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Paper Trail
Close-ups—and some recent history of Sterling’s rare maps

After the map dealer E. Forbes Smiley III accidentally dropped an X-Acto blade on the floor of the Beinecke Library in June 2005, and was arrested by New Haven police with five of Yale’s rare maps hidden in his briefcase and suit pocket, the Yale libraries began an emergency map inventory.

 
Librarians quickly identified more than a dozen missing maps.

In July 2005, University Librarian Alice Prochaska called in an outside auditor on the project—Bill Reese '77, head of one of the largest U.S. dealerships in rare books and manuscripts. Checking the Beinecke was relatively straightforward, says Reese. It has an up-to-date electronic catalog and keeps records of every item ever viewed by every patron. Reese’s staff and librarians inspected the books Smiley had looked at and quickly identified more than a dozen missing maps he had probably stolen. (Smiley later admitted to taking all but one of them. All but three were recovered.)

But the Sterling Map Collection was different. No lists of its patrons' requests had been kept. Only a quarter of its 11,000 rare and antique maps had been entered into Orbis, Sterling’s electronic catalog. The card catalog proved strangely unreliable. So, in late July, as the FBI was pressing libraries everywhere to find out whether they were missing any maps, Reese came up with a shortcut. “I sat down and I said to myself, ‘If I was Forbes Smiley, what would I steal?’”

Smiley had dealt principally in the rarest and most expensive antique American maps. Reese put together a list of about a hundred likely targets. To find out which of them had once been in the collection but had disappeared, staff assistant Margit Kaye tracked down old acquisitions records, and the staff pored over microfiche of the card catalog as it existed in 1978. All this research was necessary because, disturbingly, the cards for many of the missing maps were themselves missing from the catalog.

Using Reese’s list as a guide, by August the investigation had identified 50 valuable American maps that were missing. In his plea bargain, however, Smiley admitted to 97 thefts, only 11 of them from Sterling; those 11 were recovered.

As it became clear that the FBI investigation would take many months, and, Reese says, as he and Prochaska began to understand “the depth of what had gone on,” they decided to do a complete inventory—the first comprehensive inventory of the Sterling Map Collection since 1978. The record-keeping marathon lasted until February and identified another 50 missing maps. Many lay far outside Smiley’s geographic territory and far below his preferred price range. Ultimately, Fred Musto, the Map Collection curator for a decade, was fired for gross mismanagement. (Yale administrators don’t discuss personnel matters, but the Hartford Courant reported the dismissal in January 2006, and several library staff have confirmed it.)

 
Sterling’s collection of rare maps had fallen upon dark days.

And so Smiley’s sentence of five years, handed down in June 2006, and the FBI’s recovery of dozens of maps he had stolen from institutions in the United States and Britain, were bittersweet victories for Yale. A Yale employee had exposed Smiley’s thefts. But his arrest exposed the fact that Sterling’s collection of rare maps, a small but brilliant historical gem, had fallen upon dark days.

The Map Collection was founded in 1946 by Alexander O. Vietor '36, son of a wealthy New York City family, who served until 1978 as the collection’s first curator. Vietor was a discerning scholar and active collector in the post-Depression and post-World War II period, when a great deal of cartographic material was coming onto the market. Often, if the library couldn’t afford a map Vietor wanted, he'd buy it himself and donate it. “Many of the finer examples” of the Sterling Map Collection, map dealer W. Graham Arader III '73 has written, “were discovered and purchased by him personally, while the collection as a whole grew prodigiously, both in size and importance, during his tenure as its curator.”

Since Vietor’s era, the collector’s market in rare maps has exploded, and the quality of his choices has been made obvious by the price tags now attached to comparable items on the market. Yale has a print of a 1507 map by Johann Ruysch (page 47), one of the first printed maps known to include the New World; another print, privately owned, was advertised for sale a few years ago at $325,000. A few of Vietor’s acquisitions for Yale, like the bound volume containing George Washington’s personal collection of maps (page 49), can hardly be priced at all.

But the opening of the Beinecke in 1963 and the Center for British Art in 1977, with their sumptuous new buildings and the world-class map collections donated by their founders, marked a shift.

 
By the early ’90s, Sterling was having trouble just keeping the rain out.

The Beinecke especially, as a prominent showcase for rare books and papers, drew attention from the many rarities collections in Sterling. And the Beinecke had money. It  was equipped from the beginning with sophisticated temperature- and humidity-control systems, but by the early 1990s Sterling, badly in need of a renovation, was having trouble just keeping the rain out. The building was so short on space that by 1999, up to a quarter of the Map Collection was shelved in dysfunctional places. The collection’s staff—until 2001, just one curator, one assistant, and a part-time cataloger—was too small for cataloging an inventory of some 200,000 sheet maps and 3,000 atlases. (It can take up to two hours to catalog a single map, according to interim curator Abraham Kaleo Parrish.) And while the Beinecke has also suffered thefts in recent years—it struggles, like Sterling and like all libraries, to balance free access for scholars and students with security for the collections—it does have video surveillance of its reading room and an up-to-date, secure catalog.

Today, Sterling and its storage space have been renovated. No one sees any of Sterling’s rare maps without first signing a form and listing the map requested. Patrons can see only one item at a time, and only while they themselves are under constant surveillance by two video cameras. Two full-time catalogers are now at work in the collection, and the 11,000 rarities are their main charge.

All this modernizing fits the larger scope of the Map Collection today. The maps most used now are those that can be mined for land-use analyses: a collection of 7,000 Sanborn Fire Insurance maps for Connecticut cities is so popular that the staff has put them all online. Another much-used set is the U.S. Geological Survey topographical collection -- 80,000 topos in all, covering the entire United States and going back to the 1940s.

The Map Collection has also opened a successful line in digital cartography. Parrish was originally hired in 2001 as a GIS (Geographic Information Systems) specialist. He and GIS assistant Stacey Maples, hired in 2005, provide GIS consultation, give tutorials year-round, and take on six to eight complex computer mapping projects every year. Over the past several months, Maples has been charting Boswell’s 1764 travels through German and Swiss territory for a forthcoming volume of the Yale Boswell Editions. By superimposing scans of eighteenth-century German postal route maps on modern latitude and longitude coordinates, and then stretching and squeezing the digital fabric of the old maps to bring their towns and features into alignment with the modern data, Maples was able to deliver eighteenth-century historical information with twenty-first-century geographic accuracy.

 
“The Forbes Smiley thing was a wake-up call.”

Eventually, Prochaska hopes to combine the collection’s strengths—the very old and the very new—by scanning all of the 11,000 rare maps and putting them online for research. The old maps aren’t widely known, Parrish admits. The Internet will help.

“If you look at the silver lining to the cloud, the Forbes Smiley thing was a wake-up call,” says Reese. Since the thefts were discovered, he says, Yale has taken “huge strides” to protect the collection and make it more accessible.

Smiley’s thefts are also a reminder to appreciate what’s left. Great universities and libraries are important partly because they preserve cultural treasures and make them available to all. In that spirit, we offer a sampling of the rarities on Sterling’s seventh floor.   the end

 
 

 

 

Related

Slide show of selections from the Sterling Map Collection.

 
 
 
 
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