The Medieval World in Maps The Church and Seafaring Define the Borders of the World How Did a Seafarer’s Chart End Up in a Clergyman’s Book?
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or nearly ten years, the Italian geographer and map historian Roberto Almagià (1884–1962) studied the medieval map treasures of the Vatican’s papal library. The Second World War, the persecution of the Jews, and postwar shortages did not discourage this dedicated Jewish professor. The first volume of the Monumenta Cartographica Vaticana series was completed in 1944 and the last one appeared in 1955. At the very beginning of his research, Professor Almagià made a surprising discovery. Upon receiving some old parchment folios, he realized at once that the elaborately illustrated manuscripts had been untouched for centuries. Closer examination revealed that this nearly two hundred-page work had been compiled in the High Middle Ages by a little-known Church scribe and illuminator, Opicinus de Canistris (1296–ca. 1353).1 Some of Opicinus’ manuscripts were known as early as the eighteenth century, but his work did not arouse much interest among researchers in medieval art, literature, or map history until recently.2 The work of Opicinus remains a curiosity of his time. His literary accomplishments do not raise him to the stature of his famous contemporaries, Dante Alighieri (1265– 1321), or Francesco Petrarca (1304–1374). He has no claim to being a major chartmaker like Pietro Vesconte (active 1311–ca. 1325)3, a Genoese cartographer influential in Venice, and he did not have wealth and influence like the learned Venetian merchant and chronicler, Marino Sanuto (ca. 1270–1343). But there is something else extremely interesting about Opicinus: he was original and innovative. Opicinus’ originality and ability to combine the knowledge of his day in a new way are exhibited in a fascinating style in the maps he drew. These allegorical maps are part of his extensive
illustrated autobiography, in which he pondered both his own faith and the spiritual state of the whole of Christendom. From the perspective of the history of cartography, the Opicinus maps are extremely interesting because they show the first influences of the geographically precise maps of seafarers (so-called portolan charts) upon the work of scholars in the Church. Scribes serving the Church in the fourteenth century were not generally aware of seafaring charts. So, where could a clergyman, such as Opicinus, familiarize himself with sea charts? Opicinus de Canistris, who came from Pavia in the Lombardy region of Italy, worked as a scribe for the papal “penitence court”, the Apostolic Penitentiary in Avignon, France, during the period (1309–1377) when the papacy was resident there. Avignon attracted the most prestigious scholars, merchant seafarers, and craftsmen of that time. It was also where three men of very different backgrounds might have met: the modest ecclesiastical official, Opicinus de Canistris; the rich Venetian chronicler, Marino Sanuto; and the first professional portolan chartmaker in history known to us by name, Pietro Vesconte. Although they may not have met in person, there was an exchange of ideas, as evidenced in Opicinus’ autobiographical writing, which he illustrated with a number of maps. Roberto Almagià investigated for years how the practical wisdom of the medieval seafarers came to be known to Church scholars. More recently, this issue has been addressed by French medievalist Patrick Gautier Dalché and Catalan map researcher Ramon J. Pujades.4 The question is interesting because instruction in seafaring was not a part of a priestly education, either in the Middle Ages or at any other time. Seafarers’ sailing charts were not based on a knowledge of the Bible or holy texts