Map Collection
Freshwater People: An Exhibit on Lake Tourism by Georgia Brown
By Lauren Maddox
This week, the AGSL is unveiling a new featured exhibit designed by Graduate Student Intern Georgia Brown. This exhibit, which is focused on freshwater tourism and recreation, features a selection of pieces from our collections including postcards, maps, and rare, vintage travel books.
Brown has been a Graduate Student Intern with the AGSL since May 2018 (you might remember her from last month’s feature!) The exhibit is part of a final project for Brown’s Independent Study with the AGSL’s curator Marcy Bidney, which focused on cartographic resources in libraries.
Here are few photos from the Freshwater People: An Exhibit on Freshwater Tourism:
This exhibit is available and open to the public now! We encourage you to come see it in person– and enjoy the rest of the AGSL’s collections while you’re here! The AGSL is open Monday-Friday, 8:00-4:30. Please come and see us!
Imperial Russian Nautical Charts of the Black Sea Atlas at the AGSL Part I
By Josephine Miller
The Crimean War: Loss of the Black Sea Fleet and Reform

Tsar Alexander II (1818-1881) ascended to the throne on February 19 1855. He succeeded his father Tsar Nicholas I, who died at the age of 58 while Russia was losing the Crimean War (1853-1856). The war was fought between the Russian Empire and the alliance of the Ottoman Empire, Great Britain, France, and Sardinia. Alexander II came to the throne at the age of 36 at the end of the war. In the beginning of his reign, the young tsar was forced to face to the defeat of the Russian Empire. The Treaty of Paris was signed on March 30 1856, officially ending the Crimean War.
In the treaty, Russia ceded the mouth of the Danube and some of Bessarabia to the Ottomans. Additionally, Russia accepted the neutralization of the Black Sea. Neutralization meant not maintaining a navy or coastal fortifications in the Black Sea. In addition, Russia withdrew from the Danube Principalities of Moldavia and Wallachia and accepted an international commission to oversee navigation of the Danube. Russia also forfeited its claim as protectorate of Orthodox Christians in the Holy Land and in the Ottoman Empire. The Crimean War was a great defeat for the Russian Empire, so much so that one rumor circulated that Nicholas I had poisoned himself. The war signified the decline of Russia’s influence in Southeastern Europe and the Near East. [1] As Russia was losing the war and Nicholas I approached death, he requested his funeral to be modest and the period of mourning to be as brief as possible. [2]
The defeat of Crimea was pivotal moment for Russian history. Notably, the Black Sea has historically been of great political importance for Russia, given its warm water ports. The defeat made a deep impression on the young Tsar Alexander II. He began his reign having to deal with the consequences of his father’s reign. Nicholas I had been a conservative autocrat who believed it was his sacred duty to uphold tradition. Under Nicolas I, Russia remained frozen in time. His rule is regarded as a conservative reaction to the Enlightenment. This reaction or rejection is best explained by his doctrine on Official Nationality (Теория официальной народности), which was based on the Triad “orthodoxy, autocracy, and nationalism” (Православие, самодержавие, народность).
The conservative disposition of Nicholas I is seen as the primary reason for the defeat in Crimea by the reformers. Before the war, Russia and its military enjoyed the positive reputation it had earned in its victory over Napoleon. However, while Nicholas I focused on upholding the tradition of the Triad, the West advanced scientifically and militarily. Consequently, when the war broke out, Russia faced the more advanced and modern armies of the West. The war revealed how lacking and inefficient the Russian military was in comparison to the West. The inefficient bureaucracy of the military, the lack of modern technology, and corruption were all examples of the inadequacies of the military. The outdated Russian military was frozen in the Napoleonic era, while the Allies had advanced into the Victorian era.
The industrialization in the West created a technological gap between Russia and the West, in particular, Russia and Great Britain. Great Britain was Russia’s primary imperial rival at the time. Technologically, the world had changed quickly in the middle of the 19th century. The period saw new technological innovations such as railroads, telegraphs, improved steam engines, and improvements in steel and iron. Significantly, Great Britain had the capability to import food and raw materials from around the world, allowing the mass production of consumer goods. Furthermore, the expanding of education in Western society accommodated this industrialization; Russia, on the other hand, lagged behind in all of these areas.

Lagging behind proved to be Russia’s disadvantage in the war. The fighting in the Crimean War revealed these disadvantages in the Russian military. Russia’s fleet of sailing ships could not fight against the steamships of Britain and France. Moreover, the Russian military relied on serfs for soldiers. Serfs could not provide the needed gunpowder and shells for battle. Ultimately, Russian soldiers marched into battle with smoothbore muskets, only to face the long-range artillery fire of the allies. [3]
In the aftermath of Crimea, reform found supporters from both the Slavophiles and the pro-Western factions. Both had been greatly upset by the defeat. The Slavophiles saw war against the Ottomans as a crusade for Orthodox Christianity and for Constantinople. Whereas, the Westernizers were dismayed by Russia losing its preeminent status as a European power that it had earned after the Napoleonic wars.

Alexander II began his reign as a proponent of reform, both militarily and politically. His most famous reform was the abolishment of serfdom, earning him the title the Tsar-Liberator or Alexander the Liberator. Alexander II was not the first tsar that wanted to end serfdom, but the Crimean War provided the opportunity. The serf army proved to be ineffective. If Russia were to modernize it would need to industrialize, which would also include a citizen army. The institution of serfdom inhibited both modernization and industrialization. Serfdom kept the Russian economy agrarian and stifled the innovation needed for industrialism. In the following decade, Alexander II enacted political and military reforms in order to modernize Russia and its military.

Revival of the Black Sea Fleet
Nonetheless, the treaty of Paris limited naval ambition due to the demilitarization stipulation in the treaty. Opportunity would arise in 1870s for the Black Sea Fleet. On September 1, 1870, Emperor Napoleon III surrendered to Prussia. During the Franco-Prussian War, Russian remained officially neutral. However, according to the memoirs of Count Dmitry Milyutin, Field Marshall and Minister of War Alexander II sent St. George Crosses to Prussian officers and a congratulatory telegram to King Wilhelm I after Prussian victory. Notably, Wilhelm I was the maternal uncle of Alexander II. Additionally, Russian officers served in the Prussian army. [4]
The Franco-Prussian War led to the establishment of the German Empire. Upon unification, King Wilhelm I of Prussia became German Emperor. Otto von Bismarck, Chancellor of the new German Empire, wanted to gain favor with Russia due to the mutual threat of Polish nationalism. Bismarck sent Count Constantin von Alvensleben to Russia in order to come to an agreement on cooperation against Polish rebellion. [5]

Black Sea Fleet in the Bay of Theodosia, just before the Crimean War, 1890, Ivan Aivazovsky,
Feodosiya National Gallery I. K. Aivazovsky
German rapprochement aided Russia in a more important foreign policy objective for Russia: the Black Sea. In 1870, Prince Alexander Gorchakov, Foreign Minister, used France’s defeat to denounce the Black Sea clause of the Treaty of Paris (1856). Gorchakov’s denouncement included the refusal to uphold the clause. In his justification, Gorchakov cited to Turkey violations of the treaty and he argued that the conditions of warfare have become more dangerous since 1856 due to the more destructive armaments. Bismarck supported Gorchakov on the Black Sea clause. Though Britain protested, the European powers agreed to it through the Treaty of London in 1871, which abrogated the Black Sea clause of the Treaty of Paris. This allowed Russia to rebuild the Black Sea Fleet and military fortifications on the Black Sea. [6]
Egor Pavlovich Manganari (Егор Павлович Манганари)
The Atlas of the Black Sea (Атлас Чёрного Моря) was published between 1841 and1842. The surveying for the atlas was led by Captain-Lieutenant Egor Manganari (1796-1868). He was the eldest son of Panayot Manganari, (also known as Pavel Manganari in Russian). Panayot Manganari was a Greek nobleman and immigrant to the Russian Empire from the Greek island Chios. He immigrated to Russia due to conflict with the Ottomans, taking advantage of the Catherine the Great’s invitation to settle Greeks in the Southern Russian Empire. He married Alexandra Timofeevna and they had six children: three daughters, Maria, Ekaterina, and Anastasia, and three sons who served as officers in the Black Sea Fleet, Egor, Ivan, and Mikhail. The family first lived in Yevpatoriya and later in Nikolayev. [7]
Egor Manganari served in the Black Sea Fleet of the Imperial Russian Navy as a naval officer and hydrographer. He attended the Black Sea Navigational School in Nikolayev. There he studied Russian, English, classical subjects, and subjects related to geography such as mathematics, geodesy, navigation, and cartography.[8]
In 1813, he entered the Black Sea Fleet as a Navigation Assistant. By 1816, he received the rank of First Officer Midshipman and was later promoted to Lieutenant in 1821. He was appointed commander of the rig Nikolai (Николай) where he produced an inventory the Dnieper Estuary and the Bug River. His work was highly praised, earning him the Order of Saint Anna, 3rd Class, and the commission to survey the Azov and Black Sea. He commanded the Nikolai until 1827, when he received the command of the yacht Golubka (Голубка). The expedition of the Black Sea was launched in 1826 and continued for ten years. Manganari still participated in the Russo-Turkish War (1828–29), for which he was awarded the Order of Saint Vladimir, 4th Class. In 1833-1834, during the Caucasian War, he also did hydrographic surveys of the Caucasus, for which he was awarded the Order of Saint Stanislav, 2nd class. [9]
By 1838, he had been promoted to lieutenant-colonel and completed his survey of the Black Sea and Azov Sea. His nautical charts were supported by the Admiral Mikhail Lazarev, Commander of the Black Sea Fleet. After the Black Sea expedition concluded, he was granted permission by the Navy to publish them. The nautical charts were brought to Saint Petersburg to be engraved and published as an atlas. After the publication of the atlas, Manganari was awarded the Order of Saint George, 4th class. Manganari continued to do hydrographic surveying of the Black Sea after the publication of the atlas. In 1849, he received the rank of major-general and was appointed as the director of the Lighthouses of the Black Sea and Azov Sea. Manganari remained at that post until he retired in 1856. [10] [11]
[1] Nicholas V. Riasanovsky and Mark D. Steinberg, A History of Russia, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 333-336.
[2] Kaputina, Tatiana Aleksandrovna. “Nicholas I.” In The Emperors and Empresses of Russia: Rediscovering the Romanovs, (Armonk, New York: M. E. Sharpe), 292.
[3] Russia in the Nineteenth Century: Autocracy, Reforms, and Social Change, 1814-1914, (Armonk, New York: M.E. Sharpe) 85.
[4] Ibid. 161.
[5] Nicholas V. Riasanovsky and Mark D. Steinberg, A History of Russia, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 380.
[6] Russia in the Nineteenth Century Autocracy, Reforms, and Social Change, 1814-1914, (Armonk, New York: M.E. Sharpe) 161.
[7] Выдающиеся морские гидрографы братья Манганари. Часть I. Николаевский Базар. [Outstanding Marine Hydrograph Brothers. Part I, Nikolayev Bazar].
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Üçsu, Kaan. “Cartographies of the ‘Eastern Question’: Some Considerations on Mapping the Sea of Marmara and the Black Sea in the Nineteenth Century.” In Philosophy of Globalization, (Berlin/Boston: De Gruyter, 2018) 259-260.
Franklinia: The Fourteenth State in the Union
By Lauren Maddox
After the American Revolution, North Carolina was in debt. To be fair, the entire country was in debt; it was just that Congress, who was also dealing with their own debts, began to collect. North Carolina didn’t have any capital to pay off their debts to Congress– instead, they voted in April 1784 to give Congress a parcel of land, around 29 thousand acres, between Appalachia and the Mississippi River.

Click the link to see the States of America, 1832. Rare map recording the existence of a territory called “Franklinia” in our Digital Collections
This parcel of land– which is now East Tennessee– was left unprotected while North Carolina waited for Congress to take possession. The territory was ceded on one condition: Congress had to assume ownership of the area within two years. Without protection, the people living there were vulnerable; they weren’t well-situated for easy trade and had displaced, sometimes violently, the indigenous peoples who lived there originally.
Congress was unable to take ownership before North Carolina decided to rescind their offer just four months after their initial vote, so North Carolina made plans to reincorporate the territory– except that the people who lived there didn’t want to be reincorporated. As it turned out, despite being more exposed, being independent from North Carolina was a better deal. They weren’t as heavily taxed, and they weren’t satisfied with the protection North Carolina was providing anyway, so there didn’t seem to be any good reason to go back to being part of North Carolina.
And two men were already seeking to create a new Western state; John Sevier and Arthur Campbell had been discussing the possibility of establishing their proposed state with territory from Virginia, North Carolina, Alabama, and the region that would become Georgia, Kentucky, and Tennessee for years. Campbell’s call for a new state was well-received by other frontiersmen, but Virginia Governor Patrick Henry shot down his initial attempt by passing a law to prevent the use of Virginia territory in the creation of new states. They had made some headway in Kentucky, but the unclaimed territory ceded by North Carolina was a golden opportunity to establish the independent state they had been endeavoring to create for so long.
On August 23, 1784, delegates from the unincorporated counties met in Jonesborough to discuss whether or not they would rejoin North Carolina. They voted to become independent. Leaders were quickly elected; John Sevier became governor and a constitutional convention was called in December. The original draft of their constitution forbade doctors, lawyers, and preachers from becoming elected officials, but this was unpopular and this draft was dropped in favor of just using North Carolina’s state constitution.
The following May, just a year after the territory was originally ceded by North Carolina, a delegation petitioned Congress to become the fourteenth state in the union as Frankland. The delegation decided to use the name Franklin as an homage to Benjamin Franklin in the hopes that he might express some support for the new state. Unfortunately, Franklin wrote back that he didn’t know enough about their endeavor to support them, but wished the State of Franklin luck anyway. The final vote to establish Frankland as a state failed with less than the required two-thirds majority.
By December 1785, Franklinia (which had undergone several name changes by this point) was operating as an independent republic. Its issues with North Carolina were never resolved, and so they refused to rejoin their original state. The economy was in shambles; there was no official currency and bartering became the standard exchange. John Sevier himself was paid in deer skins. Citizens were granted a reprieve from taxes while the economy stabilized. A new capital was chosen because Jonesborough was so close to the North Carolina seat of government, and a new constitution drafted.

Click the link to see the Map of Tennessee “Formerly Part of North Carolina” 1796 in our Digital Collections
In 1786, North Carolina made Franklinia a new offer: if they rejoined North Carolina, they wouldn’t have to pay any back-taxes. Franklinian delegates refused this offer, which was the beginning of the end. Several key supporters of the movement withdrew and North Carolina began to militarily reunite Franklinia with its state government. Using armed force, North Carolina re-established government facilities alongside the Franklinian courts and jails. Franklinia’s decline took place over several years. In 1787, Franklin began forcibly seizing Native American territory, angering their neighbors. In 1788, three men were killed in a skirmish over John Sevier’s property; the conflict lasted ten minutes before Sevier’s handful of troops were forced to withdraw. Trying to protect Franklinia from the Chickamauga and Chickasaw tribes he had angered in his landgrab, Sevier began negotiating with Spain. North Carolina, resistant to Spanish interference, arrested Sevier. In 1789, the last few loyal Franklinians swore allegiance to North Carolina again. The government of Franklinia was officially and completely dissolved in 1791. Maps of Franklinia are rare because of how short-lived the de facto republic actually was; the AGSL has a single map featuring the state– it is not noted on other maps of the area from this time.

Click the link to see the Map of the Southern States of America in 1795, including territory labelled “Tennessee Government” in our Digital Collections
But after everything it took to reunite the State of Franklin and North Carolina, North Carolina ceded the territory again in 1790 to form the Southwest Territory. This territory would become Tennessee– and John Sevier was its first governor.

Click the link to see the 1832 Map of Kentucky and Tennessee in our Digital Collections
“A New World of Pleasure”: The 105th Anniversary of the Panama Canal
By Lauren Maddox
On August 15, 1914 the United States officially opened the Panama Canal. It took thirty-three years for the construction to come to fruition; France began building the Canal in 1881, but were unable to carry the project forward. Workers were dying and the engineers hit roadblock after roadblock. The United States took over the project in 1904.

Click the link to see “Railroad Tracks at the Panama Canal Zone” 
Click the link to see “People Working on the Panama Canal.” 
Click the link to see “Work on the Panama Canal 1883.”

Click the link to see 1851 Map of the Road from Chagres to Panama with Proposed Canal Route in our Digital Collections

Click the link to see the 1866 French Map of the Isthmus in our Digital Collections
European colonists have had ideas about the Panama Canal since 1513; Vasco Nunez de Balboa crossed the Isthmus of Panama and wondered about a water-passage shortcut for ships crossing the Atlantic and Pacific. But imagination ran past ability, and the technology needed for such an undertaking would not be developed until the 19th century. France began the initial efforts. The project was led by canal engineer Ferdinand de Lesseps. But amid the disease and trouble financing the project, they were only able to complete half of the canal. As soon as the project was abandoned, the US expressed interest in the picking it up again, but US involvement with the Panama Canal was unpopular at home. French failure to complete the project was disheartening and the Colombian government was unenthused about the idea of an American canal to say the least.
For the US to be granted the rights to continue work on the canal, some political finagling was required. Philippe-Jean Bunau-Varilla, a businessman and engineer who had financed the original attempt, stood to lose his investment if the canal was left unfinished. He began lobbying US lawmakers and encouraging Panamanian independence movements which would prevent Colombian interference with US building efforts. It didn’t hurt that the US maintained an active military presence during the building to discourage conflict. American engineers also moved away from the original plans for a sea-level canal and began work on a lock-controlled canal which would would help them avoid the building problems the French had. Advancements in healthcare for workers and a new focus on mosquito control also helped save workers from catching the diseases that had killed so many during French construction.

Click the link to see the 1877 Map of the Isthmus in our Digital Collections
The AGSL has an extensive collection of materials on the Panama Canal. Theodore Roosevelt, a longtime friend and council member of the AGS until his presidency forced him to resign, was a great proponent of the canal. And the one of AGS’s own directors, Isaiah Bowman, made several trips to South America during his doctoral work and beyond, and championed efforts to create a map of “Hispanic America” as part of the international map of the world. Bowman, a controversial figure who was a known antisemite, contributed a large portion of the AGSL’s records on the Panama Canal. His particular interest in South America made the way for revolutionary cartographic work in the area, and the continued AGS sponsored expeditions are named for him.

Click the link to see a Transcription of Bowman’s Diaries from his 1907 trip to Panama in our Digital Collections 
Click the link to see a Photo of Railroad Tracks built during Canal Construction, Taken by Bowman 1907 in our Digital Collections
Work on the lock-controlled canal began in 1904, when the US was officially granted the rights to build by the newly-independent Panamanians. The French ship Alexandre la Valley made the first test-crossing of the canal in January 1914. Construction began winding down; pop-up towns were demolished, workers were laid off, and more permanent governance of the canal was established. A grand opening celebration was planned– but when World War I broke out, the festivities were downsized to something more modest. On August 15, 1914 the SS Ancon made the first official crossing, marking the grand opening of the Panama Canal. No international officials attended the opening, so George Washington Goethals, engineer and first governor of the Canal Zone, tracked the ships progress by train. The AGSL has several maps of the Panama Canal before and after its opening. Since its first ship-crossing, the Panama Canal has only grown; Panama took ownership of the canal in 1977, new construction began in 2007, and annual traffic has risen to nearly a million crossings.
To the Lighthouse: Representations of Lighthouses on Maps
By Lauren Maddox

Click the link to see Clarence W. Sorensen’s photo of a lighthouse in Gloucester, c. 1934-1969 in our Digital Collections
Lighthouses have been guiding us home over the rough sea from our earliest maritime beginnings– but our understanding of lighthouses and how we represent them on maps and nautical charts has changed drastically since these beginnings. While references to early lighthouses exist, including Homer’s claim that Palamedes devised a system of lit beacons to guide sailors, the first “regularly maintained” lighthouse in antiquity was on Cape Incihisari. J. Saxby Wryde, however, claims in his British Lighthouses: Their History and Romance that the most celebrated lighthouses in antiquity were built 400 years after this. The Colossus at Rhodes was erected in 278 B.C. and destroyed by an earthquake in 224; the remains were sold as brass and carted away on camels by a merchant. In 270 B.C., the famous Lighthouse of Alexandria was constructed in honor of Ptolemy Philadelphus on a small island in the Bay of Alexandria.

Click the link for details about the 1913 Edition of British Lighthouses 

Illustration of the Lighthouse of Alexandria
The function of lighthouses has also evolved over the years; in antiquity, lighthouses were only expected to indicate the location of ports. Lighthouses as we understand them today act as warnings for boats approaching reefs and rocky shores. This understanding of lighthouses as way markers is reflected on ancient maps. The Lighthouse of Alexandria is depicted pictorially in Braun and Hogenberg’s 16th century atlas Civitates Orbis Terrarum–the lighthouse is given the same attention as the city’s obelisk or its ruins; its existence is simply recorded and labeled with a single word: pharus for lighthouse. The lighthouse has obviously done its job, though; ships are shown moving towards the lighthouse and the port it is indicating. One ship is even flying St. George’s Cross, the British flag used by crusaders that was later adopted as the national flag in Medieval England.

Click the link to see the Atlas the illustration of The Lighthouse of Alexandria is in 
Alexandria
The Lighthouse of Alexandria was also doomed to be destroyed by earthquakes, but the bricks were used to construct the Citadel of Quaitbey. UWM professor Caroline Seymour-Jorn donated her photo collections to the AGSL , including several photos from 1996 visit to Egypt of the citadel.

Click the link to see this photo of Alexandria, Egypt: View of Quaitbey Citadel courtesy of Caroline Seymour-Jorn in our Digital Collections
The Roman Empire adopted the Greek pharos and began building them across Italy and the Empire, including the Tower of Hercules in A Coruña, Spain and Dover. The lighthouse in A Coruña is still functional, but many Roman lighthouses were abandoned in the Middle Ages and replaced. As travel and trade by sea became more and more prevalent, the need for lighthouses grew.

Click the link to see the 1724 Map of Kent by Herman Moll in our Digital Collections 
Dover, lighthouse indicated pictorially
Most lighthouses constructed during this time are no longer operational, but the Hook lighthouse in Ireland continues to be used. The building has been in operation for over 800 years and is now managed by the Commissioners of Irish Lights. Lighthouses in England were privately owned and operated during the Middle Ages and beyond. Because there was no regulation or standard policy, lighthouse keepers began to abuse their posts, stealing ship cargo and demanding payment from sailors. This problem became so pervasive that the Lighthouse Act of 1836 was passed in the hopes of making coasts safer for ships coming to port.
In the 18th century, lighthouse construction advanced to match the needs of a growing transatlantic trade. Bigger, better lighthouses were being built and were now being used as more than way markers; they could warn incoming ships and regulate boat traffic. In 1716, the first American lighthouse was built on the Boston Harbor; many more began to spring up in the subsequent years, and in 1851 Congress passed an act to facilitate the creation of the US Lighthouse Board, which would eventually be dissolved to make room for the Lighthouse Service. The AGSL has many of the Service’s records, including records of their history, finances, regulations, and buoyage and lighthouse systems.

Click the link to see the Boston Light Referenced on 1889 Map of Boston Harbor in our Digital Collections
With lighthouses increased utility and presence on coastlines, their representation on maps began to shift. Instead of being just illustrations or seamarks, lighthouses began to take on a new navigational importance. Diagrams of lighthouses, recordings of the range of their lights, and more exact buoy locations became a common part of maps.
Now lighthouses have a romantic air as well as a practical use; writers and artists work to capture the lighthouse. To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf comes to mind. And here, in Milwaukee, where the AGSL lives, we have our share of lighthouses on our Great Lake Michigan.
50th Anniversary of the Apollo 11 Moon Landing pop-up exhibit in the AGSL
by Angie Cope
The exhibit will be up from July 16 – July 26 during regular hours (M-F 8am-4:30pm).
Many of our maps have been scanned and are viewable in the AGS Library Digital Map Collection. https://collections.lib.uwm.edu/digital/collection/agdm/search/searchterm/moon
The AGSL Guided Tour: An Interview with Georgia Brown
Interview conducted by Lauren Maddox
This week, I sat down with Graduate Student Intern Georgia Brown to discuss one of her recent projects for the AGSL. Georgia is part of the School of Information Studies coordinated degree program working to receive her Master’s in both Library and Information Science and History. She has been a key member of the AGSL staff since 2018, contributing to many projects for the library. Recently, she designed a guided tour of the AGSL to make our collections more accessible to visitors exploring the library. To learn more about the tour and how you can take it, read on:
So, we’ve started giving visitors your Self-Guided Tour of the AGSL to help them navigate the library—could you talk a little about what the Guided Tour is and your process for creating it?
The guided tour helps people get into the space of the AGSL and really see more of the collection than is just out by the display cases. The process actually took a few months–I made a lesson plan last semester that had middle schoolers exploring the AGSL while also learning about the parts of a map. The lesson itself is a map of the library that the students use to figure out a different part of a map at each stop. After I made this, I realized that this would be an awesome way to have people just come visit the AGSL.
How would a visitor go about a Guided tour? Could you describe the process of getting a Guided Tour and what visitors see on it?
As soon as you walk into the AGSL, on the table to your right will be a stack of the guided tours. Someone on the library staff will ask if you need any help and if you are just there to look around, we’ll offer you the guided tour as a way to check out the library.

The Guided Tour, available at the front table in the AGSL 
Map of the Library
Why was this a necessary project? Has it made the AGSL more accessible to visitors?
Lots of people come in to see the AGSL, and some will take the time to walk around and see everything. But one of my biggest frustrations is seeing visitors come in, spin once in a circle, and then leave. I realized there was probably more they wanted to see, but something about the space made it seem scary or hard to approach. Now that the guided tour is being handed to patrons and visitors, I feel like they are seeing more of what is on display.
What patrons benefit the most? What impact has this had on visitors’ experiences in the library?
In the two weeks that I have been handing out the guided tour, I feel like only a third of the people who start it actually finish it in its entirety. The other two thirds, however, keep getting distracted by all of our other awesome materials on display. My goal with the tour was to get people into our space, and in just a short time, I have seen people just as interested in globes and maps that aren’t on the tour as the ones that are on the tour.
Did working on this project teach you anything about the AGS Library or about libraries in general?
One cool thing about putting this together was the amount of collaboration that went into it. After I made the first version, I gave a copy to five staff members and interns, and they each gave me their notes on the project.
Thank you Georgia for joining me for this interview. To take the tour yourself and see our amazing collection in person, visit the AGSL and take the guided tour! You can find us on the third floor of UWM’s Golda Meir Library, Monday through Friday, 8:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. We look forward to seeing you!
The Island of California
By Lauren Maddox

Illustration from La sergas de Esplandián
“Know that, on the right hand of the Indies, there is an island called California, very near to the Terrestrial Paradise;” this description, found in Chapter 157 of Las sergas de Esplandián, names a California at least sixteen years before Cortez spotted the coast of the land he would name California. The Spanish romance, which was a sequel to Garci Rodríguez de Montalvo’s better-known and better-received Amadis de Gaula, was largely forgotten despite being the first mention of a place named California. Esplandián was considered an inferior sequel and faded into insignificance; it’s greatest claim to fame is its brief appearance in Don Quixote’s library in Cervantes’s comical romance. And even that reference was unflattering. The curate chose to burn Esplandián instead of Amadis de Gaula because, he said, we should not “spare the son for the virtues of the father.”
So, Las sergas de Esplandián was a failed romance that was quickly forgotten. But, as the first recorded use of California, it stands to reason that this forgettable Spanish romance could have inspired Cortez when he encountered the lowest tip of the Baja California Peninsula, 775 miles from where the peninsula joins the mainland. As far as Coretz could tell from his ship, he had found an island on the right hand of the Indies, very near to the Terrestrial Paradise.
The misconception that California was an island would persist throughout the 16th century, and resurface with new, incorrect maps released in the 17th and 18th century. In 1539, Cortez’s navigator Francisco de Ullou ventured northward into California and discovered it was a peninsula, debunking the theory that California was an island just six years after the first sighting of the peninsula. Somehow, the legend persisted despite fairly correct representations of the peninsula being published as early as 1569.

Mercator’s 1569 edition of Orbis terrae compendiosa descriptio from Envisioning the World: The First Printed Maps 1472-1700 Click the link to see this map in our Digital Collections

America in the Mercator Map
Many cartographers incorporated Ullou’s discovery of the peninsula into their maps, including this 1569 world map by Gerard Mercator. If you look closely at America, you can see the Baja California Peninsula clearly and correctly attached to the mainland. This representation wouldn’t stick–the Baja California Peninsula would be confused for an island again after Juan de Fuca’s voyage at the turn of the century. In 1592, de Fuca claimed to have found a strait he thought could be the Northwest Passage with a large island at its mouth. Only one account of this discovery survived, and the location of de Fuca’s strait was confused with California, reviving the representation of California as an Island.
An overland expedition in 1602-1604 should have disproved de Fuca’s claim to have found a Northwest Passage, or at least cleared up any confusion about whether the Baja California Peninsula was the island he had claimed to see at the mouth of the strait. Despite Juan de Onate’s reports, the northern terminus of the Gulf of California was left vague on maps by the Spanish so that Cortez’s claim to the territory in 1533 could invalidate Drake’s later claim in 1579. Several maps released after Mercator’s map and de Onate’s reports show the peninsula detached from the mainland. One of the first atlas maps to depict California as an island was English mapmaker and historian John Speed’s America with those Known Parts in that Unknowne World both People and Manner of Building from 1626 or 27. This representation of America, seen again his A new and accurat map of the world reproduced by Randy McNally in 1966, also includes a fairly accurate mapping of the United States’ East Coast.
William Trevethen’s 1666 Americ descriptio nova depicts the Island of California once again. The Trevethen map also places Sir Francis Drake’s Nova Albion on the island; Nova Albion was actually a part of continental Mexico, and the English claim to Nova Albion was their foothold into claiming further continental territory, which is why the Spanish worked so hard to invalidate that claim. Nova Albion is now Point Reyes, which is just Northwest of the San Francisco area. The region North of the Island of California is marked “terra incognita” with a sea monster lurking in the waters to indicate the unknown and unexplored continent.

Click the link to see the Americ descriptio nova 1666, published in 1670 edition of Peter Heylyn’s Cosmography in our Digital Collections
A 1677 world map in the AGSL collection by Pierre Duval includes the Island of California at the mouth of an approximately placed strait. This map also includes a vague coast line marked “terre de Iaso” just Northwest of California. The “terre de Iaso” was thought to be a region where Japan connected to North America.



L’America Settentrionale, another 1677 map by Guillaume Sanson, leaves the unexplored areas of North America blank to indicate the unknown, but clearly includes the island of California. Remarkably, the French maps do not include Nova Albion.

Click the link to see Guillaume Sanson’s 1677 Map of America in our Digital Collections
At the end of the 16th century, Dutch cartographers Gerard and Leonard Valck produced another map depicting California as an island. The Valck map, like the 1677 Duval map, includes a reference to an area connecting North America and Asia. On the Valck map, it is referred to as the “Terra Esonis.” The Valcks only include the vague coastline of the fabled connection, leaving a blank space– perhaps to leave room for future discoveries. The map includes detailed records of place names and waterways, as well as an illustrated cartouche depicting a pair of “Americans” surrounded by bountiful crops and exotic animals.

Click the link to see the Valcks’ 1690 Map of America in our Digital Collections
This map was produced just eight years before Eusebio Francisco Kino’s series of overland expeditions, which would finally confirm that the Baja California Peninsula was indeed a peninsula. Kino, a Jesuit missionary and cartographer, believed that California was an island until he began to explore deeper into the continent. He initially intended to establish a route between Jesuit missions in Sonoran and Baja California on his expeditions from 1698-1706, but also reported and confirmed the land connection and reestablished the existence of the Baja California Peninsula. The Jesuit order generally accepted his claims, but Europeans were slow to incorporate the peninsula into their own maps because of conflicting reports from Juan Mateo Manje, who joined Kino on several expeditions. Maps created into the 18th century by Europeans still recorded the Island of California’s existence; these two English maps were created just a few years after Kino’s final confirmation of the peninsula’s land connection. The first map, Michael Burgher’s 1714 A New Map of North America, depicts the topography of the area, as well as records of new discoveries, settlements, and claimed and unclaimed territory. The 1717 Map of America by Herman Moll has a similar focus, but includes South America.


The latest map in the AGSL collection depicting California as an island is Matthaeus Seutter’s 1740 map. The hand-colored map is filled with notes and ship routes, as well as two detailed cartouches depicting local peoples and their conversion to Christianity. Seutter’s map also references an Ocean of California surrounding the island and several sketches of aquatic plants.

Click the link to see the 1740 Seutter Map in our Digital Collections
Montalvo’s lost romance tells stories of a bountiful and fertile island ruled by women adorned in gold and jewels, and the Queen Calafia who fell in love with a Spanish man and forfeited her power, treasures, and land to their king for the chance to marry him. In Las sergas de Esplandián, the island of California is full of potential coveted by conquering Europeans. In many ways, this fiction became reality– California became an island, first by misconception, and then deception as the Spanish maneuvered to maintain their claim on the land and prevent English settlement. And in our collections, we have 200 years of maps recording one of cartography’s longest-lived errors.
The Lost Franklin Expedition and the Early Years of the AGS
By Lauren Maddox
On May 19th, 1845, John Franklin, Francis Crozier, and the crews of the HMS Terror and HMS Erebus set out from Greenhithe, England on an expedition intended to explore previously unexplored areas of the Canadian Arctic and to complete the Northwest Passage. Lady Jane Franklin, with no word from Franklin and concerned for the welfare of her husband, began petitioning the British Admiralty to begin searching for the lost expedition as soon as 1847.

Click the link to see this excerpt From the November 13, 1847 Edition of Sheffield and Rotherham Independent
The Franklin expedition had been supplied with three years worth of canned goods to supplement the men’s hunting efforts; the British Admiralty assumed that the crew could comfortably survive another year before needing rescue. Unfortunately, the food provisioning contract had been awarded to Stephen Goldner just weeks before the Terror and Erebus set out. In his rush to fulfill the order of 8,000 cans of food, Goldner failed to check the quality of lead soldering on the tins. The food spoiled quickly, leaving the crew without proper provisions on their journey and unable to hunt once the ship was trapped in ice.
Official preparations for the rescue effort began in 1847– the Admiralty chose the three most likely routes that the Franklin expedition might have taken. The ships were likely icebound, so an overland rescue expedition would have to be arranged. Sir John Richardson, a seasoned arctic explorer who had traveled with Franklin on previous expeditions, chose a route along the Mackenzie River and the shores of Victoria Land and Wollaston Land, now Victoria Island and Wollaston Peninsula, which seemed most consistent with Franklin’s original travel plans. John Rae, another arctic explorer well-known for his prowess at safe and efficient overland travel, as well as his rapport with local indigenous peoples, was included in the rescue plans.

Click the link to see these Tracings of Dr. Rae’s Discoveries in the Arctic, 1851 from the AGS-NY Archives 
Flip Side
After travelling together overland and gathering information from locals, the men wintered in Fort Confidence; using the fort as a base of operations, Rae continued his search around the areas between the Mackenzie and Coppermine Rivers. In 1849, the two men decided that Rae would take the single boat and continue the journey on their intended route with a smaller crew of six men. Richardson returned to Liverpool on November 6, 1849. The above tracings of John Rae’s sketch maps outline his discoveries in 1851. Rae would continue charting the area and searching for signs Franklin’s lost expedition into 1854, but during this time, several other search expeditions were launched, including Henry Grinnell’s.

The Lost Franklin expedition would turn out to be instrumental in the foundation of the American Geographical Society. Henry Grinnell, wealthy merchant and the first elected president of the AGS, retired in 1850 to dedicate his life to philanthropy. Grinnell was a passionate follower of the search for John Franklin; in its collection, the AGSL has several scrapbooks of newspaper clippings following the story collected by Grinnell himself. The scrapbooks contain materials on previous expeditions as well as Grinnell’s own. He was particularly moved by Lady Jane Franklin’s continued appeals to American President Zachary Taylor for help finding her lost husband; when Congress hesitated to provide the aid required for a rescue expedition, Grinnell himself bought and refitted two brigs for arctic travel. He loaned these ships to the US Navy for use in an arctic exploration expedition in the hopes that John Franklin, or some trace of what happened to him, could be found.

Click the link to see Chart Exhibiting Discoveries of the First Grinnell Expedition submitted by Kane in our Digital Archives

Click to see this Unidentified Notebook, 1854 found aboard the HMS Resolute after it was abandoned in the search for Franklin in our Digital Collections
The First Grinnell expedition set out in the summer of 1850– the same year preliminary talks about founding an American geographical society began. Geography in the Making: The American Geographical Society 1851-1951 intimates in a single sentence that, though there is no “positive evidence” that Grinnell’s polar interests influence the foundation of the Society, the timing of his arctic expeditions and his election as president seem to suggest it. The expedition, lead by Edwin de Haven and including Elisha Kent Kane, set out in May and would continue their search through ice and bad weather for a year. They met with British search parties, including the first expedition on the HMS Resolute lead by, and joined forces to comb the area thoroughly– during the winter, however, the Advance and the Rescue were separated and icebound. Elisha Kane submitted a chart with a revised survey of the coast of Greenland and the party’s escape route south. This chart also shows the newly christened Grinnell Land, which De Haven named in honor of the expedition’s patron. After being forced to winter over in the ice, it was decided that the two ships should return with what news they had, though it was not very much: all the expedition had discovered about the lost Franklin party was their first camp, abandoned, and three graves on Beechy Island.

Click the link to see this Chart Exhibiting Discoveries of the Second Grinnell Expedition by Kane in our Digital Collections
Unsatisfied with the results of the first expedition, Grinnell began planning a second search for Franklin. Elisha Kane would lead the expedition north of Beechy Island where Franklin’s first camp was found and into the open summer polar sea. The search plan was approved by the American Geographical Society in New York and financially supported by Grinnell and other philanthropists. Isaac Israel Hayes, another well-known name in the AGSL archives, signed onto the expedition as surgeon. The small crew set out on the Advance on May 30th, 1853 with meager provisions and research instruments. This expedition would shed no new light of the disappearance of Franklin’s expedition, but it would go farther north than any expedition before it, setting a new record, and allow Kane to gather useful geographical, climate, and magnetic observations. The journey was harrowing and the men, trapped for two winters in the ice, running low on supplies, and afflicted with scurvy, would be forced to abandon the Advance in search of rescue. Three men were lost during the expedition and Kane’s health would continue to deteriorate. He died in 1857, just two years after the expedition returned– the same year as his account of the journey was published.

Click the link to see these Items Recovered by Rae, currently housed in the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, London
The Grinnell Expeditions were unsuccessful in discovering the fate of the lost Franklin expedition. But during this time, John Rae’s own expedition was still on-going. In 1853, he encountered a group of Inuit who had several artifacts from Franklin’s crew in their possession. This included several pieces of monogrammed silverware, coins, and a pocket watch. Rae purchased these items from the Inuit and began interviewing locals. This was how he eventually discovered the sad fate of the Franklin expedition. While completing his survey of West Boothia, Rae heard about a group of white men who had starved four years earlier in a camp nearby. Rae continued his search until he discovered the final camp of the Franklin expedition. In his letter to the Admiralty, he described the state of the camp and the signs of cannibalism he found there. But, “any tidings, however meager and unexpectedly obtained” were better than none in Rae’s opinion.

Click the link to see “Arctic Exploration, With Information Respecting Sir John Franklin’s Missing Party.” 1855
The British Admiralty published John Rae’s letter without his knowledge before his return to England in 1854. The public was outraged by his claims; Charles Dickens maligned him in the press and his findings were mostly ignored by Lady Jane Franklin who continued her search into the 1880s. However, later expeditions would only confirm what Rae had discovered, and the British Admiralty officially presumed the entire crew of the Franklin expedition dead. Rae’s crew collected the reward, but his reputation never recovered. Other explorers who had joined in the search for Franklin were knighted, but Rae, for implying that officers of the Royal Navy would stoop to cannibalism, was mostly kept out of the picture.
Rae published several articles in the Journal of the American Geographical Society of New York after his days of Arctic exploration were behind him. He shared his discoveries and practical advice with other explorers in the spirit of the AGS’s organizational purpose: “furthering the understanding of the role of geography in our lives.” After his death in 1893, the AGS published his obituary in their journal, honoring John Rae for his 35 years as a Corresponding Member of the AGS and his important contributions to geography. The Society had this to say about Dr. John Rae: “He wrote with simplicity and force, but he was more concerned to do things worthy of record than to record them. He had the gifts of the born explorer, the habit of exact observation, courage and fertility of resource, untiring energy, activity and strength; and with these a firmness and generosity of character that won the respect and the affection of men.”
And in the AGSL archives, relics of a longstanding friendship between the Society and Rae: a collection of years of correspondence from Rae and his wife Kate to the AGS.











The young beginnings of the American Geographical Society were tied to those first Arctic expeditions to find Franklin, and this legacy of Arctic exploration continued into the 20th century. Luckily, records from these early years remain in the AGSL collection as a reminder of these tragic and exciting origins.
The Sanborn Fire Insurance Maps: Milwaukee Before and After the Third Ward Fire of 1892
By Lauren Maddox
The 1894 and 1910 Sanborn Maps of Milwaukee currently featured on the AGSL website catalog over 12,000 detailed color map sheets of Milwaukee. The Sanborn map collection, which, in its entirety, contains roughly fifty thousand editions of fire insurance maps, was intended to inform fire insurance agents about fire hazards associated with individual properties in a city. The maps contain relevant information about building materials, layout, and fire prevention measures in residential and industrial buildings throughout Milwaukee as well as the actual layout of the city.



But these maps don’t just detail the fire hazards of a city– they also capture the changes that happen in an ever-growing and ever-evolving urban space. The Sanborn maps have been described as the “the single most important record of urban growth and development in the United States during the past one hundred years” and detail over 12,000 towns across the United States, Canada, and Mexico from 1867 to today. The AGSL digitized its collection of Milwaukee Sanborn maps in 2007 and made them available through the AGSL Digital Collections. Then in 2017, former AGSL student assistant Belle Lipton and the Milwaukee County Land Information Office georeferenced the AGSL’s collection of 1910 Sanborn map sheets to create the Sanborn Discovery App 1910: a seamless and immersive version of the 1910 Sanborn map sheets that overlay a current satellite map of Milwaukee. The Sanborn maps contain references to buildings that no longer exist and empty lots that have since been developed; the Riverside Printing Company on sheet 329 is now a parking lot, and underneath the mostly empty map sheet 135 now sits Carver Park’s two baseball diamonds. Looking at these two maps right on top of the other, it’s easy to see how much Milwaukee has changed in the intermediate 107 years.
However, we know that the city’s face was changing even before the Sanborn maps began to record it. Just two years before the first Sanborn fire insurance maps of Milwaukee in 1984, the historic Third Ward burned down. And years before that, the city was still growing and changing with time. The Sanborn maps capture what the city was like two years after the fire– but earlier maps in the AGSL archives reveal what the city looked like before the Sanborn fire insurance maps, before the tragic Third Ward fire, and before even the founding of Milwaukee.
The three maps shown above, created by I.A. Lapham spanning from 1836 to 1869, illustrate Milwaukee’s growth over thirty-three years. Together, they create a picture of the city’s founding and continued development. The first map depicts the Milwaukee land district before the city was officially founded. The two later maps were recorded after Juneautown, Kilbourntown, and Walker’s Point were combined and incorporated as the City of Milwaukee. There was substantial development between 1856 and 1869, which is made even more obvious by comparing the two maps side-by-side.
The 1876 map of Milwaukee by H. Belden and Co. presents an even more developed Milwaukee than the previous Lapham maps. The map was originally drawn up in 1876 and included in the Atlas of the State of Wisconsin in 1876, but was reprinted in 1881 as a part of the expanded Illustrated Historical Atlas of Milwaukee County Wisconsin. The first version of the map shown was donated to the AGSL by Martin Lange Jr. in 2009.
This 1891 map of Milwaukee, Wisconsin published by the Matthews-Northrup Company just one year before fire in the Third Ward gives us one last look at the city before the fire. The Third Ward was growing with the rest of the city, but sudden catastrophes will always change a place.
At 5:12, 5:20, and 5:40 p.m., October 28th, 1892, fire alarms rang out across Bradford and Bartlett, Greenfield Avenue, and Eleventh Avenue. Then, at 5:43, the fire alarm at East Water Street was sounded, signaling to firefighters that the Union Oil Company warehouse building was burning. The smaller fires throughout the neighborhood prevented responders from reaching the Union Oil building for fifteen minutes, by which point the fire had already become an inferno. The oil in the warehouse provided plenty of fuel, which burned brilliantly into the evening. The crisp Autumn wind carried the embers from the Union Oil Company warehouse fire to other buildings throughout the Third Ward, including a distillery, a soap factory, and countless homes.
By midnight, the fire had burned through 16 city blocks, destroyed 440 buildings, killed five,injured dozens, and displaced hundreds of families. The Milwaukee Journal estimated that the total property loss was equivalent to somewhere between three and five million dollars– something more like 60 million today. Relief committees sprang up to shelter and feed victims of the fire who had lost their homes; some even endeavored to employ those whose workplaces had been destroyed overnight. The damage was so extensive that many residents were unable to rebuild. Only a small percentage of homeowners had fire insurance, and the pressure to add expensive fire-proof brick shells to their homes while rebuilding prevented many from returning. The Ward’s population shrank as residents were forced to move to other parts of the city in search of housing and work.

Vol. 1 Sheet 005 1910 Sanborn Map of Milwaukee depicting East Water Street 
Vol. 1 Sheet 010 depicting East Water Street
This catastrophic fire transformed the Third Ward and Milwaukee as a whole. Efforts to rebuild began immediately, and over the next 30 years the Third Ward slowly became a busy commerce district again. The two Sanborn map sheets shown depict East Water St., where the Union Oil Company fire began. The neighborhood continued to change over the years until it eventually became the Historic Third Ward as we know it today.

The Comprehensive Map of Downtown Milwaukee 2001 
Section of the Official 2019 Milwaukee Visitors Map from Visit Milwaukee
The Historic Third Ward Association marks the Third Ward as the “site of Milwaukee’s most devastating fire and its most remarkable rebuilding efforts.” Today, the historic neighborhood is host to over 500 businesses, 20 galleries and art studios, and 1,200 residential units. It’s home to Summerfest, the Public Market, the Broadway Theatre Center, and so much more; it is, as the Association puts it, a neighborhood in renaissance. The Sanborn maps, and the many other maps of Milwaukee before and after the fire, remind us how much Milwaukee has grown, built, and rebuilt over its history, and how much we are still growing.


























































































