Slide Sets

From the very beginning people have sketched maps of their view of the world. These maps, in the Western Tradition, may be divided into three groups, each one corresponding to a different period. In the first epoch, extending from the beginning down to the European voyages of discovery at the end of the fifteenth century, the drawing of a world map had to be done largely from conjecture. Personal experience and the relations of others might help a cartographer begin sketching a map, but soon it was necessary to fall back on a generalized model to extend the piece to the ends of the earth.

The voyages of discovery pushed out the boundaries of the known world and in the process created the second era in the history of world maps. From 1500 onward, up to about 1800, or 1900 in the case of remote regions, these maps changed in dramatic ways from decade to decade. Some cartographers used the first bits of information to suggest larger geographical entities, creating islands and bays, even entire continents, out of a few suggestive details. Others simply left their world maps incomplete when the map stretched beyond the reported data. These maps, even if fragmentary or grossly distorted, have a quaintness and a dynamic quality which makes them much sought after by today’s collectors.

The third stage in the making of world maps, the one of our time, starts with a standard map of the world, carefully constructed from measurements of various types, checked by field work in every part of the globe, and then double-checked by remote sensing. Here the cartographic interest centers on the use of various projections, the appropriateness of the design and the mechanics of production or distribution.

In the first period several competing theories about how the earth really looked existed side by side. The Age of Discovery settled the matter and, over the course of several centuries, produced a standard map based on a single world view. It took many interim maps, however, to get from the traditional cosmological images of the fifteenth century to the accurate modern image. Certainly one of the greatest achievements of the Age of Discovery was the standardization of a world view and the creation of one accepted world map.

The nature of maps, however, is such that they are never free of subjective elements, cultural conditioning, or individual bias. The truth of this statement is so obvious when one looks at the cartographic images of the world current in Europe on the eve of the discoveries. But looking carefully at these antique documents might also help us understand that similar limitations affect all maps, including the scientific charts of the modern age. Moreover, a look at the Pre-Columbian printed world maps introduces the fascinating topic of how, in the Age of Discovery, knowledge proceeded from the known to the unknown. What did people in the Western tradition think about when they first heard the news of a “New World”? What was the cultural context out of which the new authoritative world map was created?

It has been said that three great events took place in Western Europe in the fifteenth century: the introduction of Ptolemy’s geography; the development of printing, and the discovery of the New World. Although all three went hand in hand, the introduction of printing preceded the voyages of Columbus by several decades. Eighteen different world maps were printed in Europe before 1492. These represent five distinct types of maps and provide some basic materials for reconstructing the images of the world current in Europe in 1492.

Printed maps, by their wide-spread availability, probably serve as much more than adequate documents for constructing a society’s world view than manuscript maps. But in almost every case manuscript sources are essential for placing the first printed world maps in a proper context. It is one of the most fascinating discoveries of this little project that the setting for earliest printed maps reaches back several thousand years to the oldest surviving world map and beyond that to a tradition that extends back perhaps another two, three, or four millennia.

The oldest world map is a clay tablet dating from about 500 B.C. It is a rather crude sketch of the earth accompanying an elementary Babylonian discussion on the nature of the universe. The cuneiform text accompanying the map continues on the reverse and presumably onto several other tablets. The fragmentary text that survives refers to another illustration as well, portraying the heavens as well as the earth. Although small scale Mesopotamian maps on clay tablets are relatively rare, examples of such regional and local maps extends back as far as 3800 B.C. This world map from the Neo-Babylonian Empire, however, is unique. It antedates by almost a thousand years any other surviving world map. Moreover, it seems to be consistent with a tradition that reaches as far back in time as written records exist. It also shares many characteristics with the first map of the world to be printed in Europe, reaching forward several millennia to 1472 A.D.

One approach to discussing a map is to first consider the piece as a whole, commenting on its most striking characteristics and noting its major parts or divisions. Then one can proceed to the second stage, looking intensely at the various details. Thus we may start an analysis of the Babylonian world map by noting that it is basically a circle within a circle surrounded by triangular appendages.

The basic circular shape suggests a disc-shaped earth or the world as a globe. The idea of a circular land mass surrounded by water seems to appear in many early cultures. Here the inside circle is the inhabited land mass, the ecumene in the Greek world view, the Afro-Eurasian land mass in more modern terminology. There is a world ocean which circles the inhabited land and then a series of islands, represented by triangles, which define the transitional zone between the earth and the heavens.

The standard interpretation holds that the city of Babylon is represented as a rectangle in the center of the earth. The Euphrates River then appears as a broad band flowing from the mountains in the north to the Persian Gulf in the south. Much of its waters apparently flow into an extensive marsh along the southern reaches of the land. Various circles mark cities or counties, several of which are identified: Assyria, Armenia, Habbon, and Deri.

The islands of transition were beyond the reach of human beings. One was a place of light “brighter than that of sunset or stars.” Another, to the north, was shrouded in darkness. Here the sun could not be seen. A “horned bull” on the sixth island attacked all visitors. The world ocean which separates the inhabited lands from the islands is called the “Bitter River” on the tablet. The islands form a transitional zone leading to the Heavenly Ocean which is the abode of the animal constellations. These represent the gods of the old order who were banished from earth in the new creation.

Although there is some evidence of Mesopotamian voyages of discovery in the Mediterranean Sea and the Indian Ocean, the results of these efforts are not evident on this crude map. Indeed modern critics tend to dismiss it because of its “paucity of knowledge” and its “chauvinistic conceit.” But we must guard against letting modern knowledge or our own ideas of what a map should be blind us to the sophistication of world maps in another cultural context. Indeed some knowledge of the first world map seems essential to understand the early world maps printed in Europe.

The first world map to be issued from the printing press in Europe appeared in Augsburg, Germany, in 1472. It is a small woodcut set on a page of text in the Etymologiae of Isidore of Seville, a compendium of knowledge put together by the bishop in the seventh century. It became a popular medieval textbook and the section on geography was often illustrated by a simple map or diagram of the world. At least seven printed editions of Isidore’s encyclopedia appeared before 1500, and each was illustrated by a similar map.

These simple charts, called T-O maps, represent the continuation of a long series of medieval manuscript versions, over a thousand in number, that probably reach back to the days of Ceasar Augustus near the very beginning of our era. The emperor commissioned a world map which was placed on public display in Rome and which was often copied, in simplified form, for instructional purposes. Hence, it was natural for Isidore to turn to one of these copies to use in his compilation.

The sources of the Augustus map, in turn, were probably Hellenistic maps which followed a tradition that included the Babylonian map of 500 B.C. and probably reached back to the very earliest period of Mesopotamian cartography. No copies of the Augustus map have survived, but even without the intermediary, the basic continuity between the first printed map and the Babylonian prototype seems well established.

Both maps view the world as two concentric circles, one for the inhabited land mass and one for the encircling world ocean. One would guess that in Roman times the Mediterranean Sea had replaced the Euphrates as the major axis for the inhabited lands. By the time of Isidore, the land mass was divided into three traditional continents, Africa, Europe, and Asia. Each one was also identified with one of the sons of Noah according to the Genesis story. Shem (Sem), the oldest, received the larger birthright portion in Asia; Ham (Cham) and Jafeth received Africa and Europe respectively.

The continents were separated from each other, according to tradition, by certain bodies of water. These formed the “T” in the T-O maps. The Mediterranean Sea formed its stem, while the crossbar represented the Don River, the Black Sea, the Aegean Sea and the Nile River. Today we would probably use the Red Sea in place of the Nile, but convention apparently dictated a symmetry with a river on each side. The Red Sea may also have been considered part of the Mare Oceanum from which the waters within the ecumene are carefully separated on the map.

Note that Isidore’s map differs from the Babylonian map in its orientation. Here east rather than north is placed at the top of the map. In the late medieval T-O cartographic tradition, paradise would be located as an island just offshore at the top of the map. Jerusalem would occupy the honored location in the center of the “O” and at the top of the “T”. The Pillars of Hercules might be indicated at the bottom of the map between the Mediterranean Sea and the world ocean. Hell was traditionally located due north at the edge of the map, the region of eternal darkness.

Some modern commentators have declared that the T-O maps have no place in the story of the development of our world map. They represent, at best, a quaint tradition which was turned to theological ends by medieval scholastics. At worst they were relics of the dark ages which were soon discarded in the light of the discoveries. How could the discovery of a new world fit into such a cosmographical schema?

Other scholars have focused on the printing of maps which multiplied the number of copies available and introduced a new role for maps in the culture of Western societies. Thus this early printed map from Augsburg becomes a “timid herald” of modern cartography. But we might also point to a fundamental assumption behind the map itself. This is the idea that the earth as a whole is understandable, that it assumes a certain form, that the events of Biblical times and of one’s own lifetime occurred in the same world, and that the whole cosmographical scheme can be readily understood. These were all, no doubt, important ingredients in shaping the course of scientific development.

The second world map to printed in Europe was one of two large woodcut maps to be included in an early textbook, the Rudimentum Novitiorum (A Handbook for Beginners) published in Lubeck in 1475. The anonymous manual has often been called a world history textbook. Designed for beginning students, “and to dispense the poorer of them with the necessity for buying other books,” it included a variety of illustrations and two splendid maps, each covering a two-page spread. Both used a similar design, one for the world and one for the Holy Land.

The text was apparently written especially for the book and one might conclude that the maps also were specifically commissioned by the publisher. At any rate, they have no surviving antecedents. Although the Lubeck map of the world follows the general plan of the T-O maps, it focuses on a variety of individual countries, regions, and cities, each of which is represented as a separate hill. The overall design of the map is much more artistic than the schematic outlines of most T-O maps.

The Lubeck maps of 1475 are often celebrated for their aesthetic qualities. The Rudimentum as a whole also became a success in France where at least seven elaborate folio editions appeared before 1555. Thus the textbook was soon elevated to something like our modern coffee-table books, filled with woodcuts and issued under the title Mer des Hystoires. The two maps continued to be important parts of these French versions. New woodcuts of the maps were made in France, one in Paris and one at Lyons, both substituting French names for the original Latin, but otherwise following the original very closely.

Like the T-O maps, the world map in the Rudimentum emphasizes the inhabited lands and pictures them as a circle surrounded by an ocean sea. Inland waters divide the ecumene into the three usual continents, each of which is labeled on the Lubeck map: Asia at the top, with the lettering outside of the circle while Europe and Africa have their names given just below the diameter where Asia ends. Paradise is located in the far east, with the four rivers issuing forth from the Garden of Eden and flowing through the lands of the earth. The Holy Land is in the center of the map with the Pillars of Hercules at the bottom.

The map seems to focus on the large continental divisions rather than on the exact geographical relationship between places. Thus the cartographer wanted the readers to know that Alexandria was in Africa, Persia was in Asia, and Venice belonged to Europe, rather than to give the precise location of each place. The placement of countries within their respective division of the world often seems to be based on other factors than distance and direction. Thus Rome is placed near the center of Europe, and Carthage occupies the similar position of honor in Africa.

The inclusion of places from Biblical history, classical times, and mythology emphasize that the function of the map was not to provide a picture of the world as it was in 1475. Rather the map presented an interesting view of the world with some essential things that a beginning student should know about it. The time did not matter. Thus places from different eras, real and mythological, were placed side by side. The map, like most of the other illustrations in the book, was a teaching aide, presenting basic information in graphic form.

Each of the details, the place names and the illustrations as well, was meant to tell a particular tale or to serve as a reminder of some aspect of a particular place. Unfortunately no explanation accompanies the map, and we are often forced to guess at the meaning of individual details. Thus the two men talking with one another in the Garden of Eden have been explained as either a teacher and his student (school is paradise?) or a Jew and a Christian seeking together the road of wisdom.

Noting a few other details will give some insight into the nature of the map: the Mons Auri, in Asia at the two o’clock position, is the legendary mountain of gold, so colored on the British Museum copy. The city of Alexandria in the south is pictured as an oasis with notable buildings and lush vegetation. Amazonica, the land of the female warriors, is at the far north in Asia at the nine o’clock point. Mons Calesti at the edge of Africa about five o’clock may refer to a volcano.

Europe seems to be a continent filled with princes and their scepters. Islands of the Mediterranean Sea, Crete, Rhodes, and Cyprus, are grouped near Greece and Apulia. If one follows a long arm of the sea inland between Greece and Rome, the city of Venice appears. While in places the map makes some geographical sense to modern readers, in others, they are left in bewilderment. Anglia, for example, is not at the edge of Europe but curiously enclosed within the continent by Dacia and Galica near the Pillars of Hercules.

The function of the map undoubtedly echoed the purpose of the book itself, as stated in its colophon: “The art of printing [has been] newly invented by the special grace of God to the redemption of the faithful.”

The most important maps published in the early period of European printing were undoubtedly the world maps accompanying various editions of the Geographia of Claudius Ptolemy, a Hellenistic scholar who wrote in the second century A.D. One modern writer, Lloyd A. Brown, ranks the printing of this celebrated work with the achievements of Gutenberg and Columbus as the three great events of the fifteenth century. A.E. Nordenskiold made a similar observation fifty years earlier when he noted that the introduction of Ptolemy’s ideas hit the western European mind with even more force than the discoveries of the New World, for Ptolemy “extricated from the darkness” the very world in which the people were living.

What was so revolutionary about Ptolemy’s book? In simple terms, he advocated that maps be drawn inductively by recording many specific locations on a grid. This approach may be contrasted with the deductive method used in the other world maps of the fifteenth century. In the deductive mode, the cartographer started with a general picture of the world and fitted the places of personal experience into the established cosmography. Since Ptolemy’s method worked the other way, from experience to grid to map, a world map could include only those regions visited by people. The rest of the earth was beyond the scope of cartography.

Of the world maps of the fifteenth century, Ptolemy’s piece was the only one to use a grid. The simple conic projection on which this 1478 map is based is not really one of the projections Ptolemy advocated in his treatise. That simple fact opens up the problem of the relationship between Ptolemy (87-150 A.D.), the maps and even the book which bears his name. The earliest surviving manuscript of the Geographia dates from over a thousand years after his death. The maps are even later. One modern scholar, Leo Bagrow, concluded that the book was largely a Byzantine compilation assembled after 1000 A.D. The maps, like the text, may have been based on an ancient source, but were probably modern composite works put together by three or four hands.

Nevertheless, the maps and the text, as they were received in the Latin-speaking world during the Renaissance, set the pattern for modern cartography. Henceforth the standard world maps would be scientific in character, based on a grid or mathematical projection, usually with north at the top and east to the right. The distance between the equator and each pole, following ancient tradition, would be 90 degrees of latitude with the equator being zero. The representation of rivers, seas, mountains, and boundaries on these Renaissance maps formed the basis for modern cartographic design. Ptolemy’s world map is thus the mother map of modern cartography. In the fifteenth century it also served as a reference map for a series of about 26 regional maps which elaborated the various parts of the known world. 

A glance at the map as a whole will show that the cartographer did not always follow the Ptolemaic precepts. On an inductive map the regions for which data were not available would be left blank, but Ptolemaic maps “complete” the map by sketching in boundaries for Terra Incognita. Thus the Indian Ocean becomes a land-locked sea and the ecumene is separated from the surrounding ocean by a continuous coastline much in the same way that the Babylonian cartographers did several millennia earlier.

The focal point of the map seems to be on the region between the Caspian Sea and the Persian Gulf. The Indian Ocean thus becomes the major body of water in the known world. The greatest amount of detail, however, appears in the Mediterranean region. Curiously, this sea is not named on this Rome edition of 1478, the second printing of the Geographia. (It did appear on the cruder Bologna print of 1477).

Cities, even Alexandria, Rome, Athens, and Jerusalem, are not indicated on Ptolemy’s world map, probably because it was a general reference guide to the individual regional maps which followed. It served much like an index for the whole collection of maps. Ptolemy’s Geographia was thus the first printed atlas.

The left-hand margin of the map divides the northern hemisphere into seven climatic zones according to classical geographical theory. Ptolemy’s treatise urges that this approach should be abandoned in favor of using degrees of latitude. It is interesting to note that the word “climate” originally referred to the angle of the noon sun and the length of the day. Only later did it extend to the general weather pattern of a place.

The continent of Africa is dominated by two great rivers, a westward-flowing composite of the Niger and the Senegal and the northern-flowing Nile, which is depicted in remarkably accurate fashion. The source of the Nile is south of the equator in mountains at the edge of the ecumene, and its major branches seem to flow through great lakes.

The Pillars of Hercules are labeled at the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea. The Sea itself is elongated on the map, reflecting one of the standard Ptolemaic errors. Another mistake was the extension of the land mass much too far eastward, a miscue utilized by Columbus in projecting an optimistic westward crossing of the ocean sea. Ptolemy used the westernmost known land, in the Fortunate (Canary) Islands, as the location for his prime meridian, a practice that was followed up to the eighteenth century.

Note how Europe is cut up by a variety of bays and rivers. Asia, in contrast, seems to be landlocked and divided into regions by chains of mountains. The Caspian Sea is correctly shown as an inland body of water, but the Indian subcontinent has been “flattened.” The large island of Taprobana undoubtedly is Sri Lanka although the name was also used at times for Sumatra.

When Ptolemy wrote his treatise on map-making at the height of the Roman Empire, he expected the map of the world to change as new locations were recorded. “Attention must be paid to the latest research,” he wrote in Book I, “because the earth, in the course of time, undergoes change.” To Columbus, who owned, studied, and annotated this edition of Ptolemy, the word of the classical sage became a challenge and an inspiration.

Unlike the world maps contained in Ptolemy’s Geographia, the Rudimentum or Isidore’s Encyclopedia, all of which were addressed to students or scholars, the map of the world produced by Hanns Rüst was meant for popular consumption. Its broadside format suggests that it was sold for a small sum or given away as a promotional piece at fairs. Such items were often used as decorations in homes, usually as part of homemade calendars. Thus the map is a very useful document for suggesting the image of the world held by the people of Western Europe on the eve of the discoveries.

Because it was addressed to a wide audience, the map uses the German rather than the Latin language. It is the first map to be printed in the vernacular. The long title in the banner at the top announces “This is the map of the world and all countries and kingdoms as they are located in the world.” Hanns Rüst is identified as the maker of the map in the banner at the bottom of the design. The smaller circular illustrations suggest different ways to look at the world. The design on the left shows the four elements: air, fire, earth, and water. The scene on the right divides the world into city, countryside, and the sea.

Hanns Rüst worked in Augsburg between 1477 and 1484, the year of his death. Rodney Shirley, the leading authority on the early printed map, suggests 1480 as an approximate date. The only copy of the Rüst map to survive was found pasted inside a copy of Strabo’s Geography printed in 1472 and now in the Pierpont Morgan Library in New York. Two other very similar maps have also survived, using the same title. These, however, indicate that they were produced by Hanns Sporer. It has been demonstrated that they were made from a separate woodblock. Since the Sporer versions add some details, it is assumed that they were published later, althought both versions may have followed a common manuscript source. At any rate three examples of this vernacular map have survived, all dating from about 1480.

The image of the world portrayed on these prints has been hailed as a fine example of late medieval culture. The concept, content, design, and lettering are all typical of southern Germany about 1480. The overall conception of the map follows the T-O format with a circle of land surrounded by an ocean sea. Paradise is at the top, the Pillars of Hercules are at the bottom, and Jerusalem is at the center.

The dominant features on the map are the four rivers flowing out of the Garden of Eden and watering all the countries of the world. The description of Eden in Genesis also emphasizes the four rivers, each of which is a branch of the river which flowed through the garden. “The name of the first is Phishon,” which circled the land “where the gold is.” Rüst seems to use this river as the main stem of the map, dividing it into two hemispheres, flowing through the city of Babylon, and circling around Jerusalem. Gihon, the second river, has been traditionally identified as the Nile. Rüst puts it on the right flowing past Alexandria and Egypt into Africa. The Tigris and the Euphrates, the other two branches of the Edenic system, are identified on the map.

The water that begins below Jerusalem represents the Mediterranean Sea. The island of Cyprus is appropriately the first of several islands, but then the map’s geography becomes very confusing to the modern reader. Two peninsulas point toward Cyprus, one representing Italy and on Greece, but their order and situation are reversed. Thus Italy is closer to Jerusalem. Note that Rome and Venice are both indicated, separated by a mountain range that forms the spine of Italy. Greece, with the city of Athens merges into Flanders, signaling that the waters at the stem of the “T” include the North Sea as well.

Any attempt to identify the rivers of Europe ends in confusion. They seems to join in one large system, facilitating communication between the countries, both real and legendary. France, England, Spain, and Upper Germany all appear as islands.

The rivers in Asia divide the land into long strips. The one to the far right, the land of the Nile, is the location of Egypt and Alexandria as well as some mythical places. The Asian territory on the far left, beyond the Euphrates, contains mostly mythical features, beginning with the land of Gog and Magog. The Asian stream running against the pattern and crossing the River Phishon just above Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives is the Jordan River. It rises to the left in the mountains of Lebanon and flows past the scene of the crucifixion into the Dead Sea.

The traditional location of Africa on T-O maps, in the lower right-hand quarter, is devoid of any rivers. Here the cities like Carthage and Hippo are grouped like islands in an indentation of the Mediterranean Sea. The Red Sea, a part of the ocean, is a gateway to mythical places. Beyond Africa, to the south, the land becomes uninhabitable because of the heat. This is the message of the banner at the lower right as well as the string of empty islands nearby. The companion banner on the left-hand side of the earth notes that the sea in the north is always frozen, again producing uninhabited lands and islands.

The ocean sea which surrounds the circle of lands is filled with islands recalling mythical stories and legends. The ship to the left of Paradise apparently refers to the voyage of St. Brendan, although it seems to be in the wrong part of the sea. The purpose of the map, however, was not primarily to locate places accurately but to summarize the folk culture of the day.

A whole book would be needed to explain all the known references on the print. Even a casual observer, however, can easily grasp the underlying message that the earth is watered by the rivers that issue forth from Paradise. These water bind together the entire ecumene. Sometimes the waters disappear beneath the surface of the earth into subterranean chambers, but the waters from wells and springs come forth once again to sustain life. The earth is one, and its waters come from a single providential source. Thus this 1480 broadside suggests a theme much the same as the one emphasized by modern ecologists. The map provides not only a window to a past cosmology, but also a cartographic design with an enduring appeal and a timely message.

The essential point of the map of Macrobius was that the earth was the home of two, or four, separate worlds. The Afro-Eurasian continent was balanced by an Antipodean land mass on the other side of an impassable torrid zone. If the earth was a sphere, the logic of symmetry called for two more land masses in the other hemisphere.

Ambrosius Macrobius, a Neoplatonic philosopher who wrote near the end of the Roman Empire, became a very popular medieval source. About 150 late medieval manuscripts of his Commentary on the Dream of Scipio have survived, most of them accompanied by this interesting world map. It was natural that the work of Macrobius would be among the very early printed books. The initial edition of 1472 did not contain a map, but the Brescia issue of 1483 was accompanied by this simple woodcut. Four variant maps of this type appeared in other printings before 1500.

The map provides a splendid example of deductive map making, where the cartographer started with a notion of what the world looked like and then forced actual experience into the preconceived model. Distinguished cartographers like Mercator and Ortelius would later connect the model of Macrobius and the discovery of Tierra del Fuego to create an immense Austral continent to “balance” the known lands of the world. Indeed, the division of the world into climactic zones similar to the Macrobian model is still widely taught in today’s schools, without, of course, the impenetrable band of fire at the equator.

The didactic use of the model was stated in classical terms by Cicero who related the story of Scipio’s dream in the Republic. Macrobius, who preserved the story, used it as a basic text to discuss a whole series of scientific and philosophical topics. The moral of the story is that fame in this world can never be perfect, and it is always fleeting. Virtue must, therefore, be practiced for its own sake and not as a way to pursue fame. The map proves the point. The Austral continent was a part of the earth whose inhabitants could never be contacted by Scipio, Cicero, or Macrobius. These other world would never even hear about Rome or the good deeds of it most virtuous citizens.

Moreover, the presence of the boiling cauldron in the equatorial zone created a very unstable geography. Thus, in Cicero’s words, it would not “be possible for us to achieve fame for a long time,” not to mention permanent fame, owing to the floods and conflagrations that inevitably overwhelm the earth at definite intervals.

In the Neoplatonic system of Macrobius, the material world was ephemeral, and the physical body was like a tomb imprisoning the soul. The earth itself, a mere speck in the universe, was only a way station on the road to heavenly immortality. The map was thus more a statement of the divine order than an accurate picture of physical reality. It was the exact opposite of the Ptolemaic map, which, in humanistic style, was rooted in human experience. Macrobius would also have rejected the T-O tradition of locating paradise so close to earth.

The map of Macrobius generated so many metaphysical overtones that modern readers have difficulty coming to terms with it. Many would brush it aside as crude and naïve, pointing to the “printer’s error” which reversed the image of the known world on some early editions, placing Europe in the east and Asia on the left. Such details, relating to physical shape and form, it may be held, were unimportant in the overall scheme of things. The solid earth, like all things physical, was transient and insignificant in the presence of eternal realities.

The overall structure of the map is quite simple. The earth is divided into five zones, each of which is labeled on the map. Frigid and temperate zones are located above and below the hot equatorial region. This torrid zone may by subdivided into three parts. At the center is the Alveus Ocean, a deep cavity of trough left behind when the water vaporized into intense heat. Hellenistic science held that eternal fire needed immense qualities of water for nourishment. On either side of the depression are the regions labeled “Perusta,” where things became inflamed.

The inscription around the edge of the map note that the ocean currents flow from the torrid zone toward the frigid zones. Near the poles these currents clash, causing the tides an sculpting huge bays in the adjoining continents.

Since nothing could be known about the Antipodean Continent, except for its general size, shape, and location, it was simply sketched in a general way. The ecumene, however, is shown with some interesting details. The Mediterranean Sea divides the lands, and each continent is labeled. The islands of Sardinia and Sicily are identified within the sea; the countries of Spain, France (Gaul) and Italy are labeled. The Alps are also indicated, and the city pictured at the foot of these mountains is probably Brescia, the place of publication.

Perhaps the artist did not fully subscribe to the Macrobian view of the fleeting nature of fame for he seemed to give his community a special place on the map. We do not know his name, but we respect his civic pride.

Maps, like the children of long ago, will speak only when spoken to, and to do that, one must learn their language. Perhaps a close look at these six maps extending over twenty centuries will help develop cartographic literacy, a sense of what makes a map a map, of what is objective in maps, and of what is subjective. The study of maps as primary sources also offers some understanding of the historic process itself. The focal point is 1492. The connection between our world view and voyages of discovery is obvious once one knows how our standard world map came into being. Making that connection explicit as 1992 approaches might help Americans imitate one of the intellectual strengths of the Great Discoverer: his sense of what maps might be to one who understands them. At the very least, these old maps might help us come to terms with ourselves and our environment. David Greenwood said it best: “As maps become less strange to us, they grow more wonderful. So we take them into our homes to make ourselves more at home in the universe” (Mapping, 1964, p. xiii).

1. Babylonian World Map c. 500 B.C. Reproduced from Imago Mundi, II (1937) opp. p. 1.
2. World map from Isidore of Seville, (Augsburg, 1472), reproduced from Shirley, The Mapping of the World, p. 1.
3. World map from the anonymous Rudimentum Novitiorum (Lubeck, 1475), Reproduced from Shirley, The Mapping of the World, p. xxi.
4. World map from Ptolmey, Geographia, (Rome, 1478).
5. World map by Hanns Rüst (Augsburg, late 15th century), redrawn by J.D.S. Knight in simplified form.
6. World map in Ambrosius Macrobius, In Somnium Scipionis…(Brescia, 1483).