A Sorry Saga: Theft, Forgery, Scholarship... and the Vinland Map

Table of Contents

List of Illustrations

Figures

Tables

Preface

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1: The Making of a Mystery

Two Remarkable Dealers

Two Extraordinary Documents

Discussions at the Museum

On to Geneva

On American shores

CHAPTER 2: The Missing Link

The Speculum Historiale volume

From Irving Davis to New Haven

Laurence Witten’s dramatic discovery

A miracle… or not?

CHAPTER 3: The Looting of La Seo

CHAPTER 4: The Manuscripts of La Seo

Aftermath

The Greek Manuscripts of La Seo

Manuscripts from La Seo in other languages

The Latin Manuscripts of La Seo

CHAPTER 5: The Books of La Seo

Yale University and the Books of La Seo

The British Museum and the Books of La Seo

Afterword to Chapter 5

CHAPTER 6: Provenance Unknown

‘A Private Collection in Europe’

From the library of Columbus?

From the library of President Perón?

A Castle in Moravia

CHAPTER 7: The Innocence of Father Fischer

The Case against Luka Jelić

Problems with patronymics

The ‘companions’ Bjarni and Leifr

Bishop Eiríkr, Pope Pascal II and Hungrvaka

Ultima Thule, the Samoyeds, and the influence of Adam of Bremen

Isolanda Ibernica

Dacia for Denmark

Father Fischer’s ‘shaky knowledge’

The depiction of Vinland

The handwriting on the Vinland Map

Chapter Conclusion

CHAPTER 8: Two Baffling Inscriptions

The Enigma of the ‘Third Part’ Inscription

The Problem of the So-Called ‘Map Title’ Inscription

CHAPTER 9: The Pre-1957 Sources Unveiled

The Manuscript Description of Don Cristóbal Pérez Pastor

Relating Pérez Pastor’s description to the Yale manuscripts

The impact of Pérez Pastor’s description upon the Vinland Map problem

The purpose of the alteration

As seen in Madrid: the Speculum Historiale-Tartar Relation codex at the Exposición Histórico-Europea, 1892–1893

Evaluation of the Catálogo General description

CHAPTER 10: A Closer Look at the New-Found Sources

The Palencia Connection: A Phantom Link

Additional Gleanings from the Catálogo General

CHAPTER 11: The Scientific Quest for Anachronism

Chronological Survey of Scientific Contributions to the Vinland Map Debate

Reflections on the Scientific Debate

A: The British Museum Research Laboratory study

B: The McCrone studies

C: The UC Davis PIXE study

D: The Brown and Clark Raman spectrographic study

E: The Harbottle paper and the response of Towe et al.

Chapter Conclusion

CHAPTER 12: The Cartographical Quest for Anachronism

The Mercator World Map of 1569

The Maggiolo World Map of 1511 (and a map published by Armando Cortesão)

The Atlas of Angelo Freducci, 1556

A modern map of Asia in the Schul-Atlas of Carl Diercke

Elements of Map Projection by Deetz and Adams (and articles in Imago Mundi dealing with magnetic variation)

The Case of Greenland

Chapter Conclusion

CHAPTER 13: A Cartographical Solution

The Azores and the Madeira Islands

The Black Sea

The Sea of Marmara

Other Features in the eastern Mediterranean region

Mediterranean Coastline west of the Nile

The Iberian Peninsula

The north coast of Denmark

Ireland, Britain and the facing coastline of continental Europe

Chapter Conclusion

JOURNEY’S END

APPENDIX A

Latin Manuscripts from Zaragoza Cathedral Library presently at New Haven

APPENDIX B

Latin Manuscripts from Zaragoza Cathedral Library presently at the University of Pennsylvania

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Archival, manuscript and other unpublished sources

Published sources

John Paul Floyd

A Sorry Saga

Theft, Forgery, Scholarship… and the Vinland Map

© John Paul Floyd 2018. All rights reserved.

This work is independently published. No portion of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted save with written permission or in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, or under the terms of any licence permitting limited copying issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

The author has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

While all hyperlinks in this work have been validated immediately prior to publication, no guarantee can be given that these links will continue to operate, and no responsibility can be accepted for the changing content of external sites.

Cover image of Viking used under license from Shutterstock.com. The Vinland Map is the property of the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.

List of Illustrations

Figures

1. Cover of volume containing the Vinland Map and the Tartar Relation

2. The Vinland Map: recto of first leaf

3. The Vinland Map: verso of first leaf and recto of second leaf

4. The Tartar Relation: recto of first leaf

5. The Speculum Historiale: cover of volume

6. The Speculum Historiale: recto of first leaf

7. Beinecke MSS 350A and 350: the paths to Yale

8. Father Fischer’s concept of the Norse experience of North America

9. The Norse experience of North America as it appears on the Vinland Map

10. Storm, Studies on the Vineland Voyages, Fig. 4

11. The concluding words of Beinecke MS 350, fol. 239r

12. The inscription on the back of the Vinland Map

13. The so-called ‘map title’ inscription, excluding the word delineacio

14. The word Bogirdao in the Yale Tartar Relation (Beinecke MS 350A)

15. The original form of the so-called ‘map title’ inscription

16. Front and back views of the so-called ‘map title’ inscription

17. A modern view of the exterior of the Biblioteca Nacional de España, Madrid (formerly the Palacio de la Biblioteca y Museos Nacionales)

18. Interior of Sala X during the Exposición Histórico-Europea, 1892–93

19. Diagram by E.G.R. Taylor showing the positioning on three maps of Shetland and the Faroe Islands relative to Iceland and Ireland

20. Images corresponding to E.G.R. Taylor’s tracings in Fig. 19

21. Section of the Vinland Map alongside section of the 1436 circular world map of Andrea Bianco

22. The West African coastline as it appears on the Vinland Map and on the 1436 circular world map of Andrea Bianco

23. The inspiration for the Vinland Map’s depiction of the West African coastline, according to E.G.R. Taylor

24. The continent of Africa on the 1511 world map of Vesconte Maggiolo, the 1436 circular world map of Andrea Bianco, and the Vinland Map

25. Peninsulas on the 1511 world map of Maggiolo and on the Vinland Map, and an island on the 1436 circular world map of Andrea Bianco

26. Black Sea and the Sea of Marmara on the 1511 world map of Maggiolo, the Vinland Map and the 1436 circular world map of Andrea Bianco

27. Supposed dependence of eastern islands of the Vinland Map upon Cuba and San Domingo, as depicted in the 1556 Atlas of Angelo Freducci

28. Diagram by E.G.R. Taylor deriving the Vinland Map’s east Asian coastline from a ‘unit’ in Diercke’s modern Schul-Atlas

29. Section of map of Asia in Diercke’s Schul-Atlas, with E.G.R. Taylor’s ‘unit’ marked, and section of Vinland Map showing east Asian coastline

30. Southwest Britain and Breton peninsula in Diercke’s Schul-Atlas, the Vinland Map and the 1436 circular world map of Andrea Bianco

31. Reconstruction of E.G.R. Taylor’s ellipse, based upon her original overlay tracing

32. G.R. Crone’s ellipse

33. Eila M.J. Campbell’s ellipse

34. Plate IV of Elements of Map Projection by Deetz and Adams

35. Diagram by E.G.R. Taylor showing supposed derivation of Vinilanda Insula from Plate IV of Deetz and Adams

36. Atlantic region, as depicted on the Vinland Map and on the circular world map of Bianco (1436) (as engraved for Formaleoni, 1782)

37. Azores and Madeira group, as depicted on the fourth chart of the atlas of Bianco (1436) and on the circular world map in Bianco’s atlas

38. Azores and Madeira group, as depicted on the circular world map of Bianco (1436) and on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782)

39. Azores and Madeira group, as depicted on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782) and on the Vinland Map

40. Black Sea, as depicted on the circular world map of Bianco (1436), on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782) and on the Vinland Map

41. Aegean and the Sea of Marmara, as depicted on the circular world map of Bianco (1436), on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782) and on the Vinland Map

42. Sea of Marmara, as depicted on the circular world map of Bianco (1436), on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782) and on the Vinland Map

43. The Peloponnese and a segment of the Turkish coastline, as depicted on the circular world map of Bianco (1436), on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782) and on the Vinland Map

44. Mediterranean coastline west of the Nile, as depicted on the circular world map of Bianco (1436), on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782) and on the Vinland Map

45. Iberian Peninsula, as depicted on the circular world map of Bianco (1436), on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782) and on the Vinland Map

46. Northern coast of Denmark, as depicted on the circular world map of Bianco (1436), on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782) and on the Vinland Map

47. Ireland, Britain and the continental coastline, as depicted on the circular world map of Bianco (1436), on the engraving of Formaleoni (1782) and on the Vinland Map

Tables

1. Handwriting comparison (I): selected phrases from the Vinland Map (VM) and Tartar Relation (TR)

2. Handwriting comparison (II): selected capital letters from the Vinland Map (VM) and Tartar Relation (TR)

3. Physical features of the Pérez Pastor manuscript and Beinecke MSS 350/350A compared

4. Comparison of selected sample descriptions in the 1974 McCrone report with McCrone’s description of the same samples in his 1988 paper

Image Sources and Credits

Figs. 1-6, 9, 11, 14, 20 (centre), 21 (left), 22 (left), 23 (top left; bottom left), 24 (bottom), 25 (centre), 26 (centre), 27 (left; right (various)), 29 (right), 30 (centre), 31, 36 (left), 39 (right), 40-47 (bottom image in each case): Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University.

Figs. 23 (bottom right), 24 (top), 25 (left), 26 (left), 36 (right), 38 (right), 39 (left), 40-47 (centre image in each case): courtesy of the John Carter Brown Library at Brown University.

Figs. 21 (right), 22 (right), 24 (centre), 25 (right), 26 (right), 30 (right), 37, 38 (left), 40-47 (top image in each case): with permission from the Ministero dei Beni e delle Attività Culturali e del Turismo—Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, Venice. Reproduction prohibited.

Figs. 12-13, 15-16: Yale University Press (R.A. Skelton, Thomas E. Marston and George D. Painter, The Vinland Map and the Tartar Relation: New Edition, with an introduction by George D. Painter and essays by Wilcomb E. Washburn, Thomas A. Cahill and Bruce H. Kusko, and Laurence C. Witten II (New Haven, CT and London: Yale University Press, 1995)).

Fig. 8: Josef Fischer, Die Entdeckungen der Normannen in Amerika. Unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der kartographischen Darstellungen (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herdersche Verlagshandlung, 1902), Fig. 4 (borrowed from Gustav Storm, Studies on the Vineland Voyages, 338 (Fig. 3)).

Fig. 10: Gustav Storm, Studies on the Vineland Voyages, Mémoires de la Société Royale des Antiquaires du Nord n.s. 1884–1889 (1888): 340 (Fig. 4).

Fig. 17: Digital image, taken August 29, 2006, posted to Wikimedia Commons by Luis García (user Zaqarbal) , September 20, 2006 (accessed January 30, 2018). (My modified version of the image is distributed under the terms of the same licence).

Fig. 18: Cuarto Centenario de Colon: Recuerdo de la Exposicion Histórico-Europea, Madrid 1892 (Madrid: Rubiños, Imp., 1892).

Figs. 19, 28, 35: E.G.R. Taylor, The Vinland Map, with an Editorial Note by M.W. Richey, Journal of Navigation 27 (1974): 195-204.

Fig. 20 (right): E.G.R. Taylor, John Dee and the Map of North-East Asia, Imago Mundi 12 (1955): 103-6.

Fig. 20 (left): Google Maps. Image © 2018 TerraMetrics.

Fig. 23 (top right): Armando Cortesão, The North Atlantic Nautical Chart of 1424, Imago Mundi 10 (1953): 1-13. The Pizzigano chart is owned by the James Ford Bell Library at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, USA.

Fig. 27 (right, second from top): Giuseppe Caraci, The Italian Cartographers of the Benincasa and Freducci Families and the So-Called Borgiana Map of the Vatican Library, Imago Mundi 10 (1953): 23-45. Mantua, Biblioteca Comunale MS. 636 is owned by the Biblioteca Teresiana, Mantua.

Figs. 29 (left), 30 (left): Carl Diercke and Eduard Gaebler, Schul-Atlas über alle Teile der Erde (Braunschweig: George Westermann, 1883) (multiple later editions).

Fig. 32: G.R. Crone, The Vinland Map cartographically considered, Geographical Journal 132 (1966): 76 (Fig. 1).

Fig. 33: Eila M.J. Campbell, Verdict on the Vinland Map, Geographical Magazine (April 1974), 307.

Fig. 34: Charles H. Deetz and Oscar S. Adams, Elements of Map Projection with Applications to Map and Chart Construction (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1921), Plate IV.

Preface

I cannot quite believe that I have written a book about a map. It all began seven years ago, when I casually pulled a book off a shelf. Back in the spring of 2011, I stood idly browsing the stacks of a local university library for something interesting to read. My eyes happened to fall upon a slim published volume of papers presented at the Vinland Map Conference held in 1966. At that time I was only vaguely conscious of the existence of the Vinland Map, although I had heard of it, and had some idea that it had been discredited as a forgery. The detailed level of technical discussion in the book surprised me. It was clear that, forgery or not, a good number of reputable scholars had once taken the map quite seriously.

Delving further into the subject online, I was intrigued to learn that neither the map itself, nor the genuine medieval manuscripts with which it had been bound, had any documented history prior to their appearance on the international book market in 1957. Now, it seemed to me that, even if the map itself were a forgery, some trace of the other documents might have been left on the historical record. From what I had read, one of the associated documents, the Tartar Relation, was a very scarce text; its medieval author, Friar C. de Bridia, was unknown in any other connection. So I typed the search term C. de Bridia into Google Books, to see if the name had appeared anywhere in print prior to 1957. After sorting the results in chronological order, I was startled to discover that the search had brought up references to C. de Bridia in two nineteenth-century publications.

With just a few minutes on a keyboard and a few clicks of a mouse, I had stumbled upon new — and potentially exciting — information about the case. That evening, as far as I could tell, I was the only person in the world aware of these pre-1957 references to the medieval friar. These references, I knew, could hold the key to resolving the mystery surrounding the provenance of the Vinland Map documents.

A second discovery followed within a few days. After several hours of study, I made a finding that all previous researchers, in five decades of controversy over the map, had somehow overlooked. The Vinland Map is known to share certain key features with a genuine medieval map: the circular world map of Andrea Bianco, dating from 1436. This dependence has long been recognised. What no-one had previously realised is that the Vinland Map was not in fact copied directly from the 1436 Bianco world map. Instead, the forger was unwise enough to take an eighteenth-century engraving of the Bianco map as his template. The engraving departs from the original in a number of respects, and since the Vinland Map replicates these errors, it cannot possibly be a genuine medieval artifact. The importance of this finding rests not so much in the fact that it discredits the Vinland Map — for the majority of scholars, the map is already discredited on other grounds — but rather in the troubling question that it raises. How could such a glaringly obvious objection to the map’s authenticity have passed unnoticed by the experts in fifty years of impassioned debate?

Another flash of realisation involved the purported medieval inscription on the back of the map, which had puzzled researchers for decades. Suspicions had been voiced over the first word, delineacio, which appeared to indicate the presence of some sort of drawing overleaf (presumably the map); but excising that word on its own simply could not be made to yield a meaningful inscription. It struck me that the line would make perfect sense if, in addition to delineacio, a couple of words which follow could also be excluded. Reaching for a copy of the Yale study, I found the photograph of the inscription, and it was obvious within seconds that I had uncovered the forger’s precise tactic. Spurious words had indeed been added to a genuine medieval inscription in order to obliterate its original (and very mundane) meaning. It is actually possible to see this simply by turning the page with the reproduction in the Yale book: the genuine portion of the inscription shows through in reverse, at the top left of the map; the forged portion is barely visible. To have an insight visually confirmed in this way was very satisfying, particularly since the source of the insight was one of the descriptions written prior to 1957. It meant that the writer of the description must have seen the inscription in its original form, before it was altered; which means, in turn, that he must have set eyes upon the very piece of parchment on which the map now appears. And this is of considerable significance, since he did not mention the presence of a map.

From one of the newly-discovered nineteenth-century sources it became clear that the two medieval documents associated today with the Vinland Map were once in the possession of Zaragoza Cathedral Library. This led me to investigate an extensive series of thefts from that institution which took place in the 1950s. Researchers have long been aware of the fact that the Vinland Map trail leads back to a dealer in antiquarian books named Enzo Ferrajoli, and that Ferrajoli was convicted of stealing books from Zaragoza. The extent of the scandal, however, has not always been recognised, and its central significance to the story is often overlooked. I am the first author to have utilised the British Museum file on the thefts, and in this book I identify, for the first time, the Zaragozan provenance of a number of items in institutional collections. I have ventured to trespass upon the domain of experts in attempting to untangle the threads of this dismal affair.

There is a considerable amount of detailed analysis in the pages which follow, much of it new. (For example, my book contains the first detailed critique of the late E.G.R. Taylor’s trenchant views on the Vinland Map.) While I have made every effort to be as accurate and clear as possible, I cannot pretend that the material always makes for exciting reading. If readers feel that the codicological, scientific and geographical discussion becomes too arcane in places, I can only plead in excuse that the thicket of complexity which has grown up around the topic is not of my making. The issues raised deserve a leisurely dissection, and they receive it here.

There are many people who could have vastly improved and enriched this book with their assistance and advice, and who doubtless would have done so generously, if asked. However, I made a conscious decision at an early stage not to seek the guidance of professionals in any of the fields covered by the study. The reason is simple: I am not an academic, and I do not pretend that my book is a piece of academic scholarship. It is the work of an amateur researcher, and I have thought it appropriate, for better or worse, to keep it that way. I also wished to avoid becoming overly identified with one side of the acrimonious partisan debate over the map’s authenticity. While my findings support the position of those who have maintained over the years that the map is not authentic, I wanted to be free to criticise instances of dubious argumentation on either side.

In line with standard practice, the Bibliography of the present study lists works referred to in the main text and endnotes. Many of these works make no direct reference to the Vinland Map. Conversely, a good number of books and articles which feature the map have not found their way into the bibliography. Readers who would like to have a dedicated Vinland Map reading list should consult Leon Koczy, The Vinland Map, Antemurale 14 (1970): 163–70; Wilcomb E. Washburn, ed., Proceedings of the Vinland Map Conference (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press for the Newberry Library, 1971), 155–81, and Sandra J. Lamprecht, comp., The Vinland Map: A Comprehensive, Annotated Bibliography of Works in English, 1965–2000, Pre-Columbiana: A Journal of Long-Distance Contacts 2(1) (June 2000): 57–84.

Despite the vast number of references to the map in books and periodical literature, the Vinland Map has given rise to only one full-length scholarly work. Kirsten A. Seaver’s treatment of the subject in Maps, Myths and Men: The Story of the Vínland Map (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2004), in particular her claim to have identified the forger, has dominated the field for over a decade. Since I have found it necessary to dissent from a number of Kirsten Seaver’s conclusions, I would like to place on record here my appreciation of the careful scholarship in constant evidence in Maps, Myths and Men. I believe there are few people in the world who could honestly claim, after reading it, that they had learned nothing.

As I write these lines (June 2018), there is evidence of renewed interest in the Vinland Map. The map has just gone on display at a special exhibition at Mystic Seaport Museum, Connecticut. Fresh non-destructive scientific tests have been conducted by Yale’s Institute for the Preservation of Cultural Heritage, and a new book on the map is said to be in preparation (Mike Cummings, "Yale putting high-tech tests to its controversial Vinland Map," YaleNews website, February 28, 2018).

In another recent development (March 2018), a copy of an unpublished 2014 report to the Beinecke Library has been placed online by its authors. The report describes technological efforts to improve the legibility of handwritten text on a blank free endpaper of the binding used to cover the Vinland Map and Tartar Relation manuscripts; the purpose of making it available to a wider audience was to solicit ideas on further enhancement of the text. This should no longer be necessary, since I have been able to identify the text in question (for more information, see Chapter 1, note 29, below). I am glad to have been in a position to make this additional contribution to Vinland Map research just as the present book neared completion.

My grateful thanks are due to the staff at the Map Department of the British Library for making available their extensive collection of archival material relating to the Vinland Map; in particular to Nicola Beech for her helpful willingness to retrieve stacks of boxes from the store at short notice. I am glad to have had an opportunity to meet with Peter Barber shortly before his retirement as Head of Map Collections at the British Library, and to discuss his own recent investigation into the possible identification of the forger (see the Conclusion of this book, below). At the British Library Corporate Archive, Lynn Young and, more recently, Katie Espley, most kindly identified and facilitated access to a number of British Museum and British Library files relevant to the Zaragoza affair.

The British Museum itself retains some files on the Vinland Map and I appreciate having been afforded the opportunity to consult this material. It was a pleasure to meet with Paul Craddock at the British Museum on the occasion of my visit. Mr Craddock was present when the map was subjected to scientific examination at the museum in 1967, and has lately discussed the topic in his book, Scientific Investigation of Copies, Fakes and Forgeries (Oxford; Burlington, MA: Elsevier/Butterworth-Heinemann, 2009).

I am indebted to the National Library of Scotland, the National Library of Wales, Aberdeen University Library, Aberdeen Central Library, the V&A’s National Art Library and the Caird Library and Archive at the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, for the opportunity to consult various works.

Special thanks are due to Nicholas Hellen of the Sunday Times, for his concise and coherent article about my findings (Amateur scuppers ‘Viking map of US’, Sunday Times (London), June 2, 2013, p. 6). Shortly after this article was published, I was honoured to be invited to Copenhagen to give a talk on the Vinland Map at a regular monthly meeting of the Royal Nordic Society of Antiquaries (Det Kongelige Nordiske Oldskriftselskab). Meeting the Vice-President of the Society, Niels-Knud Liebgott, and his wife was a truly pleasant experience. I am particularly grateful to Det Kongelige Nordiske Oldskriftselskab for its generous financial gesture.

I am grateful to Jørgen D. Siemonsen for co-ordinating my visit to Copenhagen, and for arranging for me to speak with Danish journalist Jens Ejsing about my discoveries. I would like to thank Mr Ejsing for the resulting article (Verdenskortets hemmelighed, Berlingske (Copenhagen), 2. Sektion (Magasin), November 10, 2013, pp. 6–7). I am also pleased to have had an opportunity to meet William W. Fitzhugh of the Smithsonian Institution, and appreciate his kind words of encouragement (and those of Mr Siemonsen) with regard to my book.

Last but certainly not least, I would like to thank my family and especially my mother, without whom this book (and much else) would not have been possible.

And now, let the saga begin!

INTRODUCTION

On October 11, 1965, Yale University Press announced the sensational discovery of a world map containing the earliest known cartographic depiction of the American mainland: an image of the Vinland of the ancient Norse sagas, drawn half a century before the voyage of Columbus. The announcement unleashed an extraordinary storm of controversy that has raged, interspersed with periods of sullen calm, ever since.

The fact that the announcement of the discovery had been made on the eve of Columbus Day was perceived as an intentional affront by many in the Italian-American community, who were not slow to voice their resentment. Addressing a six-hundred-strong pre-Columbus Day rally in New York, the head of the Italian Historical Society, John La Corte, undertook to find counter-evidence that would give Yale something to think about. We’re going to put Yale University against the wall, he promised the crowd.[1]

The revelation from Yale University Press was timed to accompany the publication of The Vinland Map and the Tartar Relation, a collaborative academic study prepared by three scholars: one from the United States and two from the United Kingdom.[2] The American editor was Thomas E. Marston (1904–1984), Curator of Medieval and Renaissance Literature at Yale University Library. Thomas Marston’s contribution was an assessment of the physical and paleographical characteristics of the map and of the manuscripts associated with it. Marston’s essay also briefly recounted his own involvement in the recent history of the documents, which had been purchased by a friend of his (Laurence Witten, a New Haven book and manuscript dealer) while on a visit to Europe in 1957.

Marston’s transatlantic editorial colleagues were Raleigh A. (Peter) Skelton (1906–1970), Superintendent of the Map Room of the British Museum, who undertook an in-depth cartographic analysis of the Vinland Map, and George D. Painter (1914–2005), Assistant Keeper in charge of incunabula at the British Museum’s Department of Printed Books, who translated and investigated the historical context of a medieval Latin document known as the Tartar Relation, with which the map had been bound.

Yale actively sought to generate publicity for its scholarly volume (as the supervising editor of the monograph later drily acknowledged, Yale University Press does not like to lose money on books.)[3] Few, however, could have foreseen the colossal tidal wave of interest and controversy that actually met the announcement. Readers must have been blind and deaf not to have heard about this publication, observed a reviewer in the New York Times.[4]

One early (and highly vociferous) detractor of The Vinland Map and the Tartar Relation was a Justice of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, Michael A. Musmanno. Outraged by the Yale publication, which he regarded as a slight upon the memory and accomplishments of Columbus, Musmanno was convinced that the map had to be a forgery. At the launch of his own book on the subject the following year, he denounced the map as a Venus’ fly trap strangling historical truth.[5] The energetic approach that Musmanno brought to the controversy was reflected in his book’s uncompromising title: Columbus WAS First.[6]

The dramatic impact of the reported discovery was felt around the globe. While the notion that Norse voyagers had reached American shores around the turn of the first millennium was not novel, the triumphalist tone of Yale’s proclamation touched a raw nerve.[7] The Spanish newspaper ABC ran a group of articles under the vividly gruesome headline: Cultural Necrophagy: Yale University exhumes the corpse of a very old discredited legend.[8] Press coverage of the story over the coming weeks and months came perilously close to overgorging on the topic, with publicity given to the claims of various theorists that not only the Norse, but also the Phoenicians, Romans, Etruscans, Japanese, Chinese, Africans, Irish and Welsh might have reached the New World before Columbus.[9] Yet Another Discoverer of America, announced the London Times wearily, a year into the controversy.[10]

Not everyone took the whole business too seriously. On the first anniversary of the announcement, a group of Yale Law School students held a solemn replica map-burning ceremony in front of the Beinecke Library, where the Vinland Map was housed (and where it remains to this day). Placards included such messages as Vikings go Home!, Yale Must Turn Over a New Leif, Whoever Heard of the Knights of Ericson? and We’re with You, Chris! A counter-demonstration was staged by a Swedish student waving a sign proclaiming (in Swedish) We were here first, while another dissenter paraded the information that The Welsh Discovered America in the 12th Century.[11]

Challenges to the map’s authenticity were not confined to the ranks of Columbus’ most ardent supporters. From the outset, professional scholars were divided in their views: some accepted the map’s credentials as a pre-Columbian artifact, while others expressed reservations. Two respected British authorities, Gerald R. Crone (1899–1982), Librarian and Map Curator of the Royal Geographical Society, and Professor Eva G.R. Taylor (1879–1966), renowned for her expertise in the history of geography, were among the first to launch pointed and outspoken attacks. (Both had been supplied with photocopies of the map by R.A. Skelton, in confidence, while the Yale book was still in preparation.)[12]

Crone argued against a 1440 date for the map, but did not initially commit himself to the view that it was a twentieth century forgery.[13] Professor Taylor, who made no secret of the fact that she regarded the map as a modern fabrication, was prevented by illness from finalising her paper on the topic (it eventually appeared in print in 1974, eight years after her death).[14] A summary of the elderly academic’s objections was, however, presented by a colleague, Michael W. Richey, in the January 1966 issue of the Journal of the Institute of Navigation.[15] At the same time a copy of her extended, unpublished article was passed to the Sunday Times, which in March ran a feature article entitled Is the Vinland Map a forgery? on the basis of the criticisms.[16] R.A. Skelton responded to the attacks voiced by Taylor and Crone with a point-by-point defence of the map.[17] Echoes of the controversy, unsurprisingly, reverberated across the Atlantic.[18]

As experts in various fields made their opinions known, opposing viewpoints rapidly became entrenched. By 1971, an eminent and fair-minded scholar was deploring the fact that the map had become the source of so much publicity, heated discussion, bitter controversy, vicious reasoning, and senseless passion.[19] He could hardly have suspected how much more of the same was yet to come.

Although the weight of expert opinion has long been adverse to its authenticity, fierce argument has continued to rage over this strangely compelling artifact, with its unique cartographic features and intriguing Latin inscriptions. The scientific controversy over the dating of the Vinland Map’s ink has been, if anything, even more acrimonious. Participants in the debate have generally resolved such issues to their own satisfaction, if rarely to that of their opponents.

One fundamental question, above all, has always evaded solution: namely, the whereabouts of the Vinland Map and its associated documents prior to 1957. In this book I call attention to two overlooked sources which finally disperse the dense cloud of mystery that has, for so long, obscured the critical issue of provenance. An examination of this newly-identified source material leads to the resolution of two central textual enigmas associated with the Vinland Map documents, and endows the whole extraordinary story with an unsuspected crowning twist.

Independently of this newly-identified material, an entirely new — and, it may be felt, compelling — argument is also put forward in relation to the much-disputed question of authenticity. The argument is a visual one, based upon the unintentionally revealing manner in which a number of minor geographical features are depicted on the map.

CHAPTER 1: The Making of a Mystery

Two Remarkable Dealers

Although its existence was not revealed to the public until 1965, the Vinland Map first appeared on the scene in the summer of 1957, when two individuals brought a volume containing the map (bound with a single other manuscript) to the British Museum for examination. The men in question were Enzo Ferrajoli, a Barcelona-based Italian subject who made a living through the acquisition and sale of rare books and manuscripts to professional dealers, and a highly-respected London-based bookseller, Joseph Irving Davis.

Born in Naples to a family of noble descent, Enzo Ferrajoli Dery (1913–1967) was a cultured and intelligent individual.[1] His upright, military bearing reflected several years of active service, firstly as an officer in the Italian army during Mussolini’s conquest of Abyssinia and subsequently as a volunteer on the side of Franco’s Nationalist forces in the Spanish Civil War. He had received military decorations for heroic conduct in the latter conflict, in which he was adjutant to General Gastone Gambara, Commander-in-Chief of the Corpo Truppe Voluntarie (CTV).[2]

Ferrajoli required treatment in a field hospital after being seriously wounded, and it was there that he met his future wife: Margarita Maristany Vidal-Ribas, a volunteer nurse from a wealthy and well-connected Spanish family (her father was president of the Barcelona Chamber of Commerce).[3] Ferrajoli settled in Barcelona after his marriage, but remained an Italian citizen; he began to travel throughout western Europe, making acquisitions and selling books on behalf of private clients. His knowledge of antiquarian books and manuscripts was extensive, and he had important contacts in the trade, notwithstanding the fact that many found him (in the words of his good friend Laurence Witten) a somewhat quixotic and eccentric character.[4]

Witten noted that when Enzo Ferrajoli joined the Spanish Civil War, he did so on Franco’s side as a matter of conviction.[5] Ferrajoli has been described as a handsome and debonair young fascist.[6] We know that a Spanish police report, written years later, took a favourable view of the Italian’s political leanings, characterising him as a sympathiser of the regime.[7] Nevertheless, the extent of the Italian’s ideological commitment to fascism should not be unduly exaggerated. He certainly seems to have had no qualms about being the guest (in Irving Davis’ company) of the republican-inclined Catalan sculptor Apel-les Fenosa in 1964. ("In June we left Paris for El Vendrell, where we were soon joined by all our friends. Irving Davis came with antique booksellers like himself: Ferraioli [sic], Lyons, Mattiews . . .")[8]

Irving Davis himself had driven to Barcelona in December 1938 — at a time when the seat of the Nationalist Government was under heavy aerial bombardment from Franco’s forces — with a carload of medical supplies to assist the children of the city. (He subsequently launched an appeal among his colleagues to come to the aid of Barcelona booksellers and their families in distress.)[9] This was a strictly humanitarian operation, and the writer of Davis’ obituary emphasised that he was by no means politically or militarily inclined.[10] Still, it seems unlikely that Davis (who was Jewish) would have enjoyed such a close and productive association with Ferrajoli, had the latter been a doctrinaire supporter of fascist views.

Joseph Irving Davis (1889–1967) was a co-founder (and, since the early 1930s, the sole proprietor) of the famed antiquarian bookselling firm Davis & Orioli. By 1957 the firm had been in existence for almost five decades, having been established in 1911 by Davis in association with his friend and colleague Giuseppe (Pino) Orioli (1884–1942).[11] (Orioli is chiefly remembered for having been the first to publish D.H. Lawrence’s controversial novel, Lady Chatterley’s Lover.) Initially based in Florence, the pair transferred their business to London a few years later. Davis’ book descriptions were noted for their quiet erudition; the acclaimed antiquarian bookseller Jacob Zeitlin ranked his catalogues among those that set a high standard of scholarly notes for us all.[12]

Among Irving Davis’ circle of friends in later life were the aforementioned sculptor Apel-les Fenosa and his wife Nicole. After their introduction to Davis in the mid-1950s they became close, meeting regularly and even sharing holidays together in Europe. Nicole Fenosa recalled:

He lived in Hampstead, in a 17th-century cottage, where he had a library full of treasures. Engravings hung on the walls, among them four by Canaletto. . . . Irving Davis lived with his cats, his camellias and his collection of old Venetian glasses, from which we drank the best wines in France. . . . Irving loved to get his friends together, to which end he would invite them to his home or to a restaurant. He had a particular predilection for The Lantern House, a Chinese restaurant in Chelsea.[13]

Davis was indeed something of a gourmet, and his culinary skills were considerable. He wrote A Beginner’s Guide to Wines and Spirits in 1934, and a selection of his more exotic dishes appeared posthumously in 1969 under the title A Catalan Cookery Book: A Collection of Impossible Recipes.[14] (The first edition of this book is fittingly rare, having been issued by his friends in a limited edition of just 165 copies, as a tribute.) The 1999 reprint of A Catalan Cookery Book incorporates, as an appendix, an autobiographical fragment (not written with a view to publication) in which Davis reflects on his early life, a reprint of an obituary by poet and publisher Lucien Scheler, and reminiscences of Irving Davis by his trusted friend and fellow cook, Patience Gray.[15]

While Patience Gray’s recollections reflect her great fondness and admiration for Davis, they do not attempt to minimise the deep complexity of his character.[16]

The first time we met he shook my hand while glancing determinedly away, beside, beyond me. How many times subsequently I saw him meet others in this way. His oblique glance repudiated the direct encounter. (On reflection, I realise that all his relationships were oblique, triangulated.)[17]

For all his love of company, there would certainly seem to have been an air of detachment — even mystery — about Irving Davis. The American booksellers Leona Rostenberg and Madeleine B. Stern, who first met the London dealer in the late 1940s, were also struck by this aspect of his personality:

Davis, [wrote Stern in 1974, quoting one of her old diary entries for 1947], looks like a keen-eyed elf with goblin-like wisps of hair sprouting from his dome. Leona called him a literary hobgoblin. Despite his marvelous book acumen and his sharp business sense, there was something fey and eerie about Irving Davis. Italy was graved inside his heart. His life was punctuated by his visits there. To us he seemed to have mysterious connections. I still think of him, now that he is dead, as an Ariel with clay feet.[18]

During their visits, Davis hopped about, keeping up a constant stream of chatter interrupted only by a prolonged sucking at his ever present pipe, yet he remained always his contained mysterious self: the mercurial, difficult, enigmatic Irving Davis - an Italian exotic in London, surely a London exotic in Italy, the Italianate Englishman incarnate. He was, reflected Stern, an English Machiavelli.[19]

The obituary tribute to Irving Davis which appeared in the Book Collector in 1967 was written by Dr. H.A. Feisenberger, a notable figure within the trade in his own right and a one-time junior partner of the Davis & Orioli firm. The article, as might be expected, was mostly concerned with Davis’ memorable achievements as a bookseller, but a few words were devoted to the late dealer’s personality.

He was a man of endearing charm and was popular wherever he went. If at times he seemed to be a little offhand with people, this was due not to discourtesy but rather to his being something of a dreamer who lived largely in a world of his own from which it was sometimes difficult to extricate himself.[20]

As befitted their profession, Davis and Ferrajoli shared a special aptitude for languages. Davis had been a classical scholar at Cambridge; according to his obituary in the Times of London, he spoke Italian and French perfectly, Spanish and German well, and Latin freely.[21] As for Ferrajoli, we are told that he had a fine classical education and wrote interesting poetry in Italian, Spanish, Greek, French and Latin.[22] Given this ability to read and write (and, in Davis’ case, even speak) Latin with ease, the pair would certainly have had no difficulty in appreciating the significance — and the potential — of the promising manuscript that had come into their hands.

Two Extraordinary Documents

The two documents brought to the Museum by Davis and Ferrajoli were bound together in a slim volume within relatively modern (nineteenth- or twentieth-century) covers of gilt-tooled calf (see Figure 1).

The map of the world that has come to be known as the Vinland Map is drawn in ink on the inner facing pages of two parchment leaves, both 285 x 210 mm, held together at the fold by a backing strip. In 1957, the map was located at the front of the volume (it has since been removed from the binding, for conservation purposes).

The page which would immediately have faced the reader upon opening the volume — that is to say, the recto of the first leaf — is blank, with the exception of a one-line Latin inscription at the top (see Figure 2). The verso, or second page, of the first leaf contains the western half of the map. The depiction carries over onto the recto, or first page, of the second leaf, which contains the eastern segment (see Figure 3). The verso of the second leaf is entirely blank.

The Vinland Map is in the style of a medieval mappa mundi: a representation of the entire known world. It is drawn very much in the style of one known medieval map, in particular: a circular world map dating from 1436, believed to be the work of the Venetian navigator Andrea Bianco, which is housed in the Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana in Venice.[23]

The close relationship between the Vinland Map and the Bianco world map of 1436 has long been recognised, and the essay by R.A. Skelton in The Vinland Map and the Tartar Relation discussed the remarkable similarities between them (as well as the differences, which are equally notable). A careful comparison of the two maps reveals — as Skelton observed — striking affinities of outline and nomenclature: affinities which led the British scholar to conclude beyond reasonable doubt that the person who drew the Vinland Map had under his eyes, if not Bianco’s world map, one which was very similar to it or which served as a common original for both maps.[24]

It would be wrong, however, to give the impression that the Vinland Map is a slavish copy of the 1436 Bianco world map. For one thing, the Vinland Map is far more crudely drawn; no use is made of colour, and the decorative iconography of the Bianco map is entirely absent. Bianco’s map is circular, oriented with east at the top; in contrast, the world of the Vinland Map is compressed at the northern and southern extremities and stretched along its east–west axis, with north uppermost. The place-names on the Vinland Map are less numerous than those in the Bianco world map, and there are some notable variations in respect of their position and terminology; in particular, the seven long legends that feature on the Vinland Map are not derived from Bianco.

As far as geographical differences are concerned, a number of major departures from the Andrea Bianco-type model are immediately apparent. At the easternmost edge of the Vinland Map, a large portion of the landmass (including the site of the Garden of Eden, the traditional earthly paradise) has been eliminated. Replacing it is an area of ocean designated — uniquely, in terms of known medieval maps — Magnum mare Tartarorum: the Great Sea of the Tartars. The Magnum mare Tartarorum contains three large islands, the outlines of which appear to resemble Sakhalin Island and Japan.

The coastline of Africa in the Vinland Map corresponds to Bianco’s depiction, with the exception of its southernmost portion. Where Bianco shows a rounded coast indented by a semicircular gulf, the south of Africa is represented in the Vinland Map by an abrupt straight line. The river systems in the two maps show notable divergences, both in Africa and in Europe, and the manner in which the Vinland Map depicts a number of smaller islands (the Canaries in the west, and the islands of the Indian Ocean in the east) is at variance with their neat, detailed arrangement in Bianco.

In the north-west Atlantic, the Vinland Map transgresses Bianco’s outer limits with the inclusion of three additional islands: Iceland, Greenland and Vinland. The startlingly modern-looking outline of Greenland, and the fact that it is shown correctly as an island (and not a peninsula, as was customary in medieval representations), have been key cartographical stumbling blocks since the time of the map’s discovery. Skelton himself acknowledged that, perhaps even more than the representation of Vinland, it is the map’s delineation of Greenland which most clearly seems to lift the map out of its period and might suggest — were not the converging evidence to the contrary less strong — the work of a counterfeiter.[25]

By far the most sensational aspect of the document is, of course, the very feature which has led to it being called the Vinland Map: a large island, situated at the extreme north-west, designated Vinilanda Insula in the accompanying map inscription. The inscription informs the reader that the island was discovered by the companions Byarnus and Leiphus.[26] A more detailed legend positioned above the island recounts the voyage of Bjarni (byarnus) and his companion Leifr Eiríksson (leiphus erissonius), who are said to have discovered the rich, vine-bearing territory in the course of a sea journey through the ice from Greenland. Mention is also made of a subsequent journey to Vinland by a Bishop Henricus of Greenland, who is said to have arrived in the last year of our most Holy Father Pascal.[27]

The volume taken to the British Museum in 1957 contained one other document besides the Vinland Map: namely, a medieval manuscript entitled Hystoria Tartarorum (History of the Tartars). From the time of its publication in 1965, this text has generally been referred to as the Tartar Relation (Figure 4).

In its physical aspect, the Tartar Relation was written on a single quire (or gathering) of sixteen leaves — thirty-two pages — created by folding a stack of eight bifolium sheets in half. Prior to folding, this stack would have comprised six sheets of paper, sandwiched between a lower and an upper sheet of parchment. The result of this arrangement is that the two outermost leaves (1 and 16) and the two innermost leaves (8 and 9) of the folded quire are made of parchment.[28] Since parchment is a stronger and more durable material than paper, they serve to provide a degree of protection for the twelve inner leaves. The actual text of the Tartar Relation takes up just eleven of the sixteen leaves; the five leaves at the end are blank.[29]

The Tartar Relation is a fifteenth-century copy of an account originally composed in the year 1247. It records the outcome of a remarkable mission to the Mongol court of the Grand Khan, undertaken between 1245 and 1247 by the Franciscan friar Johannes de Plano Carpini and his companions. Although the friar (who had been a personal disciple of Saint Francis of Assisi in his youth) was aged about sixty at the time, he willingly undertook the arduous and perilous journey from Lyons to the vicinity of Karakorum and back at the behest of Pope Innocent IV, who reigned from 1243 to 1254.

Under the powerful rule of Genghis Khan (d. 1227) and his immediate descendants, Mongol forces had succeeded in subjugating much of Asia. Their methods of conquest were savage, even by the standards of the time, and the ruthlessness of the Mongol hordes made them greatly feared. Poland, Silesia and Hungary had been overrun as recently as 1241, a defeat that sent shockwaves throughout the West. Although the Mongols had unexpectedly departed Europe following the death of their emperor Ögedei (a son of Genghis, and his successor as Grand Khan), the ever-present threat of a renewed onslaught continued to trouble Christendom. It was against this background that Pope Innocent IV strove to gain an insight into the character and background of the Mongols — or Tartars, as they were often incorrectly designated in the medieval West — and to ascertain the motive behind their destructive campaigns.[30]

Historians in the mid-twentieth century were familiar with two basic narratives of the Carpini mission. The first, written by Johannes de Plano Carpini himself, is extant in two recensions: the initial account (recorded during the friars’ return journey in 1247), and a somewhat longer version, which includes material composed after the party’s safe arrival back in Lyons that November. The second (much shorter) narrative derives from an oral account of Carpini’s companion Benedictus Polonus — Benedict the Pole — who recounted his story of the journey to interested parties in Cologne, as the friars made their way back through Germany in late September 1247.[31]

When the document which accompanied the Vinland Map was examined, its text was found to differ substantially from the other versions known to scholars. The Tartar Relation evidently represented an important new source of information about the Carpini mission.

We learn from the Tartar Relation itself that it was written in 1247 on the instruction of Friar Boguslaw, the Franciscan provincial superior of Bohemia and Poland. Its author was a friar who refers to himself only as C. de Bridia.[32] Unlike Friar Boguslaw, C. de Bridia appears to have left no other historical trace. De Bridia’s report was completed on June 30, 1247, following the Franciscan mission party’s passage through Poland and Bohemia on its return route to Lyons.

Most of the information included in de Bridia’s report is also to be found (albeit somewhat differently worded) in Carpini’s own account. Nevertheless, the Tartar Relation does include some valuable independent material. Several specific references within the text to Benedict the Pole lend weight to George D. Painter’s suggestion that de Bridia most likely derived his information from a lecture given by Benedict.[33]

The general consensus of expert opinion has always favoured the authenticity of Tartar Relation as a medieval document. Nevertheless, at a symposium held in London after scientific testing of the Vinland Map ink in 1974 had led Yale University to acknowledge that the map itself may be a forgery, Francis Maddison, Curator of the Museum of the History of Science at Oxford, put forward some reasons for calling this consensus into question.[34] However, the ink discovery which appeared to condemn the map did not implicate either the Tartar Relation or its other companion document (a fragment of the Speculum Historiale), and Maddison himself was cautious enough to stress that he was essentially playing the role of Devil’s Advocate in questioning certain aspects of the text. In recent years, the discovery of a second manuscript copy of the Tartar Relation in a Swiss library — a copy which antedates the Yale manuscript by about a century — has eliminated any room for doubt there may once have been regarding the authenticity of the document.[35]

The relationship between the Vinland Map and the text of the Tartar Relation is a curious one, by any standards. While it is clear that the creator of the map made use of the medieval text of the Tartar Relation, the mapmaker appears to have been more interested in quarrying the Tartar Relation for Latin styles of expression than in using it as a source of geographical information. Entire phrases from the Tartar Relation, wrested from their original context, are adapted to serve quite unrelated purposes on the Vinland Map.[36] Despite the undisguised recycling of de Bridia’s phraseology in the map legends, the Vinland Map’s geographical indebtedness to the thirteenth-century Tartar Relation is slight. (In the Vinland Map, for example, the kingdom of the legendary figure of Prester John is located in eastern Africa. This corresponds to the position of Prester John in the 1436 world map of Andrea Bianco, but it directly contradicts the Tartar Relation text, which places him in India.)[37]

Although the Latin text of the Tartar Relation is reflected in nearly all of the longer Vinland Map legends (including the legend associated with Vinilanda Insula), it should be stressed that the focus of the Tartar Relation is entirely restricted to the mission of the friars to the east. The text makes absolutely no reference, either direct or implicit, to Vinland, Greenland, Iceland or the Vikings, and it conveys no information whatever about the geography of northern Europe.

Discussions at the Museum

Accounts of exactly what transpired at the British Museum in the summer of 1957 are sparse, and certain details remain obscure, although the general outlines of what happened seem clear enough. (It is unlikely that contemporary museum records relating to the visit of Davis and Ferrajoli ever existed; if they did, they appear not to have survived.)

Two of the experts who inspected the Vinland Map and Tartar Relation manuscripts at the British Museum on that occasion — G.D. Painter and R.A. Skelton — were subsequently invited to collaborate in the production of the 1965 volume that would bring the map’s existence to the attention of the world. (The invitation was extended at the recommendation of Alexander O. Vietor (1913–1981), Curator of Maps at Yale University Library, the supervising editor of the work.)[38] In the summer of 1957, however, Yale’s association with the documents still lay in the future. And indeed the Yale book, when it was published, made no mention of the 1957 British Museum consultation, despite the central involvement of two of its editors in that episode.

The first disclosure of the Davis-Ferrajoli visit came only in November 1966, when it was briefly referred to at the start of a two-day symposium convened by the Department of American Studies of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC to discuss the issues surrounding the map. The 1966 Vinland Map Conference, which was attended by many world-class scholars, was a closed-door meeting; however, the organisers undertook to publish a public record of the proceedings in due course (a step which was in fact taken, although the book did not appear until 1971).[39] Varying opinions were expressed by experts at the Conference in respect of the map’s authenticity, its possible cartographical and historical sources and its general significance.

Although Skelton himself attended the Conference and took an active part in the proceedings, the first mention of the museum visit came in a prepared statement read by Laurence C. Witten II (1926–1995). Witten was the New Haven bookseller who had purchased the volume in 1957 while on a buying trip in Europe. In his statement, which was followed by a question-and-answer