It’s rare for a general purpose map to give attention to what is under the ground as well as to what is on the surface. This map shows the county of Akershus in Norway, centred around Christiania (now Oslo), in the eighteenth century. The map was drawn by Johann Baptist Homann, a largely self taught cartographer and engraver, in 1729. The area is described by a Latinized version of its name, Aggerhusiensis. About a quarter of the map is taken up by an illustration of a mine, with the surface cut away to show the internal workings.
The map appears here in a general atlas, titled Atlas geographicus maior, published in Nuremberg by the heirs of Homann in 1798. The company was founded by Homann in 1702; he built a successful map publishing business, both creating his own maps and publishing those of others. He was succeeded by his son Johann Christoph Homann, who died young, and the company passed to friends, and connections by marriage, who continued the company as Homännische Erben (Homann Heirs). It lasted into the mid-nineteenth century and issued over 900 maps, a remarkably long run. The atlas, as its title suggests, is very large, containing 152 maps, and covering most of the world apart from Germany. A second volume of 124 maps concentrates on Germany alone. There is extensive geographical text in German, but the maps are mainly in Latin.
Activities in and around the mine are shown in some detail, providing an interesting view of early mining processes. There are ladders to move between levels and a pulley system, and a furnace in the background, perhaps for the iron working associated with the area. Near the top, a stream has been diverted to turn a water wheel.
There is nothing specifically Christmassy about this map, but somehow it felt appropriate to this time of year. Perhaps it’s the combination of the clearing of paths through the snow, the little fir trees, the pale blue wash colour (a shade normally used for water, and an unusual choice for land) and the many figures working away underground like Santa’s elves.
[Edited 16/12/25 to remove reference to coal mining, as it is not clear that this is what is being mined.]
Tractus Norwegiae Danicus. Magnam diecoseos Aggerhusiensis / partem sistems editus a Johanni Baptistae Homanni … Noribergae Anno 1729. In Atlas geographicus maior. Norimbergae: Homannianis heredibus, [1798]. Map Res. 40
Held within the collections here at the Bodleian is a green scrapbook. There’s no clue inside about when the material was gathered together, the only information we have about the material comes from the shelfmark, Wood 276 b. The Wood tells us this is part of a donation of over 900 books left to the Ashmolean Museum, then transferred to the Bodleian, by Anthony Wood (1632-1695), an antiquarian and collector mainly of material relating to Oxford.
The scrapbook features a range of different items; starting with a number of World and country maps by cartographers such as John Speed and Abraham Ortelius the volume also includes plans of the hot and cold baths in Bath, portraits of Oxford dons and religious pamphlets. At roughly halfway through is a map of Oxford, probably the most frustrating we have in the collection.
Oxforde as it now lyeth fortified by his Ma.ties forces an. 1644 is a strange map on a number of levels. Its mixture of scales is off-putting, a large Oxford looms at the top of the Thames running down past smaller representations of Abingdon (‘Abbington’), Wallingford and Reading (‘Reding’) like the head of a carnivorous plant and then there’s the depiction of city itself, with soldiers between the city and siege walls larger than the buildings inside the city. And what to make of the note written in the bottom corner, ‘This map is made very false’, possibly by Wood himself. Not what you want to read when looking for accuracy.
The reason for the map’s overall design is easy to explain. Oxford was a key location in the Civil War, soon after the start in 1642 King Charles I was forced out of London by Parliamentary forces and settled in the city, taking over, along with his Queen and entourage, a number of colleges. This move proved disastrous; resources such as college silver and lead from roofs were stripped and melted down for coins and bullets, the amount of people coming into the city led to over-crowding and a number of dangerous fires and, worse of all, with the King in town the city quickly came under siege. Abingdon, Wallingford and Reading were important towns on the Thames, vital for the success of the Royalists during the War for their strategic value but by the time the map was made all three had either fallen to Parliamentary forces or soon would do so.
It is because of this way of showing Oxford in relation to the three towns that causes the problem with the map, and the reason for the handwritten note at the bottom. All existing maps of the city prior to the war had south at the top, but by including the towns to the south Oxford needed to be shown with a north orientation. To achieve this our unnamed cartographer has taken an earlier, southern orientated, map of the city and seemingly flipped round the orientation. So now, without looking too closely, all seems ok, with the two largest features on the map, the castle and Magdalen Bridge, to the west and east respectively of the city, as they should be.
We’re pretty confident we know how this has been achieved. The earlier map mentioned is the map of Oxford from John Speed’s county map of Oxfordshire, 1611, we know this because the Civil War map uses Speed’s legend and key to identify buildings. Speed has south at the top and it looks like to change this around our cartographer has held a mirror up to the edge of the map and reproduced what he sees. Here’s Speed from his 1611 map, next to what you would see in a mirror.
The problem with doing this though is the flip in orientation only works horizontally. Everything inside the city walls has stayed where they originally were so everything is now upside down. Take for example T, which is at the top of both Speed and the Civil War maps. The T is Christ Church college, which is on the road leading south out of the city on your left as you go past it, on the map it’s both on the wrong side of the road and in the north. The question is, has this been done deliberately, is this an attempt by besieged forces to confuse the enemy? This seems unlikely, Speed’s maps were well known so it’s doubtful that many would have been fooled by the deception. Which leaves one other suggestion. This is just a badly made map, hastily put together using a method not properly thought through. ‘Very false’ indeed.
Anthony Wood is one of those historical characters that more is known about his ways than his achievements. A born and bred Oxford man he grew up during the Civil War, living through the siege and fires that entailed. Wood produced a number of histories of the city and the university, one of which, the Historia et Antiquitates Universtatis Oxoniensis included what is regarded as the best portrayal of the city, David Loggan’s beautifully engraved map of 1675, which includes some of the Civil War defences (and has south at the top!)
Wood often worked with the antiquarian and collector John Aubrey who described Wood, who by this time liked to be called Anthony à Wood, as ‘a shiftless person, roving and maggoty-headed and sometimes a little better than crazed’. Others were less complimentary with one stating that he ‘was always looked upon in Oxford as a most egregious, illiterate, dull blockhead, a conceited, impudent coxcomb’.
An old letter found at the bottom of the slipcase containing a copy of Andrew Bryant’s Map of the county of Oxford from actual survey, published in 1824, sheds some interesting light on attitudes to history and the value (or otherwise) of old documents. The letter was written from one local historian to another. H.E. Salter wrote many books on the history of Oxford through the first half of the twentieth century, made a map that reconstructed the medieval city, and was one of the editors of the Victoria County History for Oxfordshire. He wrote the letter when sending, as a gift, his copy of Bryant’s map to Edmund Greening-Lamborn, a highly regarded head teacher and largely self-educated local historian who had published many articles and several books on local history and genealogy of Oxfordshire. Greening-Lamborn also wrote on other subjects, and the two men had worked together on archaeological reports. Salter remarks that “Old printed maps of the county are of little use …”, a statement that will no doubt shock many readers of this blog, although he does acknowledge that they are “nice to look at”.
The southern portion of the map. A detached portion of the county is shown as an inset.
Bryant’s map of Oxfordshire is indeed nice to look at, as well as historically informative. However, a closer reading of the letter might lead us to absolve Salter of a dismissive attitude to old maps. Salter clearly had a value for history, but he mentions the Ordnance Survey maps specifically; these covered Oxfordshire from the mid-1830s, and their accuracy and reliability meant that researching any period after they appeared is made much easier.
The letter carries no year, but is addressed from Broad Oak, in Sturminster Newton, so dates from after Salter retired to Dorset in 1942 when he was nearly 80; he died there in 1951. He remarks in the letter that “I am sending you something that I shall never need again.” There is a certain poignancy in the suggestion that, in old age and retirement, he wanted to pass the map to a younger and more active owner.
Salter’s letter to Greening-Lamborn
Bryant’s map is beautifully engraved and accurately surveyed; the copy concerned is from the latest known state of the map, which had some minor revisions made soon after its first publication in 1824. It is enhanced by hand colouring; Salter comments on the usefulness of the individually coloured hundreds, and it marks many minor features of historical interest such as mills, ferries, the names of farms, toll bridges, and minor settlements.
The map shows Oxford at the very south of the county. Historically, the River Thames was the county boundary.
The map reached the Bodleian as part of the John Johnson Collection of Printed Ephemera, which in fact includes a considerable amount of less ephemeral material, like this map. Whether Johnson ever noticed the letter is unknown; it was firmly wedged into the bottom of the slipcase and had to be extracted using a certain amount of force and small plastic ruler.
For more on the life and work of Edmund Greening-Lamborn, see this article by the Oxfordshire Blue Plaques scheme.
Map of the county of Oxford from actual survey / by A. Bryant. London : A Bryant, 1824. J. Maps 4
What we now call trench maps are an organized set of maps at a detailed scale which start on the coast either side of the French and Belgian border and go, numerically, in a north-west to south-east flow down through France and Belgium. Using pre-war French and Belgian maps as a reference these maps show an idealized landscape long since fought over and largely destroyed. Overlaying the topographical information are the trenches of of both the British and German armies, facing each other of what was often a very narrow strip of no-man’s land. German trenches were shown in full while almost always only the front-line of the British trenches would be included for security reasons*.
This map has the village of Monchy au Bois at the top, and is dated to a time between the Battles of the Somme and Arras, with ‘trenches corrected to 27-12-16’, and this sheet is edition 4a. In total there were ten different editions of this sheet made between September 1915 and November 1916, a demand on map production made possible by the Ordnance Survey providing mobile printing presses behind the front-line. The maps show an ordered topographic representation of a pre-war landscape, with villages laid out, streets, churches and countryside. In reality the village would be a ruin, as can be seen in this image from the Imperial War Museum (Image: IWM (Q 61260) of the village in June 1917
The main purpose of the maps was to give artillery positions behind the lines accurate co-ordinates for firing on enemy positions, often from information given to them by forward observation posts. Maps would be gridded, areas separated into smaller areas by a designated letter, then each square within the lettered area numbered. These squares were then divided by a broken line into 4, a,b,c and d. Finally, to give as accurate a reference as possible, ‘tick lines’ are included around the edge of the square, 10 on each line. Using this system would give a simple but highly accurate point of reference for artillery to work on.
This is how most trench maps work. Occasionally though an extra help to identify location was given on a map. Key positions would be numbered in red circles. These positions would be at junctions or corners of trenches, areas where troop movements would slow down and soldiers would inevitably bunch up. In a calculated way artillery fire would be targeting areas which would give the maximum casualties amongst enemy forces for the minimum shell use. These are extracts from the trench map showing the grid system in place and then the circled numbers at the points of junctions.
*Here’s an example of a trench map with both British and German trenches, La Bassėe, sheet 44a N.W. 1, 1918. With the extra trenches these maps become more than just an historical record of the course of a battle at a particular time. With named trenches they are part of the social history of the First World War as well.
In 1827, James Gardner published a map of the main roads of central Europe: New post map of Central Europe, exhibiting the great and secondary routes with the various stations where the relays are obtained … the whole forming a complete posting companion for the continental tourist. ‘Post’ roads were the main communication links across countries, the routes for carrying both mail and passengers in stage coaches, with regular stops to change horses. The map includes eastern England, with sea routes to the continent, and covers Europe as far south as northern Italy and as far east as Hungary. The map first appeared in 1827 and was reissued with updates for a few years thereafter; the Bodleian holds copies from 1828 and 1830.
The 1828 edition of the map
The map has an attractive design, with hand colouring to show international borders, clear symbols for categories of roads and settlements, and distances given in ‘posts’. It is dissected and mounted on cloth, enabling it to be folded in a leather case for carrying when travelling. The geographic coverage is enhanced by narrow strip maps down each side, one of western Italy (including major cultural centres such as Florence and Rome) and one of the River Rhine. Top centre is a detailed map of the ‘Route of the Simplon’, a high pass in Switzerland, newly improved in the early years of the nineteenth century by Napoleon; this is beautifully engraved by William Palmer, showing the mountains and in a different style to the rest of the maps.
The small inset map of the Simplon pass was engraved separately by William Palmer
The identity of the engraver of the main map has an intriguing story attached. The 1828 edition has his name clearly marked in the lower margin: ‘engraved by W. R. Gardner.’ The updated version a couple of years later has his name erased. It’s not uncommon for erasures of this sort to be made to printing plates, perhaps if a new publisher took them over and reissued the work, but it’s rare for it to happen quickly and when the work was still being issued by the original publisher (who may in this case have been related to the engraver, although no relationship has been identified). The explanation may well be that the engraver’s name had been disgraced.
The engraver’s name in the lower margin, fro the 1828 version of the mapIn later editions Gardner’s name has been removed, although faint traces can be seen
An advertisement in the London Gazette of September 1829 invites the creditors of William Gardner, ‘engraver and printer .. late of number 13, Harper Street, Red Lion Square’, to a meeting with the assignee of the estate to agree on a method of recovering their money; they are invited, amongst other proposals, to assent or dissent to ‘giving up to the Bankrupt’s wife such part of the household furniture, estate and effects, for the use of herself and family, as he shall think fit’; it was clearly an unfortunate situation. Bankruptcy wasn’t the whole story though; Gardner was found to have fled the country for New York with thousands of pounds in forged bills, taking one of his four children with him; one wonders about the fate of his wife and the remaining children left behind. He is described in British map engravers (quoting a contemporary report) as having ‘a very prepossessing exterior and agreeable manner’ – a charming conman, perhaps. It’s easy to understand James Gardner wishing to erase William Gardner from his map, even – or perhaps especially – if they were related.
New post map of Central Europe, exhibiting the great and secondary routes with the various stations where the relays are obtained … London: Published by James Gardner, Agent for the sale of the Ordnance Surveys &c., [1828]. Allen LRO 299
New post map of Central Europe, exhibiting the great and secondary routes with the various stations where the relays are obtained … London: Published by James Gardner, Agent for the sale of the Ordnance Surveys &c., [1830] Hope III.Cc.9
Maps come in all sorts of formats and sizes, and they also come in all sorts of different mediums as well; globes, atlases and single sheets. As well as these early printed maps are often to be found in itineraries, those wonderful descriptions of early exploration, full of tales of new lands, new people, new customs. It was often in these itineraries that readers would first see in illustrations the strange new sights that they may have only heard about previously – imagine being told what an elephant looked like, and then seeing a picture of one – and the maps, though important in themselves as cartographic records, were more often than not secondary to the written narrative and illustrations.
One such itinerary is in the office at the moment. Jan Huygen van Linschoten (1563-1611) was, as it seems with a lot of people we read about from these times, a bit of a polymath. Dutch merchant, traveller, writer and, intriguingly, a spy as well. Spy because he travelled extensively through Portuguese areas of influence in the Far East, especially around the Spice Islands of Indonesia, and then wrote about his travels in a book published in 1596, Itinerario, voyage ofte schipvaert, van Ian Huygen van Linschoten naer Oost ofte Portugaels Indien inhoudende een corte beschryvinghe der selver landen ende zee-custen… (Itinerary, voyage or navigation, of Ian Huygens from Linschoten to the East or Portuguese Indies containing a short description of the same lands and sea coasts…).
Here’s a beautiful double hemisphere World map from the start of the book with representations of the 4 continents in the corners. The map is by Jan Baptista Vrient, a Dutch geographer and cartographer.
There are a number of regional maps throughout the work, the most important considering what Linschoten’s work was dealing with was of the Far East, and the Spice Islands. The itinerary pre-dates the Dutch influence in the region but only by a few years, and the work had an influence on Dutch ambitions in the region. By the early 1600s the Dutch had started to gain control of the spice trade with the setting up of the Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie, the Dutch East India company in 1602.
As can be seen these are beautiful maps, hand-coloured and for the time accurate depictions of the regions shown.
As well as maps the books contain illustrations of flora and fauna, people and customs. Here’s a page showing different fruit trees (bamboo, mangrove and durian)
Another page has illustrations of temples and religious practises, including a pagoda and a mosque.
Itineraries have a long history, dating back to classical times in the form of a periplus, a list of destinations on a journey which would often then be expanded by Greek and other writers into more general histories through to itineraries like the one in this blog to works on travel writing as a form of social commentary (such as Daniel Defoe’s ‘Tour thro’ the whole island of Great Britain’ (1724)) on to the current trend for travel writing as a form of entertainment. Linschoten’s itinerary is a wealth of information and illustrations of the people, customs, trade and geography of the Far East. It’s just one of a number of books he wrote in the 1590s about the region and of the voyage to get there along the east coast of Africa. An English translation was published in 1598.
And here’s our spy, looking quite dapper in his ruff and whiskers. It’s wonderful to imagine the adventures and sights seen by Linschoten on his travels.
Cóvens & Mortier’s Atlas nouveau is a beautiful thing: a re-engraved copy of the work of the French cartographer Guillaume de l’Isle, it was published in Amsterdam from the 1730s onwards in several editions, expanding from a early version with around 50 maps to a much larger volume. This copy, dating from around 1745, contains 130 hand-coloured maps and occupies two large volumes. A surprise bonus at the back of the atlas is a collection of other material, maps, illustrations and text, relating largely to English history. This is unrelated to the Atlas Nouveau but of similar date, and was presumably bound in by a previous owner of the atlas.
Of particular interest is A new map of North America wherein the British Dominions in the continent of North America, and on the islands of the West Indies, are carefully laid down from all the surveys, hitherto made, and the most accurate accounts and maps lately publish’d. This is copied (with acknowledgement) from the work of a French cartographer, Louis Delarochette, engraved by the highly regarded Thomas Kitchin, and published in London by John Bowles and Son. The general tone of the map is, to be blunt, anti-French. The title continues: Also the French encroachments on the English Provinces particularly described, being an improvement on D’Anville’s, Popple’s and other maps of North America. A section below the ‘Explanation’ highlights ‘The encroachments made by the French on the British Colonies,’ with colour coding. There are little text panels across the map, some of which refer to the French ‘pretending’ that Louisiana has a greater extent than it really does, while another claims that they ‘by a piece of chicanery would reduced the limits of Acadia ceded to the crown of Great Britain.’
The title cartouche is decorated with two Native Americans, wearing elaborate headdresses and jewellery but little else. The presence of the Native American inhabitants is acknowledged on the map itself; there are the names of many tribes across the map, ‘Indian villages’ are marked, and there are descriptions such as ‘Iroquois hereditary country,’ or mention of a treaty between Great Britain and the Six Nations.
There is much other detailed information as well: mountains, rivers, settlements, natural resources, major roads and even the circuitous route taken by ships through the Gulf of Mexico to avoid the trade winds.
The map is undated, but gives an account of the taking of Fort Duquesne (now Pittsburgh) in November 1758, making it likely that this version at least dates from 1759 or later. And it predates 1763; there were numerous states of the map, with the information being updated, and after the Treaty of Paris in 1763, which brought an end to the Seven Years War between Great Britain and France (also known as the French and Indian War) the tone of the map changes completely. The second part of the title is rephrased as Also extracts from the definitive Treaty of Peace in 1763, relative to the cessions made to his Britannick Majesty on the continent of North America, and to the partition agreed on for the islands. Negative comments about the French are removed, and replaced with extracts from the peace treaty; the reference to encroachments at the bottom of the Explanation is erased entirely. The updated, peaceful version can be seen on the website of the Library of Congress.
A new map of North America wherein the British Dominions in the continent of North America, and on the islands of the West Indies, are carefully laid down from all the surveys, hitherto made, and the most accurate accounts and maps lately publish’d. : also the French encroachments on the English Provinces particularly described, being an improvement on D’Anville’s, Popple’s and other maps of North America. / This map is laid down by Delarochette and engraved by Tho: Kitchin. London: Printed for John Bowles and Son at the Black Horse in Corhnhill, [1759?]. Map Res. 39
Leo Belgicus has to be one of the most famous, as well as pictorially pleasing, of all maps. What makes this map so interesting is its direct relationship with the events taking place at the time it was made, and how these events are reflected in the map.
Novissima, et accuratissima Leonis Belgici, seu Septemdecim Regionum Descriptio, from Atlas minor sive Geographia, compendiosa in qua orbis terrarium… c.1650. Map Res 34
The first version of the map was printed in 1583, these later editions were published by the famous family of Dutch cartographers, the Visschers, with the first by Claes Janszoon around 1611. This version is by his son Nicolaus, in an atlas whose title translates rather wonderfully as ‘Atlas minor, or Geography, a compendious account of the world’. That the group of nations know as the Low Countries can be mapped in the shape of a lion was a convenient way to show a group of 17 provinces when over half of those provinces had a lion on their shields, as can be seen along the top of the map.
The lion though can also be seen to symbolize war, and power, and it was to feature regularly on maps during the 80 Years War, a conflict between the Northern Provinces and the ruling power in the area, the Spanish Empire. We can tell this map has been printed during a short truce in the fighting between 1609 and 1621 because the sword held by the lion is sheathed, and held downwards. Maps made either side of the truce show the sword held high, ready for action.
The map, symbolic in itself with the form of a lion representing the outline of the countries as well as the individual provinces, is full of smaller symbolic references. Just above the base of the tail two women, representing the northern and southern half of the Netherlands, sit on an old man, ‘d’Oude twist,’ who represents the conflict that has hopefully now passed. Around the lion are pastoral scenes, showing the countryside at peace, with harvests gathered and villages and towns under repair or expansion (‘t’vergrooten der steden’ means the ‘enlargement of the cities’). In one of the stranger parts of the map a putto, a winged figure often found around cartouches on maps, has rather ungainly fallen out of heaven and has dropped a number of concepts in the shape of various associated objects, so the candle sticks represent wealth (‘rijckdom’), while the other objects symbolize art and science (hour glass, cross-staff, lead weight for reading depths at sea and so on), all for the benefit of a nation at peace.
The atlas, in 2 volumes, is a beautiful example of Dutch cartography during the golden age of the seventeenth century. The atlases are full of regional and country maps as well as maps of the heavens; it even has a page at the end full of different types of fortifications and instruments of war.
Many pages have elaborate cartouches, the title page gives a taste of the glories within. Here Geography, one of the muses, draws the globe while Poseidon stands by. Cybele, with her crown made of city walls, measures the earth while a lion stands by.
There’s a second Leo, in the atlas. Despite the raised sword which would suggest war this is a celebratory lion. The map was made in 1648, a year of treaties and negotiation finishing with the Dutch gaining independence from Spain.
Since the 15th century, the Roman Catholic church has celebrated a ‘Year of Jubilee’ every 25 years, during which pilgrims from around the world travel to Rome for a series of events, festivals, and visits to holy sites. 2025 is one such year, with awareness having been heightened further by the recent death of Pope Francis and election of Pope Leo XIV – the first time a new pope has been elected during a Jubilee year since 1700.
Over 30 million pilgrims are expected to arrive in Rome throughout the year, in addition to the similar number of tourists which visit the Italian capital every year. While the 49-hectare Vatican City state – now the world’s smallest sovereign nation – is a focus for many, maps have long been used to guide pilgrims along itineraries of basilicas and holy sites all around Rome.
Erhard Etzlaub’s famed ‘Das ist der Rom weg‘– the first known German road map of any kind – was produced for the 1500 Jubilee, guiding travellers to Rome via a series of dotted lines across a map oriented with south (and Rome) at the top.
Southern part of ‘Das ist der Rom weg von meylen zu meylen mit puncten verzeychnet von eyner stat zu der andern durch deuczsche lantt’ (1500); Broxb. 95.24
After arriving in the fabled city, pilgrims’ accounts record the inspiring nature of encountering its holy sites:
[On St Peter’s Basilica] “In a word, ‘tis the most perfect model of decent magnificence in the world, there being an answerable uniformity, both within and without.”
From “A pilgrimage to the grand jubilee at Rome, in the year 1700″ (1701)
Title page of ‘A pilgrimage to the grand jubilee at Rome, in the year 1700. By an English gentleman‘ (1701); Douce I 102
Extract from ‘Nuova pianta et alzata della citta di Roma‘ (1705) showing St Peter’s Basilica; (E) C25:50 Rome (31)
In more recent years, official publications have been produced by Jubilee organisers to provide maps and practical information to visitors. ‘Little guide to Rome: for the pilgrims of the twentyfifth jubilee‘ (1950) (by the Press Office of the Central Committee for the Holy Year) includes a series of twenty detailed 3D maps of the city, in addition to an overview index map. These ensure landmarks are visible by rendering much of the city as grey blocks, and only notable buildings with brown pictorial representations.
Plans 1 and 13 from ‘Little guide to Rome : for the pilgrims of the twentyfifth jubilee’ (1950); M93.H00710
While some maps are produced with a very practical navigational purpose in mind, others are considerably more decorative, such as the impressive ‘Forma urbis Romae : pianta monumentale di Roma per il Grande Giubileo dell’anno Duemila‘ (The form of the city of Rome : monumental plan of Rome for the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000). At first glance, the map appears to be considerably older, with a cartographic style and surrounding cartouches reminiscent of the the Renaissance. However, the map is in fact an original work produced for the 2000 Jubilee by the Vatican Apostolic Library, engraved on a copperplate using traditional methods. The artwork around the edges of the map reveal its modernity, with modern landmarks appearing among the city’s ancient monuments.
‘Forma urbis Romae : pianta monumentale di Roma per il Grande Giubileo dell’anno Duemila‘ (2000); C25:50 Rome (100)
The Colosseum and Pantheon sit alongside Fiumicino Airport.
The Basilicas of St Peter and St John Lateran appear next to the Olympic Stadium.
A herald plays a trumpet over Termini railway station, while an airliner flies overhead.
A newly acquired map produced for the 2025 Jubilee (by Edizioni Cartografiche Lozzi) returns to a navigational use, prominently highlighting ‘Percorsi giubilari’ (Jubilee routes) around the city in yellow, navigating pilgrims around four extensive, colour-coded itineraries.
Again, helpful pictorial renderings of famous landmarks en route provide a useful navigation aid. The inclusion of accompanying information in six languages (Italian, English, French, German, Spanish, and Polish) highlights the international nature of the event, and a calendar of events is placed at the bottom. The map is foldable and laminated, clearly intended for use ‘in the field’. Whether such maps of the Eternal City will be fully digital by the time of the 2050 Jubilee remains to be seen.
‘Roma : Mappa del Giubileo 2025, percorsi del pellegrino’ (2025); C25:50 Rome (131)
The earliest jigsaws were maps, developed in the eighteenth century as educational tools for children. The map was printed on paper and pasted onto board before being cut into pieces. Rather than the interlocking pieces favoured today, the map was cut along the borders of counties, or countries, so that anyone assembling the jigsaw would learn the geography of the place shown.
The idea seems to have originated with Madame Beaumont, a French woman working in London, who ran a school in Henrietta Street in the mid-eighteenth century. She advertised the dissected maps that were available to the young ladies attending her school, for an additional charge of half a guinea. The idea was commercialised by John Spilsbury in the 1760s, who published jigsaw maps for wider sale; Spilsbury died young and although his wife continued his business, she does not appear to have developed the idea further. Others soon took it up however, and the Bodleian holds a jigsaw map of England and Wales divided into counties, published by Robert Sayer based on a map from the Traveller’s companion. Recently a second copy of this was donated to the Bodleian, with some interesting differences.
All the pieces of this puzzle have survived, even tiny Rutland
Both jigsaws feature the same map of England and Wales, cropped so that the jigsaw is an irregular shape and little of the surrounding sea is shown. One is on heavier board so the pieces are fairly chunky, while the other is flimsier. The one on heavier board also looks to have been printed while the copper plate was relatively new, as the details of the map are clear and dark; on the other (probably later) puzzle roads and hills appear fainter. Both puzzles are of course cut up along county boundaries, but the division in sea areas is slightly different, suggesting that they were cut up at random rather than to a set pattern.There are at least two areas where the the plate has been retouched; the place name of Flamborough Head is in bolder writing on the later plate, and the Isle of Man has changed slightly in shape between the two issues of the map.
The southern part of the Isle of Man on the earlier puzzleThe area has been re-engraved and is more accurate on the later versionOne box includes the original label and the name “Marianna Devereux”, presumably a former ownerThe second box has been decorated with a hand painted leaf design
The two jigsaw boxes differ as well; the chunkier jigsaw has (naturally) a slightly larger box, which has been decorated with a handpainted design, stuck on with paper. The other shows the original title, “The traveller’s companion, or the post roads of England and Wales, with the distances in measured miles.” The inside of the lid in both cases has the original label, giving the name and address of the publisher, Robert Sayer.
Both boxes carry the same label on the inside of the lid
From the beginning of commerical jigsaws there are examples of the same puzzle being made available at different quality and price. A surviving trade card of John Spilsbury advertised his dissected maps in a “chip box” for 10 shillings and sixpence, in a square box for 12 shillings, or without the sea for 7 shillings and sixpence; since the aim of the puzzle was to assemble the areas on the map, the blank area of the sea was superfluous (although to true jigsaw devotees nowadays it might be the most interesting challenge). The differing qualities of the two jigsaws here suggests that a better quality one was sold first, and a thinner, perhaps cheaper option was offered a little later.
Assembling one of these jigsaws is still an interesting test of one’s knowledge of the geography of England and Wales. It also brings home how much the English counties differ in size; the piece for Yorkshire is enormous, while Rutland is so tiny that it’s amazing it has survived. One of the puzzles has unfortunately lost Berkshire; it probably went down the back of a sofa at some point between the 1770s and the puzzle being given to an Oxford charity shop, from where it made its way to the Bodleian as a recent donation.
UPDATE: This blog previously stated that Berkshire and Oxfordshire were missing from one of the puzzles. Oxfordshire has now been found by the donor, although Berkshire is still missing and has probably been so for some time.
[The traveller’s companion, or the post roads of England and Wales, with the distances in measured miles.] London : Printed for & sold by Robt. Sayer No. 53 Fleet Street, [1775?]. (E) C17 (806)
The traveller’s companion, or the post roads of England and Wales, with the distances in measured miles. London : Printed for & sold by Robt. Sayer No. 53 Fleet Street, [1775?] John Johnson Collection, Ballam Coll. Dissected Puzzles 50
Further reading: Norgate, M. (2007). Cutting Borders: Dissected Maps and the Origins of the Jigsaw Puzzle. The Cartographic Journal, 44(4), 342–350. https://doi.org/10.1179/000870407X241908
This site uses cookies to support some content and functions, and also Google Analytics. By using this site you agree to their use. Find out more and opt out »
