by Peter Barber (Deputy Map Librarian at the British Library)

FROM THE TIME when it was first mentioned as being in Hereford Cathedral in 1682, until a relatively short time ago, the Hereford Mappa Mundi was almost entirely the preserve of antiquaries, clergymen with an interest in the middle ages and some historians of cartography. [1] Much of their published work, particularly the detailed studies of the map and its more obvious sources by Bevan and Phillott published in 1873 and by Konrad Miller some twenty years later, together with the facsimiles that were produced from the 1860s, has proved to be of lasting value. Nevertheless, it placed a somewhat misleading emphasis on the map's geographical 'inaccuracies', its depiction of fabulous creatures and supposedly religious purpose, all clothed in what for the layman must have seemed an air of wildly esoteric learning and near-impenetrable medieval mystery. Casual visi¬tors to the dark aisle where it hung could see only a dark, dirty image which they were encouraged to view in a pious, but also rather condescending manner.


Detail from the Hereford map of England and Wales. Note Lincoln on its hill and Snowdon ('Snawdon'), Caernarvon and Conway in Wales, referring to the castles Edward I was building there when the map was being created. (By courtesy of the British Library). 


In the last thirty years this has gradually changed. In England, a detailed study of its less obvious features, such as the sequences of its place names and some of its coastal outlines by G. R. Crone of the Royal Geographical Society, revealed that despite the antiquity of many of the map's sources much was almost contemporary with the map's creation and was secular. Others delved into the question of its authorship, which had previously been assumed to be obvious from the wording on the map itself. Its images and decoration have been examined from a stylistic standpoint by Nigel Morgan and put into the context of their time, while the late Wilma George examined the animals in the light of her own zoological knowledge [2] The chance discoveries of fragments of other English medieval world maps in recent years [3] have expanded the context within which the Hereford World Map can be examined, and the Royal Academy exhibition, 'The Age of Chivalry' of 1987 enabled the map to be displayed in the company of other non-cartographic artifacts of its own time.


Details from the Hereford map of the Blemyae and the Psilli. Typical of the strange creatures or 'Wonders of the East' derived by Richard of Haldingham from classical sources and placed in Ethiopia. The Psilli reputedly tested the virtue of their wives by exposing their children to serpents. Recent research suggests this is a reference to African traders in medicinal drugs who visited ancient Rome. (By courtesy of the British Library).

Equally important work was also being done on medieval and Renaissance world maps as a genre, particularly by medievalists such as Anna-Dorothee von den Brincken and Jorg-Geerd Arentzen in Germany and by Juergen Schulz, primarily an art historian, and David Woodward, a leading historian of cartogra¬phy, in the United States. The cumulative effect has been to enable us at last to evaluate the map in terms of its actual (largely non-geographical and not exclusively religious) purpose, the age in which it was created and in the context of the general development of European cartography. Today, with the map in the headlines of thc popular prcss, it may be time to give a brief resume of what is currently known about it and to attempt to explain some of its more important features in the light of recent research. Much of the text that follows is an amplification of information panels and leaflets prepared for the British Library's current display of the map.

Medieval World Maps
The Hereford World Map is the only complete surviving English example of a type of map which was primarily a visualisation of all branches of knowledge in a Christian framework and only secondly a geographical object. It can best be understood in the context of the tradition to which it belonged.

After the fall of the Roman empire in the fifth century, monks and scholars struggled desperately to preserve from destruction by pagan barbarians the flotsam and jetsam of classical history and learning; to consolidate them and to reconcile them with Christian teaching and biblical history. The Old and New Testaments contained few doctrinal implications for geography, other than a bias in favour of an inhabited world consisting of rhree interlinked continents containing descendants of Noah's three sons. In the eyes of some (but by no means all) theologians, a fourth inhabited continent, the Antipodes, would implicitly have denied the descent of mankind from Noah, and the depiction of such a continent was deemed to be heretical by them. Most medieval mapmakers seem to have accepted this constraint, but world maps showing four continents are not uncommon: notably the world maps created by Beatus of Liebana in the late eighth century to illustrate his commentary on the Apocalypse of St. John. Generally, though, it was not difficult to adapt surviving copies of existing, secular world maps to suit the purposes of Christian writers from the fifth century onwards.

There would have been several models to choose from, corresponding to the widely differing cartographic traditions inside the Roman Empire, but it seems that the commonest image descended from a large map of the known world that was created for a portico lining the Via Flaminia near the Capitol in Rome during Christ's lifetime. This now-lost map was referred to in some detail by a number of classical writers and it seems to have been created under the direction of Emporer Augustus's son-in-law, Vipsanius Agrippa (63-12 BC) for official purposes. It was based on survey and on military itineraries and reflected the political and administrative realities of the time. It may have incorporated information from an earlier survey commissioned by Julius Caesar and, to judge from some early references, it may originally have shown four continents. The medievalised depiction on the bottom left corner of the Hereford world map of 'Caesar Augustus' commissioning a survey of the world from three surveyors representing the three corners of the world may be based on a muddled - and religiously acceptable - memory of these classical events.

Recent writers such as Arentzen have suggested that, simply because of their sheer availability, from an early date different versions of this map may have been used to illustrate texts by scholars such as St. Augustine of Hippo's student, Orosius (fl.410) and by Isidore of Seville (c. 560-636) , about the nature, peoples and wild life of the world. These texts owed much to classical writers, particularly Pliny the Elder (23-79), who himself derived much of his information from still earlier writers such as the fifth century BC Greek historian Herodotus.

Eventually some of the information from the texts became incorporated into the maps themselves, though only sparingly at first. As the centuries went by, more and more was included with references to places associated with events in classical history and legend (particularly fictionalised tales about Alexander the Great) and from biblical history with brief notes on and the very occasional illustration of natural history. Where space allowed, reference was also made to important contemporary towns, regions, and geographical features such as freshly-opened mountain passes. As befitted the encyclopaedic texts that they illustrated, the maps became visual encyclopaedias of human and divine knowledge and not mere geographical maps. Even though the inscriptions on the maps gradually became more and more garbled and the information more and more embellished, distorted, and misunderstood, they nevertheless retained their tenuous links with ancient learning.