Geoffrey of Monmouth (c. 1135-1139): Historia Regum Britanniae, Book IX. Describing Caerleon, the Court of King Arthur.

The story of King Arthur is one of the most influential and enduring bodies of myths of the Western world. It has influenced political and cultural history in numerous ways from giving medieval British rulers legitimacy to inspiring countless painters, scriptwriters, authors, video game designers and other artists. Who was King Arthur? According to the legends, he was a mighty king of Britain. These legends have many layers: Celtic mythology, Geoffrey of Monmouth’s fantastical Historia Regum Britanniae (c. 1135-1139), and the medieval French romances. For the most familiar form of the legend, we have Sir Thomas Malory to thank. In his book Le Morte d’Arthur (1485), Malory combined, organized and reinterpreted legends from various sources. The result was the story of King Arthur and his knights, all the way from Arthur’s conception until his death in one tome.

According to the legend, King Arthur was conceived by treachery. His father, King Uther Pendragon, desired Igraine, the wife of Duke Gorlois of Cornwall, and sought the help of the wizard Merlin. He was transformed by Merlin’s magic to resemble Igraine’s husband. Deceived by his disguise, Igraine lay with the king at Tintagel. Thus Arthur was conceived. After the death of Uther, Arthur was raised in secrecy by Sir Ector. In his youth, Arthur’s life changed drastically when he pulled the mythical sword Excalibur from the stone. He became king of Britain and ruled from his court in Camelot (or Caerleon, according to Geoffrey of Monmouth), whose splendour rivaled Rome itself. He married the beautiful Guinevere, who brought the Round Table with her as part of her dowry. King Arthur founded the Knights of the Round Table who went on wondrous adventures and conquered much of Europe, including Rome itself. Eventually he was offered the crown of the Western Emperor.

The tale of King Arthur is full of adventure, courtly love, magic and wonder, but it ends in tragedy and betrayal. His close companion Lancelot had an affair with Queen Guinevere. His son Mordred, conceived when Arthur lay unknowingly with his half-sister Morgause, became his undoing. While Arthur was away fighting against Lancelot, he left Mordred in charge of the country. Mordred organized a coup and took the throne for himself. Bloody war broke out with both sides suffering casualties. In the end, only King Arthur and Mordred were left standing on the battlefield. King Arthur slew treacherous Mordred in a brutal duel, but was mortally wounded. He was carried away in a barge with women wearing black hoods, to Avalon to be healed.

This is the legend of the Once and Future King, but what was King Arthur’s Britain like in reality? Was it towering castles and glittering gold, grand tournaments, chivalry and courtly romances, or something entirely different?

First it must be made clear that nobody has so far been able to prove that King Arthur existed as a historical figure. If he was a real, living and breathing king, he might have lived during a time period known as the Arthurian age. This time period lasted from circa late 5th century to mid 6th century. It has another, less flattering name: the Dark Ages.

From this time period only very few written texts survive until the present day. We know only two British writers from the time period: St. Patrick, the Briton who became a famous Irish saint of the 5th century, and Gildas the Wise, a teacher and deacon who wrote about the history of Britain and shortcomings of his contemporaries in De Excidio Britanniae (’On the Ruin of Britannia’). Gildas paints a bleak picture of the 6th century Britannia fitting the narrative of the Dark Ages. Reality, however, was not so dark after all, as we will soon find out.

In 410 Emperor Honorius of the Western Roman Empire sent a letter to Britain and urged its towns to take care of their own defenses. This year is often considered as the official end of the Roman rule in Britain, though it has been contested and how long the dissolution lasted is a matter of debate. The beginning of the end had already started earlier. One example of this is related to coinage.

Roman Britain was a relatively poor province of the empire far away from its core. Still, in northern Britain was stationed an unusually large army: in peak years over 40 000 soldiers were stationed there. This was an eighth of the whole imperial army. Maintaining this large force required vast quantities of revenue and goods, such as grain, clothing, weapons and building materials. The army’s needs were met through extensive trade networks connecting the island with the continent. Without the Roman legions, Britain wouldn’t have been able to attract the merchants on such a grand scale. Rome was also a monetary economy. Coins were used for paying compensation to soldiers, paying taxes and in trading. After the Romans left, the whole system collapsed. The flow of coinage dried up earlier and the number of imperial soldiers decreased drastically at the end of the 4th century and beginning of the 5th century due to civil wars and ’barbarian’ attacks. Very few bronze coins arrived after 395 CE, silver coins stopped arriving after 402 CE with one exception, and gold coins followed suit in 408 CE. The last official batch of silver coins was minted by Constantine III in 407-08 CE. After that, nobody minted coins in the British Isles before the Anglo-Saxons in the 7th century. The monetary economy and tax system collapsed. Britain moved on to a barter-based economy. Everyday trade was conducted through barter. Coins minted out of precious metals still left on the island were valued based on their weight. Rulers received their due in farming products, such as grain, and cattle.

Speaking of rulers, there were plenty. After the Romans left, the former province fractured into areas ruled by local warlords and petty kingdoms. Their kings Gildas called tyrants, tyrannus in Latin. This could be a corruption of the word tigernos found in Welsh and Breton sources which means simply ’lord’. In the writings of 5th and 6th century Britain, dynastic kings, imperial usurpers and even city magistrates were called ’tryants’. Since tigernos and tyrannus sound so similar, Gildas could easily have taken the word and used it as a jab at rulers he disliked.

Kings and warlords of these new domains fought with each other. However, if you had a time machine you wouldn’t have seen knights dressed in plate armour riding armoured horses or clashes of grand armies. Instead you would most likely have seen smaller troops with warriors wearing light chain mail or scale armour. The horses they rode to battle with were unarmoured. Warriors riding horses would throw spears or javelins at their enemies which hints at a continuation of Roman traditions to some degree. Battles were often local skirmishes or raids. Gildas paints a picture of brutal subjugation of Britain by the Saxons and retreat of Britons to the west, but archaeologists haven’t found mass graves or evidence of genocide. Relationship between Britons and Saxons was more complicated and they would occasionally make alliances, especially in the 7th century. Anglo-Saxon laws gave Britons of the areas they ruled a lower position in society though.

The kingship of Britain during the Arthurian age was peripatetic. Rulers would occasionally move their whole courts instead of ruling from one permanent capital city. Old Roman towns lost their political importance and were unable to provide work for the inhabitants. They were also difficult to defend against raids, so they gradually declined. People moved back to the countryside to earn their livelihood from agriculture. Roman stone buildings such as villas were left to crumble, or their stones were repurposed. The granaries of Vindolanda fort were turned into residential buildings. Roman stones were used, for example, in building churches and defensive structures. Elites reoccupied Iron Age hillforts, fortified settlements built on hilltops, which were easier to defend than towns. They also acted as reminders of the might of their rulers. Two powerful hillforts of their time were South Cadbury, famous for its gigantic ramparts, and Tintagel, which later became known as the fabled birthplace of King Arthur. South Cadbury was a massive hillfort standing 500 feet above the plains of Somerset. It housed a giant, rectangular feasting hall, was part of an active trading network and very likely belonged to a mighty Briton ruler, warlord or king. Tintagel was a flourishing settlement and center of trade. Its inhabitants traded with the Mediterranean world, importing wine, olive oil and fine pottery. It was most likely one of the peripatetic courts of Dumnonian kings.

These examples show us that while Britain went through profound changes after the Romans left, the Arthurian age can be called the Dark Ages only when it comes to the number of written or material sources from the time period. I hope this post has shed light on the myths surrounding Arthurian Britain and dispersed the fog of war from the map of the Dark Ages. Stay tuned for more!

Until then,

Piia

Further reading:

Geoffrey of Monmouth (c. 1135-1139): Historia Regum Britanniae, The History of the Kings of Britain.

Sir Thomas Malory (1485): Le Morte d’Arthur.

Christopher Snyder (1998): An Age of Tyrants: Britain and the Britons, A.D. 400-600.

Elizabeth Archibald (ed.) & Ad Putter (ed.) (2009): The Cambridge Companion to Arthurian Legend.

Guy Halsall (2013): Worlds of Arthur: Facts and Fictions of the Dark Ages.

Mark Williams (2021): The Celtic Myths That Shape The Way We Think.

- Olaus Magnus (1555): A Description of Northern Peoples, Book 3 chapters 16-17.

Thus wrote Olaus Magnus (1490–1557), the Swedish Catholic priest and cartographer of Carta Marina I introduced in earlier posts, about Peräpohjola, the region that includes my home area, the Tornio river valley. When writing about ancient Finnish folk magic and traditions, it is also important to introduce the people who practised it: tietäjät. A tietäjä was a specialist in magic and folk religion during a time when the majority of Finns made their living from agriculture. A tietäjä had to be lujaverinen (strong-blooded). It meant that they had to have more of their own väki than regular people. They also had to be fearless and able to face the unpredictable forces of the otherworld.

Väki is a central, multilayered term in Finnish folk religion. It doesn’t translate well into English since there is no equal term in the language. In some respects väki resembles the Polynesian term mana. Väki refers to an impersonal, neutral yet unpredictable and dangerous force. On the other hand, it also means a host of beings from beyond. It was believed that different elements and phenomena, such as water, forest and iron, had väki. Kalman väki (the väki of death), also known as church-väki, was an impersonal mass of the deceased who had lost their persona. It reeked of rotten fish or burnt wool. Väki was the force which made magic work. A tietäjä stored väki in their witch pouch and controlled it. Inside the witch pouch could be, for example, graveyard soil or parts of a snake.

Besides having a lot of personal väki, a tietäjä had their own ritual equipment and, most importantly, knowledge. Back in the day, magic was used freely in everyday life. However, a tietäjä knew more spells and used them more skilfully than regular people. The most important knowledge was synty, or mythic origin of things. The Finnish folk belief held that one who knew the origin of something, such as a disease or a snake, could control it. The word tietäjä itself is strongly tied to the Finnish word for knowledge, tieto. The exact English translation of tietäjä would be ’knower’, a person who knows. As is the case with väki, tietäjä has no equivalent term in English either.

A tietäjä is not a shaman, but the origins of the tietäjä institution possibly lie in shamanism. The institution most likely developed already during the Iron Age, which started in Finland around 500 BCE and ended around the 13th or 14th century. The tietäjä institution was active for hundreds of years. It was still flourishing in the 19th century, but waned by the 20th century. However, Pekka Huovinen (d. 1961) and a few other tietäjät were still practising their profession in the 1950s.

For many practising the profession, being a tietäjä was a side job. Their main occupations were often farming or craftwork. Tietäjät were important members of their society, but attitudes towards them were sometimes ambivalent. On one hand they were respected and valued, but on the other their skills were feared. People often approached tietäjät for help and bought services from them. A tietäjä did many jobs. The most important task was healing the sick. They also investigated thefts and searched for lost items. A tietäjä could find the thief by sending church väki after them with spells. According to folk tradition, the best day to do this was Sunday, which was a holy day.

Among the jobs of a tietäjä was ensuring good fortune. They protected livestock from predators and diseases. A tietäjä also secured hunting luck, a bountiful harvest and protected travellers. Moreover, community members approached a tietäjä when they had problems in love. A tietäjä could make an unwanted suitor lose interest or ignite love in an indifferent heart.

Tietäjät were believed to possess a multitude of skills. For example, it was thought that they were able to stop bleeding with nothing but the power of thought. Tietäjät were also capable of calling the deceased to assist them. Angering a tietäjä was dangerous business: while they could help those in need, they were also able to hurt their enemies, including their property or livestock.

Lastly, a few words about the tietäjät of Peräpohjola. After all, it was almost like their homeland, as Olaus Magnus put it. The tietäjä institution has a long tradition in Peräpohjola and my hometown of Tornio. These areas were renowned for several specialised healers. Among them were blood stoppers, who were capable of stopping bleeding just with the power of thought or word. According to stories, they were able to do it even from afar. In a Tornio village called Raumo, Kaisa-Maija healed rashes. Nakkulan Maija’s speciality was healing erysipelas.

Along with healers, Peräpohjola and Tornio had seers too. Seers were people who could receive messages from the dead. They could also find thieves by looking into strong alcohol, using it as a scrying medium. The famous seers Korven Arviiti and Vähäjärven Pekka were thought to be able to see the väki of death and smell death near houses where someone was going to pass away.

Some tietäjät were so legendary that people told stories about them decades after they had passed away. One especially renowned tietäjä was Iisakki Pistokoski (1841–1902), a farmer and healer from Tornio who cured people of different ailments. He owned a steam cabinet, which he used to treat conditions such as rheumatism. I remember hearing stories about Pistokoski as a small child. According to one particular legend, he rode through the Church of Alatornio with his sledge one autumn night. Stories said that the church doors always opened to him without keys. And when the doors swung open, he flew through the church in his sledge. This sledge still exists today and is housed in the Museum of Torne Valley.

I hope you enjoyed this dive into Finnish tietäjä traditions.

See you again in the Map Room!

Until then,

Piia

Further reading:

Martti Haavio (1967/2019): Suomalainen mytologia. (In Finnish)

Matti Kuusi, Keith Bosley, Michael Branch (edit). (1977): Finnish Folk Poetry – Epic. An Anthology in Finnish and English.

Anna-Leena Siikala (1992): Suomalainen šamanismi - mielikuvien historiaa (In Finnish)

Virpi Toratti (1998): Se oli niin noitasta aikaa – kansanuskosta ja magian käytöstä Tornion seudulla 1800-luvulla. In Tornionlaakson vuosikirja 1998, pp. 159–196. (In Finnish)

Anna-Leena Siikala (2002): Mythic Images and Shamanism - A Perspective on Kalevala Poetry.

Laura Stark (2006): The Magical Self - Body, Society and the Supernatural in Early Modern Rural Finland.

Further research led me to an intriguing story about the lost colony of New Sweden (1638-1655). This small and short-lived colony was founded in 1638 on the banks of the Delaware river. Its roots were planted a year before in 1637, when the Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648) was raging in Europe, Sweden was a powerful empire and the former governor of New Netherland colony, Peter Minuit (c. 1580-1638), was completely fed up with his former employer. Minuit wanted revenge for being dismissed and sent back to the Netherlands in 1631.

He got his revenge by inciting the Swedes to establish a colony in North America. The Swedish Empire was keen on getting involved in the tobacco and fur trade. The crown also wanted to make it clear to everyone that Sweden was now one of the great powers of Europe. Minuit presented to the Swedish government a map showcasing the boundaries of other European colonies such as the Dutch and the English. Minuit showed the Swedes a huge area stretching from the Minquas Kill (present-day Christina River), up to Sankikan Kill (present-day Trenton, New Jersey), that wasn’t occupied by other European countries. This area and both banks of the Delaware River were decided to be settled as a colony of New Sweden. Minuit set sail for North America with a small group of settlers in late 1637 and arrived at the banks of the Delaware river in spring of 1638. In order for New Sweden to flourish it was crucial for the colony to have a good relationship with local Indigenous tribes. Back then several thousand members of the Lenapes were living in independent communities along the river and were regarded as the owners of the surrounding lands. Roughly the same number of Susquehannocks (also known as Minquas) lived further to the west in the Susquehanna Valley. Minuit and his group of settlers negotiated permission from the Lenape and Susquehannock sachems (North American Indigenous chiefs) to build a small fort at the mouth of the Minquas Kill. Both groups welcomed Swedish settlers as new trading partners. Settlers named the new fort Fort Christina to honour their young Queen Christina (1626-1689). Thus New Sweden was born. The colony sought trade and allegiance with its indigenous neighbours, building relatively peaceful, friendly relations with them. This was a unique situation, since colonies of European powers tended to have much more turbulent relationships with local neighbours culminating in violent conflicts disastrous for indigenous populations.

The Swedes had a much less cooperative relationship with the Dutch. The Dutch considered the whole Delaware River as their territory and were vexed to see the Swedes settle in it. However, they didn’t have enough troops to drive away the Swedes. New Sweden didn’t have much manpower either. The situation stayed somewhat the same for several years until the balance of power shifted in favour of the Dutch due to Sweden neglecting its colony between 1648 and 1654, while New Netherland received supplies and resources from its mother country. Still, New Sweden continued to expand under its heavy-handed governor Johan Printz (1643–1653). New plantations, forts, blockhouses and settlements were established. One of them was Tornio, known to the Lenape as Aronameck, which was founded in 1647.

The situation came to a head when Johan Risingh (1617–1672), the last governor of New Sweden, seized Fort Casimir from the Dutch. Peter Stuyvesant (c. 1612–1672), the governor of New Netherland, decided to get rid of the Swedish colony. He gathered troops and conquered New Sweden without bloodshed in 1655. Settlers of New Sweden continued to live as the Swedish Nation under Dutch rule, under which they were allowed to keep their own government, lands and Lutheran religion. They were also allowed to trade with local Indigenous tribes. Dutch rule came to an end less than a decade later when the English captured New Netherland in 1664.

Who were the settlers of New Sweden? Most of them were Swedes and Finns; a few were Dutch or German. Back then, Finland was the eastern part of the Swedish Empire. The Finns who left for New Sweden were not necessarily from modern-day Finland but were instead Forest Finns from central Sweden. Their traditional method of agriculture was slash-and-burn, a practice which had become a problem for the Swedish government. The crown had forbidden slash-and-burn, which was one of the reasons why sailing across the ocean became an appealing option.

Several researchers believe that the art of building log cabins came from the Forest Finns. Besides architecture, the short-lived colony of New Sweden influenced the culture of the area. Swedish and Finnish settlers often acted as mediators between English officials and the Lenapes. Traces of New Sweden can still be found today. For example, Gloria Dei Church (Old Swedes’ Church) in South Philadelphia is the oldest church building in Pennsylvania. The blue and yellow of Philadelphia’s flag pay homage to the early Swedish settlers of Pennsylvania.

And what happened to Tornio (or Torne, as it was also known) that I mentioned at the beginning? It lasted only until the fall of New Sweden in 1655 and disappeared into the mists of history. Where it once stood is now West Philadelphia. Finnish influence lasted much longer, though, and can be found in unexpected places. John Morton, one of the Founding Fathers of the United States, had Finnish roots: his great-grandfather Mårten Mårtensson was a Finn.

My next post will take you back to the fascinating world of myths and legends.

Until then,

Piia

The Norwegian sea serpent

In the upper part of the map depicting the dangerous sea between Norway and Iceland a giant sea serpent coils around a helpless ship from Gothia. According to Olaus Magnus, the Norwegian sea serpent was a colossal one to two hundred feet long and twenty feet thick serpent dwelling in the rocky coast of Norway near Bergen. Its scales were razor-sharp and black, eyes flaming red and from the neck hung eighteen inches long hair. Norwegian sea serpent was a danger to sailors, crustaceans and even livestock on dry land, warned Olaus Magnus. He described how the giant sea monster slithered out from its cave during bright nights of summer to gorge on calves, pigs and sheep. Other times it chased crustaceans such as octopuses and lobsters through the waters to feast upon them. And when the wind died down it assaulted sailors onboard their ships. Towering upon ships like an enormous pillar it snatched men from the deck and gobbled them up.

Olaus Magnus considered the appearance of the Norwegian sea serpent to be an ill-omen for the state. According to him, if the sea serpent showed up, political upheaval would follow: princes would be driven into exile, they would die, or bloody wars would break out.

The giant sea serpent wasn’t an invention of Olaus Magnus. He based his description of the monster on Biblical passages and sailors’ tales. In the Bible in Job 41 a gargantuan sea monster known as Leviathan is described as a fierce, fire breathing beast whose mouth was full of ”fearsome teeth” and back covered by ”rows of shields tightly sealed together”. In Isaiah 27:1 Leviathan is depicted as ”the coiling serpent” and ”the monster of the sea”. Since Olaus Magnus was a clergyman it can be assumed that he was aware of these passages. Sailors, Olaus’ other source of information, described a 200 feet long gigantic sea monster lurking near the coasts of Norway. Researchers have tried to figure out what was the real animal behind the Norwegian sea serpent. They have suggested various different marine animals from seals to giant squids and whales to oarfish.

Pristers

Pristers, also known as spouters, were giant, aggressive whales populating the perilous waters of Carta Marina. Olaus Magnus recounted them as 300 feet long leviathans with ”forbidding nature” that were notorious for attacking and capsizing numerous ships. Pristers had two tubes or blowholes on top of their heads from which they could shoot torrents capable of sinking even the strongest ships. In Carta Marina you can see two pristers attacking a Lübeckian ship in this manner near the coast of Iceland.

Olaus Magnus based his description of pristers in whale sightings as well as classical and medieval writings. Following Dominican friar and encyclopedist, Vincent Of Beauvais (d. 1264), Olaus Magnus claims pristers being so immense in size that when they rose above the sea waves they resembled a massive pillar. He also quotes Strabo (c. 64 BCE - c. 20 CE), a Greek geographer living in Asia Minor and the writer of Geographica. In his book Strabo narrated how Nearchus, the commander of Alexander the Great’s (356 BCE - 323 BCE) fleet, came face to face with these giant whales. According to Strabo, pristers were able to cause enormous waves and while spouting water, they could create mist so dense that people onboard ships couldn’t see their hands in front of their faces. The third source depicting the ferocity of pristers referred to by Olaus Magnus was an Italian born chaplain and historian working in the court of Castile. He was Peter Martyr d’Anghiera (1457-1526), author of De Orbe Novo chronicling early years of Spanish exploration, conquest and colonization. In his writing Peter Martyr recounts a humongous monster, perhaps a fish, shattering a galleys rudder into pieces with one blow from its tail. He also narrates how a sea monster dragged an adult man sleeping on a beach into the sea and under the waves.

While dangerous, pristers were not invincible though. Following Strabo’s accounts Olaus Magnus instructs sailors to scare away the murderous monsters by making loud noises with for example shouts or trumpets. He quotes Strabo’s description how commander Nearchus directed his ship straight to the sea blocked by pristers. Nearchus’ trumpets terrified the beasts and sent them fleeing into the depths. Olaus Magnus illustrated this in Carta Marina by having a sailor onboard the Lübeckian ship hold a trumpet preparing to scare away the attacking pristers.

The island whale

Between the Norwegian sea serpent and pristers in Carta Marina is pictured an especially treacherous monster known as the island whale. Other names of this giant are the witch whale (trolval) and the devil’s whale (teufelval). Olaus Magnus depicted it as an enormous whale whose skin resembled ”sand on the seashore”. He continues the account by describing how the island whale often lifts its back up from the water. Sailors searching for an island to rest at see the sandy apparition. Thinking they have found what they seek, sailors anchor their ship, attach it with stakes and light fire in order to start cooking their meals. The island whale has been perfectly still until it feels the heat. The massive whale plummets rapidly under the waves. Poor sailors have only a few moments to make it back to the ship lest they drown. Even this wouldn’t necessarily save them. Olaus Magnus points out that unless the anchor breaks, the island whale takes not only men but also their ships to the depths with it.

This is exactly what’s portrayed happening in Carta Marina. In the map an English ship has anchored on the back of the island whale. Two unsuspecting sailors climbed on what they thought was dry land and lit fire. The Furious whale, feeling the heat, is facing the intruder.

Like the previous two sea monsters, the island whale wasn’t either created by Olaus Magnus. It is an ages old legend told by sailors and written about by famed names. Olaus Magnus drew from earlier works such as Hexameron, written by St. Ambrose (c. 339 – 397), Bishop of Milan. This prolific writer emphasized the gargantuan size of the island whale. According to St. Ambrose, island whales were not found in shallow waters but instead they swam in the middle of Atlantic Ocean where no land was on sight. St. Ambrose described island whales as very territorial and loving their homes ”as if it were their native country”.

The island whale was already described in the legend of St. Brendan the Navigator. St. Brendan’s legend can be found in the renowned Piri Reis map (1513). The map received its name from Piri Reis (born between 1465 and 1470, d. 1554), the Ottoman admiral and cartographer who had significant influence on the art and science of cartography. When looking at the Piri Reis map one can find St. Brendans legend gathered from the mappae mundi in the upper part of the map. The legend describes how St. Brendan, early Irish saint and legendary explorer, during his travels mistook a huge fish for dry land and made fire on its back. The heat of fire irritated the fish, making it plunge back under the water.

These three were not the only sea monsters of Carta Marina, merely the ones I wanted to introduce in this post. Together with other sea monsters such as the sea swine, the rosmarus and the ziphius they haunted the seas instilling fear in seafarers.

Safe travels and favorable winds,

Piia

Further reading:

Olaus Magnus (1555): A Description of the Northern Peoples Volume III.

Ulla Ehrensvärd (2006): Pohjolan kartan historia - myyteistä todellisuuteen. Also published in English as The History of the Nordic Map - From Myths to Reality.

Joseph Nigg (2013): Sea Monsters - A Voyage around the World’s Most Beguiling Map

Jerry Brotton (2014): Great Maps - The World’s Masterpieces Explored And Explained

It is only fitting that the journey starts with maps. Mappa Mythica is framed by two maps. Both of these maps have a special meaning to me.

It was May 2024 and I had been living in Southern Finland for a bit over a decade. I went to see Karttoja, Kaukomaita ja kuviteltuja maailmoja (Maps, Distant Lands and Imagined Worlds) exhibition in Museokeskus Taika, Hyvinkää with my friends. I was immediately captivated by the beauty of incredibly detailed maps on display there. On closer inspection I found something very familiar in them: my hometown Tornio.

In the logo of Mappa Mythica you see part of Adrian Veen’s map Nativus Sueciae adiacentiumque regnorum typus (1613) centered on Tornio. I took a photograph of this map in the exhibition.

Veen’s map depicts Scandinavia and parts of Russia. It was engraved by Jodocus Hondius Jr. and published in Amsterdam in 1613. The map was dedicated to Gustavus Adolphus (Gustav II Adolf, 1594–1632), king of Sweden who turned Sweden into one of the great European powers of the time. Gustavus Adolphus also planted the seeds of Finnish land surveying by assigning Andreas Bure (1571–1646) to map areas that would later become Finland. Back in those days Finland was the eastern part of the kingdom of Sweden.

Veen’s map has been described as the best map of Scandinavia during its own time. It is also a beautiful display of skill with elegant details including Sweden’s coat of arms standing between two lions and a ship sailing at full sail.

Nativus Sueciae adiacentiumque regnorum typus wasn’t the first map where Tornio was depicted. You can also find it in an older map: Olaus Magnus’ Carta Marina (1539).

The banner of Mappa Mythica is a piece from this map centered on Tornio and surrounding areas.

Carta Marina is the first map depicting Nordic countries more or less correctly. It also shows Baltic countries, Greenland and parts of British Isles and Russia. Carta Marina was printed on nine sheets in Venice in 1539. It was a huge map measuring about 170 x 125 cm. This ambitious project took twelve years to be completed by its cartographer.

The cartographer of the map was Olaus Magnus (1490–1557). He was a Swedish diplomat, cartographer, writer and Catholic clergyman. He was a learned man and traveled widely. In 1518–1519 he traveled in Sweden, Norway and Northern Finland. During his travels he observed salmon fishing in Tornio, which he described later as a prosperous region. Olaus Magnus continued his journey up the Tornio river all the way to Pello. He stood on the shore of the same river along which I grew up and charted previously unknown areas that now frame Mappa Mythica.

His travels helped him to chart the shores of Nordic countries more accurately than anyone before him (even though accuracy of inlands left much to be desired). His other sources for Carta Marina included earlier cartography, literature and tales of sailors.

Olaus Magnus didn’t create his map in Sweden. His good relationship with King Gustav I Vasa (1496-1560) soured during the Reformation when Sweden chose to embrace the Lutheran form of Christianity. Catholic Olaus Magnus didn’t have a place in Sweden anymore. He was exiled and his property in Sweden confiscated in 1530. Pope Paul III appointed him as the next Catholic Archbishop of Uppsala following the death of his brother, the also exiled previous archbishop Johannes Magnus (1488-1544). Thus Olaus Magnus became known as the last Catholic Archbishop of Uppsala, even though he was archbishop in name only. Due to the Reformation he wasn’t able to perform his duties or set foot in Sweden again.

Carta Marina, with its astonishingly detailed depictions of folk culture and fierce sea monsters, was the authority for cartographers seeking to map the North European seas for the next fifty years. The existence of some of the sea monsters came into question a hundred years later. But why was Carta Marina filled with sea monsters? Unlike in many other maps of the time, they were not only for decoration. Their task was to teach and warn sailors of dangerous waters during times when many lives were lost at sea.

Thus Carta Marina stands at the intersection of myth and reality where medieval spirituality meets empiricism of the Renaissance. And here stands also Mappa Mythica, field journal of the cartographer of mythologies. We begin our journey from the intersection of myths and reality, fantastic and mundane. You can expect posts and notes from the field journal twice a month from today onwards. Once again, welcome to Mappa Mythica.

Hic svnt dracones — here be dragons.

Piia