed in 1842 by the Swedish anatomist Anders Retzius (1796-1860), allowing skulls to be classified as dolichocephalic (long and narrow), mesocephalic and brachycephalic (short and wide) (Blanckaert 2009). It became a racial indicator and was widely adopted by scholars who, inspired by growing feelings of nationalism, searched to know which races had populated a nation (Luyendijk-Elshout 1997). This index was used as a method of personal identification, such as that of Alphonse Bertillon (1893), and was also adopted in the field of criminal anthropology, to explain the greater or lesser development of certain cranial parts that would explain the reasons for criminality. All this suggests that the instruments and measurements not only served science but also political interests, as in the case of instruments for medical use (Cházaro 2017).

As the 19th century progressed, manufacturers in collaboration with scholars in different countries added dozens of instruments for orienting and drawing skulls or bones and for measuring skulls, bones and living persons, many of which served the same function as the thickness calliper, such as the cadre à maxima, proposed by Broca and sold by Mathieu in Paris.

At the end of the 19th century, there was such a diversity of measurement methods that scholars considered that the lack of agreement was detrimental to the advancement of the discipline. Thus, in 1906 and 1912 the Monaco and Geneva Agreements were reached, respectively, reducing the number of measurements to be surveyed with a few instruments: the anthropometer (to measure the body), the tape measure and the sliding and spreading callipers. Callipers, then, have always been part of the basic kit recommended for use in those instructions written for travellers and in manuals for the teaching of physical anthropology.

In the museum system of the University of Turin (Italy), there are instruments, which were, most of them, made by Italian, French and German makers. Spreading callipers are among them and their study allows us to trace some histories of anthropology in Italy and the itineraries of these objects. First, the instruments of the Museum of Human Anatomy “Luigi Rolando”, mostly manufactured by Mathieu, seem to be related to one of the great cranial collections that are housed there, which belonged, until 1913, to the Craniological and Phrenological Museum of the Royal Academy of Medicine (Mangiapane et al. 2017).[i] This museum was the first craniological museum in Italy, created in 1866, due to the efforts of the physician Antonio Garbiglietti (1807-1877), one of the pioneers of Italian anthropology[ii]. Garbiglietti was interested in phrenology, but over the years, with the decline of these theories and the installation in Turin of Cesare Lombroso (1835-1909) in 1876, he focused on anthropological studies, more precisely on the skulls of famous people (Giacobini et al. 2023). By that time, the collection was enriched with archaeological -e.g. Etruscan, Roman- and extra-European -e.g. from Patagonia- skulls as well as plaster casts of famous people – e.g. Napoleon I – and some criminals.  Garbiglietti was succeeded by Alberto Gamba (1822-1901), who strongly promoted this museum through craniological studies. When Gamba died, interest in craniology declined and the museum was transferred in 1913 to the Anatomical Institute (Giacobini et al. 2023). The transfer was accompanied by a “List of the skulls and other material belonging to the Craniological Museum of the Royal Academy of Medicine of Turin, now consigned and arranged in the Institute of Normal Human Anatomy of the Royal University of Turin”, compiled in 1913 and written by Alfonso Bovero (Giacobini et al. 2023). This document gives an account of the instruments that were present at that time; among them, spreading callipers (Fig. 1)


Figure 1. Spreading callipers belonging to the Museum of Human Anatomy “Luigi Rolando”, University of Turin.

Secondly, Cesare Lombroso’s instruments for medical-clinical, stesiological, physiological and anthropometric studies are also housed in the museum system of the University of Turin (Galloni 2009); among them, the calliper this physician used to discern whether “criminals”, “lunatics” and “honest” persons differed in their skulls (Fig. 2). In addition to observing the “cranial anomalies” that would predominate in criminals, Lombroso’s method included similar measurements to those taken by physical anthropologists (Lombroso 1876, 1878). In the archives of the Museum of Criminal Anthropology “Cesare Lombroso” (Turin, Italy) it is possible to detect the measurement of maximum length and breadth, obtained on the skulls of his collection, in order to elucidate whether criminals were brachycephalic or dolichocephalic.

Figure 2. Cesare Lombroso’s spreading calliper, built by Tecnomasio Milano. Museum of Criminal Anthropologia “Cesare Lombroso”, Università degli Studi de Torino.

These files also reveal the strategies applied for data collecting, which required people working in the judicial or hospital system to send lists of numbers or forms with observations made on numerous people. What is remarkable in these files is the enormous amount of blank data. This would result from the fact that the system proposed by Lombroso lacked precision, in which many observations could be made without the use of instruments. However, among the few data recorded, we can observe that the length and breadth of the skull, together with the cephalic index, measured on living and dead people, are frequently given. This tells us that many people in judicial and hospital institutions manipulated a spreading calliper. Returning to Lombroso, his calliper is currently exhibited in the Museum of Criminal Anthropology, in a vitrine dedicated to the numerous scientific instruments used by this researcher (Fig. 3).

Figure 3. Vitrine devoted to the Lombroso’s instruments. Note that the calliper is in the centre of the lowest shelf; to the right, in the adjacent room, it is possible to observe Lombroso’s skeleton. Museo di Antropologia Criminale Cesare Lombroso”, Università degli Studi de Torino. Source: https://www.museolombroso.unito.it/visita/pianta-museo/sala-2/

In Turin, the Museum of Anthropology and Ethnography is another place that houses instruments. An important part of them belonged to the physician and Egyptologist Giovanni Marro (1875 – 1952), who founded this museum. Other instruments were added in further years, including two sliding callipers with curved branches, one with a graduated scale of 30 cm and the other of 60 cm, more suitable for body measurements (Fig. 4). These would have entered the museum in the 1950s and no further information is available. Finally, the Scientific and Technological Archive of the University of Turin also has three instruments that a doctor surnamed Reginato had in his house and that his family donated, without any additional information. Among them, there is a spreading calliper, manufactured by the German company Zimmerman.

Figure 4. Callipers belonging to the Museo di Antropologia e di Etnografia, Università degli Studi de Torino, fabricados por Luigi Corino. Cortesía de Gianluigi Mangiapane.

These “cose di scienza” (Mangiapane et al. 2017) have been, in the case of physical anthropology, necessary elements in the production of knowledge and the shaping of the disciplinary identity. Their study allows us to think about the relevant role of instruments in the standardisation of methods, how they circulated across places far from those in which they were created, who were their users, and how they mobilised data.

Scientific instruments are cultural assets, although they have not always been treated as such in museums. In some places they were distinguished as specific research objects; in others, they were juxtaposed with workshop tools; or abandoned in toolboxes; in others, they were associated with the name of a prestigious researcher who acquired and used them. Many scientific instruments are preserved and often exhibited in science museums to represent technological progress; but, if there is no explicit conservation policy, they may end up dismantled or in pieces, often occupying marginal spaces in an institution. Conversely, the instruments may not be in warehouses or vitrines, but be in use in laboratories, as is the case of many spreading callipers from the Anthropology Division of the Museo de La Plata (Argentina) that are used for the numerical survey in biological anthropology research projects. These callipers are, in fact, still for sale by many specialised instrument makers.

In sum, the spreading calliper, without having undergone too many changes in its construction or even the addition of digitising devices, has moved through various social worlds and is still useful for scientific measurement. It allows us to tell different stories, but not only that. Its versatility, precision, easy handling and lower cost -compared to other complex instruments- ensure its validity for measurement.

Credits to: Cristina Cilli, Giacomo Giacobini, Gianluiggi Mangiapane and Mara Fausone.

[i] Another part of the collections are derived from the ex-Anatomical Institute of Torino.

[ii] Garbiglietti believed that the progress of science was due to the foundation of museums and the creation of collections of all nations (Giacobini et al. 2023).

References

Blanckaert C. 2009. De la race à l’évolution. Paul Broca et l’anthropologie française (1850-1900). Paris: L’Harmattan.

Broca P. 1865. Instructions Générales pour les recherches et observations anthropologiques. Paris: Victor Masson et fils.

Cházaro L. 2017. Trade in medical instruments and colonialist policies between Mexico and Europe in the nineteenth century”. In Morrison-Low AD, Schechner SJ, Brenni P eds. How Scientific Instruments Have Changed Hands. Leiden: The Netherlands: Brill, pp. 212-226. doi: 10.1163/9789004324930_010

Galloni MR. 2009. Gli strumenti scientifici. In Montaldo S, Trappero P eds. Il Museo di Antropologia criminale “Cesare Lombroso”. Turin, UTET, pp. 153-167.

Giacobini G, Mangiapane G, Picco A. 2023. Alle Origini Della Museologia Antropologica Italiana. Il Museo Craniologico Della Reale Accademia Di Medicina Di Torino. Scientia 1. doi: 10.53134/2974-9433-202301-101

Lombroso, C. 1876. L’uomo delinquente studiato in rapporto alla antropologia, alla medicina legale ed alle discipline carcerarie. Milan: Ulrico Hoepli.

Lombroso, C. 1878. Cranio. In Albertini et al. eds. Enciclopedia medica italiana diretta per le singole specialità dai dottori. Milan: F. Vallardi, vol. 2, parte 2, pp. 1813-1900.

Luyendijk-Elshotu AM. 1997. Opening address: The magic of the skull. “Commercium craniorum” in the nineteenth century. International Journal of Osteoarchaeology 7, 571-574.

Mangiapane G, Giacobini G, Malerba G, Cilli C. 2017. La collezione osteologica del Museo di Anatomia umana “Luigi Rolando” dell’Università degli Studi di Torino: un esempio di riordino di “cose di scienza”. Museologia Scientifica Memorie 17, 66-70.

Museo Galileo. 2010-2015. Museo Virtuale. Istituto e Museo di Storia della Scienza. Accessed April 1th 2024 en: https://catalogo.museogalileo.it/approfondimento/Compasso.html