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On the eve of Columbus Day, 1965, Yale University announced the acquisition of
a previously unknown map that showed a large island labeled "Vinland" in the
middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The map supposedly dated from about 1440, half a
century before Columbus made his first voyage to America. Was this proof that
the Vikings discovered the New World and that perhaps their knowledge guided
Columbus? NOVA weighs the evidence on "The Viking Deception."
Behind the map's wrinkled parchment and faded ink lies a tale of ancient
explorers, learned priests, shady book dealers, skeptical scholars, and dueling
scientists. In the four decades since its public debut, the Vinland Map has
been tested and retested. Many experts are convinced it is a fake, but others
just as fervently think it's genuine. Some of the world's foremost authorities
on the subject help NOVA sort out the issues.
Historian Kirsten Seaver, author of Maps, Myths, and Men: The Story of the
Vinland Map, provides background on the Vikings as well as the mysterious
events surrounding the appearance of the map. Scientists Anna Teetsov of
McCrone Associates, Inc., Thomas Cahill of the University of
California, Davis, and Robin Clark and Katherine Brown of University College
London discuss their independent tests of the ink, which is unlike any known
ink used in a medieval manuscript and appears to consist of two differently
pigmented layers. (To examine the Vinland Map up close, see The Map in Question.)
Art historian and calligrapher Brody Neuenschwander illustrates the methods and
materials used by medieval scribes—a key piece of evidence in
interpreting the conflicting data on the ink. Also participating are Paul
Saenger, Curator of Rare Books at the Newberry Library, Michael Henchman,
Professor of Chemistry at Brandeis University, and others.
The story of the Vinland Map began in 1957 when two book dealers, including an
Italian named Enzo Ferrajoli, approached the British Museum with an intriguing
medieval manuscript that contained an astonishing map. The curator in charge
was suspicious, especially since Ferrajoli would not reveal anything about the
map's prior history.
Ferrajoli had better luck with a young American dealer named Laurence Witten,
who bought the map and the accompanying manuscript for $3,500 and then set
about authenticating it before offering it to his alma mater, Yale University.
Witten's proof of the map's authenticity was based on a chance discovery:
the wormholes on the map exactly match those in a completely different manuscript
that came to Witten's attention. This proved that the map and the manuscript
were once bound together, presumably for a considerable period of time. Since
the manuscript could be confidently dated to the mid-15th century, the map
could be as well.
Yale alumnus Paul Mellon then purchased the map and the manuscripts for an
undisclosed sum of money, reportedly hundreds of thousands of dollars, and
donated the material to the university. On October 11, 1965, the Vinland Map was finally announced to the world. Then
the trouble began.
One problem was that Mellon had insisted that the map be kept a secret while a
scholarly volume was prepared to coincide with the announcement. This prevented
all but a handful of experts from evaluating the material. A more serious
problem arose in 1974 when chemist Walter McCrone reported that tests showed
the map's ink contained a 20th-century synthetic chemical. In 1987, chemist
Thomas Cahill challenged McCrone's finding. But in 2002 chemists Robin Clark
and Katherine Brown refuted Cahill.
The case for forgery has been further bolstered by recent radioactive carbon
tests suggesting that the map was probably interfered with during the period of extensive
nuclear testing in the early 1950s. (To see genuine medieval maps that the counterfeiter likely drew from, see The Forger's Inspiration.)
Adding up all the scientific evidence, the verdict is clear: beyond all
reasonable doubt, the Vinland Map is a fake. But where did it come from? NOVA
traces the background of Ferrajoli, the first recorded seller of the map, whose
shady dealings lead into a fascinating labyrinth of scholarly skullduggery and
political intrigue.
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Is the Vinland Map real or a first-rate forgery?
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