CONTEMPORARY with the later Catalan maps are several mainly of Italian origin which also preserve some medieval features, but show very markedly the influence of Ptolemy’s ‘Geography’, manuscripts of which were circulating in western Europe at least as early as the opening decades of the fifteenth century.
Andreas Walsperger (1448)
An early, but not very successful, attempt to reconcile the classical and medieval outlook is the world map drawn by the Benedictine Andreas Walsperger at Constance in 1448.
“In this figure,” he writes, “is contained a mappa mundi or geometrical description of the world, made out of the Cosmographia of Ptolemy proportionately to the latitudes, longitudes and the divisions by climates, and with the true and complete chart for the navigation of the seas.”
He has not made, to say the least, the best of his authorities, and the resulting map is muddled and difficult to explain. There are one or two interesting points; e.g. the use of red dots for Christian and black dots for infidel cities; also the orientation, with the south at the head.
Though the east includes the terrestrial paradise, represented by a great Gothic castle, there are some glimmerings of recent knowledge.
The Indian sea is not closed, but connected by a channel with the ocean. The island “Taperbana” is inscribed “the place of pepper”, and an unnamed island off the Arabian coast (perhaps Ormuz or Socotra) has the legend “Here pepper is sold”. Such details point to an interest in the spice trade before the Conti-Bracciolini report.

Elliptical World Map (1457)
The contrast between this map and the elliptical world map of 1457, preserved in the National Library, Florence, is striking. The latter, usually considered to be of Genoese origin, is very carefully drawn, particularly the outline of the Mediterranean. It has a number of neatly executed drawings, and legends in Latin.
Unlike most maps of this type, it has a scale, each division of which represents 100 miles.
The title is rather difficult to decipher and recalls Walsperger’s. An approximate translation is: “This is the true description of the world of the cosmographers, accommodated to the marine (chart), from which frivolous tales have been removed.”
The elliptical frame is unusual for this period, but it appears to have no great significance.
The outline, particularly in Asia, is largely Ptolemaic. After the Alexandrian, the second main authority for the eastern portion is Nicolo Conti, the Venetian traveller, who reached the east Indian islands and perhaps southern China, and whose narrative was written down by Poggio Bracciolini shortly after 1447.
Influence of Nicolo Conti
The details from Conti’s narrative make a considerable showing: e.g. the large lake in India between Indus and Ganges “of a marvellous sauerie and pleasaunt water to drink, and al those that dwell there about drink of it, and also farre off…”; the island “Xilana” (Ceylon) to the east of the peninsula; the great city “Biznigaria”, representing the Vijayanagar kingdom of southern India, which occurs in most late fifteenth-century accounts, but here sadly misplaced near the Ganges; the details of the nature of the Ganges delta; the addition of ‘Scyamutha’ (Sumatra) as an alternative name for ‘Taprobana‘.
The name Sine, for China, was also probably taken from Conti.
But it is perhaps in respect to the islands of the south-east that the map is of greatest interest. In the extreme east are two large islands, Java major and Java minor, and to the south-east two smaller islands “Sanday et Bandam”.
All these are taken from the Conti narrative: Java major is thought to be Borneo, and Java minor the island now known by that name. Though the names Sanday and Bandam have not been satisfactorily explained, the reference in the legend to spices and cloves makes it fairly certain that they are islands of the Molucca group.
If this is so, this is the first time that the much sought after spice islands appear clearly on a map.
Conti describes them as lying on the extreme edge of the known world: beyond them navigation was difficult or impossible owing to contrary winds. In the southern sea there is a note: “In this sea, they navigate by the southern pole (star), the northern having disappeared.” This also is taken straight from Conti.
The main African interest lies in the fact that, as a departure from Ptolemy’s conception, the Indian Ocean is not landlocked, and, significantly, the southern extremity of Africa does not run away eastwards, as on the Este map.
At first sight, it is not clear that Africa is completely surrounded by the ocean, but closer examination shows that the blue of the ocean and the red on the land have faded, and that a definite coastline had been originally drawn in.
Toscanelli Claim and Debate
This map has recently attracted attention by the claim of S. Crino that the famous chart which Toscanelli sent to the King of Portugal in 1474, and later but less certainly to Columbus, was a copy of it.
Crino claimed that it is of Florentine, not Genoese, origin; that the style of writing and certain other features definitely indicate that it was drawn by Toscanelli; and that it agrees closely with the letter sent to Portugal with the copy, so closely in fact that the letter is merely a commentary upon it.
All these arguments, and many more, have been warmly, even acrimoniously, contested. Without an expert and minute palaeographical investigation, it is impossible either to accept or reject the attribution to Toscanelli, but Crino presented a case which requires further examination.
The main objection to Crino’s thesis is that the letter definitely refers to a chart for navigation, while the 1457 map is primarily a world map drawn by a cosmographer.
Further, the Toscanelli chart presumably depicted the ocean intervening between the west coast of Europe and the ‘beginning of the East’.
On the map of 1457, this ocean is split into two, and falls on the eastern and western margins.
Though Crino raised many points of interest, he did not establish his case beyond reasonable doubt. Biasutti argued that the horizontal and vertical lines on the map are parallels and meridians taken from the world map of Ptolemy, and that the longitudinal extent of the old world approximately corresponds to his figure of 180°.
It is difficult to see, therefore, if this map of 1457 was similar to that sent to Portugal, where its importance lay, for this information was accessible to all inquirers.
The interest of the cartographer seems more probably to have lain in Conti’s description of the oriental spice islands and the possibility of reaching them by circumnavigating Africa.
His work is clearly related, though not closely, to the great map of Fra Mauro, his contemporary.
Fra Mauro — Overview
The world map of Fra Mauro, a monk of Murano, near Venice, is often regarded as the culmination of medieval cartography, but in some respects it is transitional between medieval and Renaissance cartography.
Fra Mauro appears to have had a considerable reputation as a cartographer, and to have been at work on a world map as early as 1447. Ten years later, he was commissioned by the King of Portugal to construct another, and for this purpose he was provided with charts showing the latest discoveries of the Portuguese (according to an inscription off the west coast of Africa).
In this work he was assisted by the chart maker, Andrea Bianco, the draughtsman of a world map dated 1436, and a number of illuminators. The map for the King, finished in April 1459, was sent to Portugal, but cannot now be traced.
Fra Mauro died shortly after, while working on a copy destined for the Seignory of Venice and completed later in 1459.
This copy has survived and is now preserved in the Marciana library at Venice. The map is circular, its diameter approximately 6 feet 4 inches, and is drawn on parchment mounted on wood.
It is full of detail, carefully drawn and coloured, and annotated with very many legends.
Though the coasts are drawn in a style recalling that of the portolan charts, loxodromes and compass roses are absent, and the effect is definitely that of a mappa mundi, not a nautical chart, especially as it is oriented with the south at the head.
Fra Mauro — Centre and Ptolemy
The convention of placing the centre of the map at Jerusalem has at last been abandoned: perhaps under the direct influence of Ptolemy, or of travellers’ reports on the great extent of the East.
This departure from orthodox practice clearly worried the friar, and he excuses himself thus:
“Jerusalem is indeed the centre of the inhabited world latitudinally, though longitudinally it is somewhat to the west, but since the western portion is more thickly populated by reason of Europe, therefore Jerusalem is also the centre longitudinally if we regard not empty space but the density of population.”
It is clear from numerous legends that Fra Mauro was very much aware of the great deference then paid to the cosmographical conceptions of Ptolemy, and the likelihood of severe criticism for any map which ignored them.
Nevertheless, in general, he stands by contemporary ideas and forestalls criticism thus:
“I do not think it derogatory to Ptolemy if I do not follow his Cosmografia, because, to have observed his meridians or parallels or degrees, it would be necessary in respect to the setting out of the known parts of this circumference, to leave out many provinces not mentioned by Ptolemy.
But principally in latitude, that is from south to north, he has much ‘terra incognita’, because in his time it was unknown.”
If Fra Mauro’s basis was less scientific than it might have been, he did at least point to the necessity for modifying Ptolemy’s ideas in the light of more recent knowledge. In one major modification, the opening of the ‘Sea of India’ to the circumfluent ocean, he was in accord with all his contemporaries.
Ptolemy, he writes, like all cosmographers, could not personally verify everything that he entered on his map and with the lapse of time more accurate reports will become available. He claimed for himself to have done his best to establish the truth.
“In my time I have striven to verify the writings by experience, through many years’ investigation, and intercourse with persons worthy of credence, who have seen with their own eyes what is faithfully set out above.”
He also displays a critical spirit when he inserts in the far north‑east of Asia, near the enclosed tribes—“I do not think it possible for Alexander to have reached so far”—and expresses his doubts about these mountains really being the Caspian range; or when he writes “Note that the Columns of Hercules mean naught else than the break in the mountains which enclose the Strait of Gibilterra.”
He had not been able to arrive at an opinion on the size of the globe:
“Likewise I have found various opinions regarding this circumference, but it is not possible to verify them. It is said to be 22500 or 24000 miglia or more or less according to various considerations and opinions, but they are not of much authenticity, since they have not been tested.”
He had therefore no very accurate knowledge of what proportion of the earth he was portraying in his map. By moving its centre eastwards, however, he had made the relative longitudinal extents of Europe and Asia approximately correct.
Putting the centre at Jerusalem had of course resulted in the longitudinal extent of Asia being reduced in relation to that of the Mediterranean: on his map he represents it as about twice the length of that sea, which is fairly accurate for that latitude.
Having enlarged Asia in relation to Europe, our cosmographer has not put the additional space to very good use.
Fra Mauro — Southern Asia and Islands
It is extremely difficult to comprehend his representation of southern Asia. From the Persian Gulf eastwards, he appears to have taken the Ptolemaic outline, but exaggerated the principal gulfs and capes, and to this outline he has fitted the contemporary nomenclature.
The great Gulf of Cambay recalls the similar feature of the fourteenth‑century charts, with the addition of the island of Diu, an important trading centre.
It is noticeable here that the order of the names from Gogo to Tana is reversed, probably an error in compilation due to the unusual orientation of the map.
Beyond Tana, India is broken into two very stumpy peninsulas, resulting in the confusion of relative positions in the interior, and in the placing of Cape Deli in the latitude of Cape Comorin. Seilan (Ceylon) appears more or less correctly related to Cape Comorin, with a note that Ptolemy had confused this island with Taprobane, and a representation of Adam’s Peak.
To the east, there is a more or less recognizable Bay of Bengal, confined on the further side by the great island of Sumatra. Into this bay flows in the north a great river here named Indus, the repetition of a mistake which seems to go back at least as far as the Catalan Atlas.
There is nothing corresponding to the Golden Chersonesus or the Malay Peninsula, but to the east again, rather surprisingly, is placed the ‘Sinus Gangeticus’, with the Ganges entering on the north: that river is therefore brought into close relationship with southern China.
A conspicuous feature in the Indian Ocean is the Maldive Islands, shown with their characteristic linear extension. Instead however of running north and south, they extend approximately from north‑west to south‑east, and this direction is emphasized in an inscription.
The position in which the Andaman Islands are shown in relation to Sumatra also suggests that there is a general tilting of the map in this area of about 45° west of north.
In the south‑east close to the border of the map is an island with the inscription “Isola Colombo, which has abundance of gold and much merchandise, and produces pepper in quantity…. The people of this island are of diverse faiths, Jews, Mahomedans and idolaters…” This refers to the district of Quilon (the “Colombo” of the Catalan Atlas) in the south of the Indian peninsula.
Arab topographers were accustomed on occasion to refer rather loosely to districts approached by sea as ‘islands’ (geztra) and this often led to confusion, as in the present instance.
This error suggests that portions of the map were probably based on written descriptions or sailing instructions by Arab merchants or pilots.
Fra Mauro, or the draughtsman of his prototype, clearly misunderstood the passage referring to ‘Colombo’. The notes attached to some of the islands, giving their direction in relation to others, as in the case of the Maldives already quoted, support this probability.
Certainly the whole southern outline of the continent as depicted here could scarcely have been taken directly from a chart drawn by a practical navigator.
To the east of the Bay of Bengal is a very large Sumatra, the first time that name appears unequivocally on a map. To the north of it, and somewhat squeezed together by the limit of the map are many islands.
As Fra Mauro states that in this region lack of space had compelled him to omit many islands, it no doubt also obliged him to alter their orientation drastically. A long legend here gives some illuminating details on the traffic in spices and pepper.
“Java minor, a very fertile island, in which there are eight kingdoms, is surrounded by eight islands in which grows the ‘sotil specie’. And in the said Java grow ginger and other fine spices in great quantities, and all the crop from this and the other (islands) is carried to Java major, where it is divided into three parts, one for Zaiton (Changchow) and Cathay, the other by the sea of India for Ormuz, Jidda, and Mecca, and the third northwards by the Sea of Cathay.
In this island according to the testimony of those who sail this sea, the Antarctic Pole star is seen elevated at the height of un brazo.” (This term has never been satisfactorily explained.)
Java major is said to be especially associated with Cathay:
“Java major, a very noble island, placed in the east in the furthest part of the world in the direction of Cin, belonging to Cathay, and of the gulf or port of Zaiton, is 3,000 miles in circumference and has 1,111 kingdoms; the people are idolatrous, sorcerers, and evil.
But the island is all delightful and very fertile, producing many things such as gold in great quantities, aloes wood, spices, and other marvels.
And from the Cavo del ver southwards there is a port called Randan, fine, large, and safe: in the vicinity is the very noble city Java, of which many wonders are told.”
The islands south of Java minor doubtless represent the Moluccas, as on the Genoese map.
There is one tantalizing point: just to the north of Java major is a small island “isola de Zimpagu”.
Can this be Cipangu (Japan), and thus the first appearance of the name on a map? It is certainly far from its correct position, but, as the cartographer has had to omit many islands for lack of room and doubtless pressed others together, this name may easily have been misplaced.
If “Java major” is not Java, but another island closer to Zaiton, the possibility is greater. All this information on the spice islands and their trade is taken from the Conti document.
Fra Mauro — China and Towns
For the representation of China, a great deal has been drawn from Marco Polo’s narrative, as for the Catalan Atlas. Fra Mauro’s delineation however differs from that of the latter in two respects: the coast of China is broken by several long and narrow gulfs, which on inspection are seen to be merely over‑emphasized estuaries or important ports such as Zaiton.
Of more interest is the improved hydrographic system. Instead of the rivers radiating from a point near Cambalec, the two principal rivers are shown with some approach to reality.
The upper course of the Quiam (the Yangtse Kiang), “the greatest river in the world”, it is true, is brought too far south, but the Hwang ho has its great upper bend clearly drawn. (There is no question, of course, of these rivers being drawn ‘true to scale’.)
The towns, and the numerous annotations, are taken directly, it would appear, from Polo’s narrative.
Most of those, for instance, which occur in his itinerary from Cambalec to Zaiton, are to be found on the map, though in no very comprehensible order, often accompanied by a drawing of a feature mentioned by Polo, or his comments, e.g. on the gold and silk of this city, or the porcelain of that; the sugar for which this district is noted or the gigantic reeds which grow in another.
In the western regions, the picture is confused owing to the inadequate space allotted to them. Fra Mauro seems to have been interested in Persia and Mesopotamia and to have drawn maps of these countries before beginning his world map.
This probably explains why they figure so conspicuously on the latter, at the expense of the features of eastern Asia.
Thus the Issik Kul, approximately in its correct relative position on the Catalan Atlas, is shown almost neighbouring on Cambalec, and other places, Armalec and Hamil, for instance, have been similarly displaced. As on the Catalan Atlas, the kingdom of Tenduc has been relegated to the north, in proximity to the ‘enclosed tribes’.
On the whole, however, a fair knowledge of China is displayed; the mid‑nineteenth century certainly knew less of the interior of Central Africa than the fifteenth century did of the interior of China.
Fra Mauro — Southeast Asia and Sources
Yule believed that Conti had probably supplied Fra Mauro verbally with information on south‑east Asia, additional to that contained in his published narrative.
In Burma, for instance, there are the cities of Perhé (the correct Burmese form), Pochang (Pagan, the ancient capital) and Moquan (Mogoung).
In the upper course of the Irrawaddy there is a note testifying to knowledge of commercial routes: “Here goods are transferred from river to river, and so go on into Cathay.”
India is also rich in towns, but for the reasons already discussed, their relative positions are faulty. Orica, Sonargauam, and Satgauam (Satganev), all in the Ganges delta, are probably due to Conti.
Goa, later to become the centre of Portuguese power in India, is entered under its earlier name of Boa Zandapur.
Fra Mauro — Africa
Africa in outline resembles the representation on the Este map, save that it is not almost severed in two by the prolongation of the ‘Sinus Ethiopicus’. Details of Abyssinian topography have been expanded to cover most of the centre and south, except for the southernmost extremity, which is separated by a river or channel from the main, and named ‘Diab’.
The detailed knowledge of the north‑east African interior extends as far as the river Zebe (?Webi Shebeli). The Nile (Blue Nile) is shown rising near a lake, undoubtedly Lake Tana, in the fountain of Geneth, a name for the source which was still in use in James Bruce’s time, more than three hundred years later.
Fra Mauro states that he obtained this information from natives of the country “who with their own hands had drawn for me all these provinces and cities, rivers and mountains, with their names—all of which I have not been able to set down in proper order from lack of space”.
It has been shown that two main causes of the confused representation of north‑east Africa are the ignorance of the cartographer about the existence of the eastern Sudan, so that he telescoped Egypt and Abyssinia together, and the failure to realize that much of the hydrographic detail available applied to one river only, the Abbai, and not to a number of distinct streams.
The Coptic Church of Abyssinia was in touch with Cairo and Jerusalem, and it was doubtless from emissaries of the Church that Fra Mauro obtained his information.
Near Lake Tana he has the name ‘Ciebel gamar’, literally ‘mountain of the moon’. Mr. O. G. S. Crawford suggests that this was the origin of the legend about the source of the Nile, and that it was only later that the site was transferred to the Equator.
The suggestion is partly retained of a ‘western Nile’ flowing from a great marsh, no doubt Lake Chad; beyond this marsh a river flows westwards to enter the ocean by two branches to the north of Cape Verde, no doubt the Senegal and perhaps the Gambia.
Fra Mauro tells us that he was supplied with Portuguese charts and had spoken with those who had navigated in these waters. Actually the only contemporary names he has are ‘C. Virde’ and C. Rosso, immediately north of the great gulf; the small river in the vicinity may be the Rio Grande.
The drawing of the coastline does not show much correspondence with reality. The Portuguese are stated to have reached the meridian of Tunis and perhaps even that of Alexandria.
Curiously enough, on the map the eastern end of the gulf may be said to be on the meridian of Tunis, as in fact the eastern terminus of the Gulf of Guinea is. (To have crossed the meridian of Alexandria, however, would have entailed rounding the Cape of Good Hope.)
By 1459 the Portuguese navigators had probably not passed beyond Sierra Leone, and it is disputed whether at that date the Cape Verde Islands had been discovered.
The delineation of the great gulf can scarcely rest on first‑hand knowledge possessed by the Portuguese.
The lack of the latest information on the map has been criticized, especially as Bianco was employed in its production, but it is scarcely justifiable to argue from this that information was deliberately withheld from the cartographer by the Portuguese authorities.
They, after all, were well informed on the progress of their navigators. In causing the world map to be drawn, they were presumably interested in the sea‑route round Africa to the Indies, and as we have seen, the latest information on the spice islands was incorporated in it.
On the southern island, ‘Diab’, already mentioned, there are a number of names, including ‘Xégiba’ (Zanzibar), ‘Soffala’ ‘Chelue’ (Kilwa) and ‘Maabase’ (Mombasa).
These names are of Arab origin, and Arabs had been active on this coast for centuries. The strength of tradition and its influence on European cartographers is strikingly illustrated in a legend placed near the southern extremity which has attracted much attention. It reads:
“About the year of Our Lord 1420 a ship or junk of India on a crossing of the Sea of India towards the islands of men and women was driven beyond the Cape of Diab and through the Green Islands and the darkness towards the west and south‑west for forty days, finding nothing but air and water, and by their reckoning they ran 2,000 miles and fortune deserted them.
They made the return to the said Cavo de Diab in seventy days and drawing near to the shore to supply their wants the sailors saw the egg of a bird called voc, the egg being as big as a seven gallon cask, and the size of the bird is such that from the point of one wing to another was sixty paces and it can quite easily lift an elephant or any other large animal. It does great damage to the inhabitants and is very fast in its flight.”
(Elsewhere he says he had spoken to persons who had been driven forty days beyond the Cavo de Soffala.) The roc is of course the fabulous bird of the ‘Arabian Nights’.
But the interesting point is that, five hundred years before Fra Mauro’s time an Arab chronicler writing about Sofala has a very similar story of a vessel not only being driven by storm but also encountering the voc.
Fra Mauro was here drawing ultimately on Arabic sources, and the doubt arises whether any significance should be attached to the date of 1420.
There is other evidence of eastern sources in this quarter: for instance, the names of the two islands Negila (Sanskrit, beautiful) and Mangula (Arabic, fortunate).
The island of Diab is probably based on reports of the existence of the great island of Madagascar.
There would be no improbability in a vessel being driven down to the latitude of the Cape of Good Hope, or of Arabs at Soffala having some inkling of the trend of the coast to the south.
It is extremely unlikely, as has been argued, that the Cape of Diab is nothing more southerly than Cape Guadafui. Fra Mauro himself certainly accepted the possibility of circumnavigating southern Africa.
On this and other evidence, Fra Mauro reached an important conclusion:
“Some authors state of the Sea of India that it is enclosed like a lake, and that the ocean sea does not enter it.
But Solinus holds that it is the ocean, and that its southern and south‑western parts are navigable. And I affirm that some ships have sailed and returned by this route.”
This map is of special interest as showing that, at least forty years before the Portuguese reached India, Arab sailing directions covering the east coast of Africa, India, and the seas beyond to the vicinity of Sumatra, or at least information derived from such sources, were available in western Europe.
Taken as a whole, the map can have offered nothing but encouragement to the Portuguese to persevere.
Transition from Mappa Mundi
By the time Fra Mauro was working on his map, the known world was expanding beyond the conventional framework of the circular mappa mundi. This expansion was both to the east and to the west, to Cathay in the east, and to the Atlantic islands in the west.
If the diameter of the map was increased to accommodate these new details, the northern and southern quadrants, correspondingly enlarged, looked more empty than ever.
In Bianco’s world map of 1436, the continental mass is placed excentrically to the embracing ocean, and eastern Asia breaks through the framework in order to leave more space in the west for the insertion of Antillia.
As we have seen, Cresques had abandoned the circular form a century earlier. When it became apparent that Jerusalem could no longer be regarded literally as the centre of the known world, the arguments for a circular frame lost much of their force.
Further, the popularity of Ptolemy’s world map also worked in this direction, apart from the fact that, without considerable knowledge of mathematics, it was impossible to fit meridians and parallels satisfactorily into a circle, that is, to construct a precise projection.
With this world map of Fra Mauro, therefore, we leave the medieval convention which had prevailed for so many centuries. The last important pre‑Columbian representation of the world was in fact a globe, the earliest to have survived.
Martin Behaim’s Globe — Overview
The main features of interest in the Behaim globe are first the fact that it is a globe and that the maker was therefore obliged to consider directly the width of the ocean between Europe and Asia; second, the strong probability that the outlines adopted on the globe, with the exception of the African coast, were taken from a printed map already fairly widely circulated; third, the persistency with which these outlines were adhered to by later cartographers and their determined efforts to force the new discoveries into this framework.
The globe has also great importance in the perennial controversy over the initiation of Columbus’ great design and the subsequent evolution of his ideas on the nature of his discoveries, though a detailed discussion of these problems lies outside the present study.
The former fame of Martin Behaim as a skilled cosmographer has now faded. Ravenstein has shown that Behaim possibly made a voyage to Guinea in 1484–5, but that he was certainly not an explorer of the southern seas and a possible rival of Columbus, and his cartographical attainments were distinctly limited.
All the available evidence tends to show that he was a successful man of business who made a certain position for himself in Portugal, and who, like many others of his time, was keenly interested in the new discoveries.
Behaim Globe — Creation and Features
In the year 1490 Martin Behaim returned to his native city of Nuremburg for a stay of three years and it was then, at the request of influential burghers that the globe was made.
Behaim received payment for “a printed mappa mundi embracing the whole world”, which was used in making the globe. Since he is said to have “expended thereon his art and pains”, he may be credited at least with amending the printed representation in the African section, though his contribution was not distinguished.
As far as one can tell from a facsimile, the drawing and illumination of the globe’s surface were carefully and attractively executed; for this the credit must go to the miniaturist, Georg Holzschuler.
The globe is twenty inches in diameter: on it appear the Equator, the two tropics, and the Arctic and Antarctic circles. The Equator is divided into 360 degrees, but these are unnumbered.
One meridian, 80° to the west of Lisbon, is shown, and this is likewise graduated for degrees. These are also unnumbered, but in high latitudes the lengths of the longest days are given.
The longitudinal extent of the old world accepted by Ptolemy was approximately 177° to the eastern shore of the Magnus Sinus, plus an unspecified number of degrees for the remaining extent of China. Behaim accepted more or less Ptolemy’s 177° and added 57° to embrace the eastern shores of China. He thus arrived at a total of 234°, the correct figure being 131°.
The effect of this was to reduce the distance from western Europe westwards to the Asiatic shores to 126°, in place of the correct figure of 229°.
There is no indication on the globe of what Behaim considered the length of a degree to be—but even if he did not go as far as Columbus in adopting the figure of 563 miles for a degree, he presented a very misleading impression of the distance to be covered in reaching the east from the west.
Since in addition, Cipangu, in accordance with Marco Polo’s report, is placed some 25° off the coast of China on the Tropic of Cancer, and the Cape Verde Islands are shown as extending to 30° west of the Lisbon meridian, the distance remaining to be navigated is virtually annihilated.
The general outline is not unlike that of the Genoese map of 1457; it is also evident that later cartographers, e.g. Contarini and Waldseemüller drew on a source common to Behaim for the features of the Indian Ocean and eastern Asia.
We are justified in assuming on these and other grounds that Behaim had not gone directly to the authorities he quotes, but had merely amended an existing world map.
No special knowledge of Conti’s narrative is shown, but a certain Bartolomeo Fiorentino, not otherwise known, is quoted on the spice trade routes to Europe.
South‑east Asia is represented as a long peninsula extending southwards and somewhat westwards beyond the Tropic of Capricorn. This feature is a remnant of Ptolemy’s geography, evolved when the Indian Sea was opened to the surrounding ocean.
The placing of Madagascar and Zanzibar approximately midway between this peninsula and the Cape must be another feature of some antiquity. Fra Mauro displays far more up‑to‑date knowledge of this area.
The new knowledge displayed is confined to Africa, or rather to the western coast for the names on the east coast, save for those taken from Ptolemy, are fanciful.
The main features of the west coast are more or less recognizable, though Cape Verde is greatly over‑emphasized. To Cape Formoso, on the Guinea coast (true position 4°12′ N., 6°11′ E.) the nomenclature differs little from contemporary usage. Beyond it, though a good deal can be paralleled in the two other contemporary sources, Soligo and Martellus, there are elements peculiar to Behaim, e.g. the ‘Rio de Behemo’, near Cape Formoso, and the ‘Insule Martini’, identified by Ravenstein with Anobom, with others of a less personal character. The coast swings abruptly to the east at ‘Monte negro’, placed by Behaim in 38° South latitude.
This is the point reached by Cao in 1483, and its true position is 15°40′ South. A Portuguese standard marks the spot.
On the eastward trending coast, there are names which seem to be related to those bestowed by Diaz, and the sea is named “oceanus maris asperi meridionalis”, a phrase which doubtless refers to the storms encountered by him.
Owing to the exaggeration of the latitudes, ‘Monte negro’ falls fairly near the position which the Cape of Good Hope should occupy. It is noticeable that the Soligo chart ends in 14° S. which is near the limit of Behaim’s detailed knowledge. We might conclude therefore that Behaim’s contribution was to reproduce this coast from a similar chart, and to add some gleanings from the Diaz voyage round the Cape.
The two personal names are not to be found on any other map: in conjunction with the attempt made to associate Behaim’s own voyage with the discovery of the Cape, we are justified in assuming that this portion of the globe at least was designed in a spirit of self‑glorification. It seems doubtful if Behaim had sailed much further than the Guinea Coast.
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