IN 1913 I had as a keen student of early printed books joined the enter? prise of the General Catalogue of Incunabula which was then being initiated by Professor Konrad Haebler. The plan was to register all known books printed before 1500, and the scheme was conceived on an international scale, most European governments having promised their collaboration. The work was well under way in Germany and France, and the Austrian govern? ment, having formed its own commission for the purpose, undertook to afford every facility for research in its libraries. Having close family connections in Austria, I was anxious to volunteer for this interesting task and, on Haebler's proposal, I was accepted as an assistant for this purpose. That is how I came to set out on a journey through Dalmatia during the months of March, April, and May 1914, in the course of which I visited fortynine libraries in that beautiful country, then a province of the Austrian Empire. Most of these libraries were in Franciscan convents, generally ancient and very poor foundations. Their books were few but often quite interesting, because they had mostly stood on their shelves for centuries. Accessions after 1600 were exceptional. The harvest of otherwise unknown incunabula, which I had hoped for, was meagre and would hardly have justified three months' travelling. But apart from the enjoyable and instructive experience of getting acquainted with a picturesque and interesting country I achieved some results, though of the finds I made only a few were of strictly bibliographical interest and one of the best was entirely outside my province. Among the Franciscan convents I visited was that on the island called Lesina in Italian, Hvar in Croat. An ancient little house with a neglected, dusty, and thoroughly unimportant library. They had a few hundred volumes, all fairly old, and no catalogue. When I had finished looking through their books, I had registered thirty-six incunabula, all rather coramonplace theological works printed in Venice. But among their folios I found a fairly good copy of the Strassburg, 1525, Ptolemy atlas. Looking through it I found on the fly leaves at the end of the volume a double-page hand-painted map, or rather a navigation chart on paper with the rhumb lines crossing a blue sea and some attractive looking towns with towers and cupolas painted red and yellow behind the coasts. Tl}e land was greenish, and some of the islands bright scarlet. The size of the chart, including margins, but not the scale at the foot, was approximately 43 ^29-5 cms. For a long time I could not make out what sea it represented. There were plenty of place-names along the coasts, and the writing was clear enough: Odatubissi, Charutebassi, Allamoy, Chiseliha, and so forth. Not a single name could I find that sounded familiar. The writer was using the Italian language. There was a Monte de Codeman, a Montagna de Balcan, a Cavo e Monte de Ursach, a Porta de Ferro. He also knew Latin; for here was the Monte de Marochos hic est serpens magnus. But where were all these places ? At last I found in one corner, quite inconspicuous and rather faint, the legend Mare de bachu. That gave me the clue: it was the Caspian Sea.
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Nov 6, 2003
D Wahlsten 
Open Access
