Author Archives: debbie

Nordic minecraft

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

“Nice to look at … “

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.

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

The disappearing engraver

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 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 map

In 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

French encroachments

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

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.

Comitatus Hollandiæ denuo forma Leonis Map Res. 34

Piecing the map together

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 puzzle

One box includes the original label and the name “Marianna Devereux”, presumably a former owner

The 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

Black Sash

Black Sash was a South African human rights organisation founded by liberal white women in Johannesburg in 1955 as a non-violent resistance organisation. It was so-named as the women wore black sashes on their protest meetings. Their initial campaigns focused on anti-apartheid issues such as forced removal of voters from the electoral roll, and the adoption of Pass Laws.
One way of getting this message across was to create maps showing the realities of the Apartheid system and to send them to organisations throughout the World. The Map Department here at the Bodleian was recently contacted by some of the people involved in Black Sash, the Guinness family, with this intriguing message:

The map includes detailed notes and statistical tables

“In 1977 I was temporarily resident in South Africa. In the autumn of 1977 the Black Sash organisation arranged for the production of a map, detailing the forced removal of indigenous people to their so-called Homelands. The intention was to mail copies of the map to institutions, academic and political, worldwide. It was believed that the South African authorities would try to confiscate these maps. They were, therefore, rolled up, like calendars, hand addressed and stamped, as if they were Christmas presents. My family picked a small number every day and posted them, one by one, in letter boxes round Johannesburg. At least one would have been addressed to the Bodleian. Can you tell me whether you ever received a copy/ copies of the map? If so, would it be possible to see it.”

Much to our delight, we were able to find the map posted to the Library all those years ago, which according to the accession stamp on the back was catalogued on 6 March 1978. Originally, the map was added to the collection at Rhodes House Library, but was transferred to the Weston Library in 2014 (with the rest of that collection).

The family conveyed their delight by email, and a visit was scheduled, three generations of the Guinness family visiting the Library. Back in the 1970s, the Guinness children hand-wrote the envelopes, and posted each map individually from different post boxes in and around Johannesburg. On arrival at the Library they were introduced to us as the “political activists”.

The inset shows where people were forcibly moved

Along with the map, we were able to display a later map, somewhat more sophisticated and professionally produced, yet somehow lacking the excitement and subterfuge conveyed by the original. We also called up a number of issues of the journal ‘Black Sash’ which thrilled the family as they recognised many of the names featured within each issue, and were keen to share their impressions of this visit with those individuals, many of whom they had lost contact with.

Black Sash was able to disband in 1994 with Nelson Mandela’s release from prison and the unbanning of the African National Congress.

A land divided against itself, a map of South Africa showing the African homelands and some of the mass removals of people which have taken place, also conditions in some of the resettlement areas / compiled by Barbara Waite. [Johannesburg] : Black Sash, 1977. 610.41 t.2

The same, but different

The Bodleian Library’s catalogues have a complicated history. New acquisitions are of course catalogued online and appear straight away on the online catalogue, SOLO. However, the collections have been acquired over the centuries and earlier records were made on index cards, in printed volumes and even as handwritten records. Over the years, these earlier records have been converted into online records, but the information is not always as comprehensive as it would be if we acquired the item now and catalogued it to modern standards.

This is what library catalogues looked like in the old days, kids

So when we occasionally discover that we have two duplicate records for the same thing, and that it’s been in our collections for over 200 years, this isn’t particularly surprising and can usually be tidied up quickly. A recent case proved more intriguing. We appeared to have 2 separate records for an eighteenth-century map of London. There was one record for 3 copies of the map, and another for a single copy – surely a mistake? The map is a reproduction of one made by John Leake in 1667 after the Great Fire of London. (The need for detailed surveys for reconstruction after the fire led to the making of many maps, and indeed started the map-making career of the famous John Ogilby, who made and published a detailed survey with his step-grandson William Morgan). Leake’s map was reproduced over 50 years later by the engraver George Vertue, reduced in size and with embellishments such as views of notable buildings and streets before the fire.

The red line shows the extent of the area damaged by the Great Fire

A dotted line, highlighted in red, shows the extent of the area affected, and a cartouche carries a Latin inscription by George Vertue explaining that the map is a memento of London before the fire, and is dedicated to the Society of Antiquaries of London (who published this version of the map in 1723).

The cartouche represents a ruined fragment of wall

So far this is an interesting map, but there is an associated mystery, for the two versions of it turn out to be not quite the same. In one (presumably earlier) the lower border of the map runs through the River Thames, a little way from the shore. The names of docks, wharves and so on extend into the river. The plate mark (where the edge of the copper printing plate pressed into the paper) can be seen about 0.5 cm below the edge of the map border.

The second copy is different. Although the map is almost identical, and certainly printed from the same plate, it appears that the plate has been trimmed. The lower border of the map has moved up a little and some of the writing has had to be shifted, while the words ‘The River Thames’ overlap the map border. A similar compression has happened at the top of the map. The plate mark is now only just outside the border of the map.

The later version in which the map’s lower border has been moved up

This is extremely unusual. It was common for map plates to be reused and for changes to be made to them; the map might be updated with new information, or the plate sold and the new publisher’s details added, for example. But we have rarely, if ever, seen a case where the plate was cut down to a smaller size. It is uncertain why this was done, but it’s notable that 2 of our 3 copies of the ‘reduced’ version of the map are printed on paper only just large enough to accommodate the map image. It may be that this was a way to produce the map on slightly smaller sheets, either to reduce costs or for ease of binding with other similar items. This was not a case where we needed to de-duplicate the catalogue records, but rather to retain both and explain their complex relationship in more detail.

An exact surveigh of the streets, lanes, and churches comprehendd. within the ruins of the City of London … / George Vertue [London]: [Society of Antiquaries], [1723]. Gough Maps London 8; Gough Maps London 9 & 10; Map Res. 127

Looks like reindeer

As the Christmas season approached, we wondered how many maps we could find that feature reindeer. Printed maps from the sixteenth, seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries often have decorative cartouches around the title and scale, which may reference the area portrayed on the map with local produce, wildlife, costumes or activities. This scale bar from map of Nova Zemla (Novaya Zemlya) by the celebrated Dutch mapmaker Joan Blaeu, is a nice example. It shows men in warm clothing bearing mapmaking equipment (a measuring chain, compasses, staff), observed by two reindeer. One of the map makers, surprisingly, has wings. This first appeared in Blaeu’s impressive multi volume Atlas Maior from the 1660s; this is taken from a French edition, Le grand atlas of 1667.

Reindeer make another appearance in the next map in the atlas, Fretum Nassovium, vulgo de Straet Nassou (showing the Kara Strait, between Novaya Zemlya and the Russian mainland); a cheerful looking reindeer decorates the scale bar, along with a fox and some slightly unconvincing bears.

A beautiful map of the Dvina River in the next volume also shows a group of reindeer looking out over the landscape.

An English example appears in this map of New England, engraved by Francis Lamb for a late edition of John Speed’s Prospect of the most famous parts of the world, published in the 1670s. It is one of many maps of New England in the atlas derived from Jan Jansson’s Belgii Novi. Here the deer appears on the map itself, which is also illustrated with other animals including bears, foxes and storks, all helping to fill up inland areas for which geographical knowledge was limited.

More modern maps also feature reindeer; this mid-twentieth century pictorial map of the world is a charming example:

A recent Michelin tourist map of Finland has a cover illustration showing people enjoying a sleigh ride. No doubt the reindeer are at a loose end for much of the year when Santa doesn’t need them, so are happy to give rides to tourists.:

Two final, perhaps more frivolous examples are particularly aimed at younger viewers. A seasonal map of Birmingham city centre invites visitors to follow a reindeer trail:

While Collins world atlas sticker book features a friendly reindeer for younger readers. It was one of the maps submitted by the UK to the annual International Cartographic Association exhibition as an example of UK cartography; educational maps are important!

Merry Christmas from the Map Room.

Nova Zemla, Fretum Nassovium, abd Dwina fluvius; all from Le grand atlas, ou, Cosmographie blaviane, en la quelle est exactement descritte la terre, la mer, et le ciel. Amsterdam : Chez Jean Blaeu, MDCLXVII [1667] Map Res. 45-51.

‘A map of New England and New York,’ from The theatre of the Empire of Great Britaine … as also A prospect of the most famous parts of the world. London: Thomas Bassett and Richard Chiswell, 1676. Map Res. 112

Extract from Philips pictorial globe. London: George Philip, [1959]. B1 (440)

Michelin Finland: motoring and tourist map [cover]. Paris: Michelin Éditions, 2024. C35 (334)

Brum’s Christmas reindeer trail. [Birmingham] :Central Bid Birmingham, [2024]. C17:70 Birmingham (110)

Extract from Collins world atlas sticker book. London: Collins, 2013. ICA 2013 UK 029

Adventures in maps

Many of the maps in our collections were made for, or about, travel. And even now in an age when we increasingly use satnavs or GPS to find our way, a map that you can hold in your hands has its own charm. A recent Bodleian book, Adventures in maps, uses some of these to tell the stories of 20 different journeys, on foot, horseback, train, car, sailing ship and spacecraft. They include early sea charts and explorers’ maps, as well as maps marketed when travel became more widespread and commercial. The chart below shows mariners’ routes across the Southern Ocean, many of them following the traditional ‘Clipper route’ devised in the seventeenth century to take advantage of the most favourable winds.

The dangers of sea travel are illustrated with a story by Basil Hall, a Lieutenant aboard the British frigate Endymion, who took part in the first recorded landing on Rockall in October 1811. Rockall, an isolated rocky islet in the North Atlantic, is over 300 km from the nearest inhabited land, the Scottish island of St Kilda. The Endymion dropped off an exploring party in two small boats, and as the sailors recorded and sketched the island, they failed to notice for some time that a slight haze was gathering on the sea. Once they realised that their ship was becoming invisible in the mist, they hastily, and with some difficulty, got everyone down from the steep rock and into the small boats. But by then it was too late; their ship was out of sight in the fog. Despite some alarming experiences everyone was eventually rescued. On the same voyage they also rescued a party of survivors from a shipwreck, including several women and children, who were trying to reach land with only oars and an improvised sail; their prospects would have been poor if the Endymion had not come to their help. The chart illustrated here was made over 100 years later but makes clear both the inaccessibility of Rockall and the fact that the sea around it was still barely surveyed. It includes a drawing of Rockall as seen from the sea which emphasises its inaccessibility.Over the next few decades increasing numbers of people had the opportunity to travel. Thomas Cook organised the first package tour in July 1841, buying train tickets in bulk at a discount for 500 people travelling from Leicester to Loughborough for a temperance meeting and celebrations. A contemporary railway map in an unusual style, printed white on black, accompanies a guide to the line.

Cook went on to organise similar train trips locally, and within 10 years was taking tourists to the Scottish Highlands, and within twenty to France and Switzerland. By the 1870s Cook’s Tours had reached the Nile, and trips to North America soon followed. By this time there was plenty of competition as the idea of mass tourism took off. But Cook was the pioneer, and his company continued until the early twenty-first century.

The book also includes maps made by explorers showing their routes, such as the one made by a companion of the archaeologist David George Hogarth, travelling through Anatolia in 1894. It shows the places where they crossed the Euphrates in a terrifyingly leaky ferry and, later, forded one of its tributaries guided by a local man who took an apparently random route to avoid quicksand. Hogarth published an account of the expedition, his experiences and the archaeological finds.

You can read more in Adventures in maps, available from the Bodleian book shop.

Eastern hemisphere. From Philips’ centenary mercantile marine atlas London: George Philip, 1935. 2021 a.34.

Inset showing Rockall. From [Chart of the N.W. Coast of Scotland, including Faeroe Island & Orkney & Shetland Islands.] London: Imray, Laurie, Norie & Wilson, 1917. C18:3 (1)

Plan of the Midland counties railway. From A guide or companion to the Midland counties railway Leicester: Tebbutt, 1840. G.A. Gen. top. 8° 458

Detail from Mr Hogarth’s route from Khalfat to Malatia / F.W. Green, 1895. MS D30:8 (2)

Bodleian Map Room Blog

Items of interest from the wonderful world of maps