John Slezer's Scotland

In 1693, John Slezer published his 'Theatrum Scotiae', a remarkable book of engraved views that offered readers a new way to see Scotland. It was not merely a set of images, but an ambitious statement about place, power and identity: a printed Scotland made legible through castles, palaces, burghs, universities and churches. Slezer's views still fascinate today because they sit at the meeting point of art, maps, architecture and history, preserving a country in the act of being observed and interpreted.

For the National Library of Scotland, it is both a major publication and an important part of the visual history of the nation. The views reveal how Scotland was understood in the late 17th century, and how print could help shape the way a nation imagined itself. For anyone coming to Slezer's work for the first time, the 'Theatrum Scotiae' is an excellent introduction to the visual culture of early modern Scotland. The engravings can be compared with surviving buildings, later maps and other historical images. They open up questions about how Scotland was seen at home and abroad, and how artists and surveyors helped create a shared sense of place.

Who was Slezer?

John Slezer was a military engineer, probably from the upper Rhineland in what is now Germany. He first came to Scotland in 1669 and soon began making contacts among the nobility, including the earls of Argyll and Kincardine. His skills as a draughtsman and engineer brought him official work, and in 1671 he was appointed Chief Engineer for Scotland. From 1677, he also took on responsibilities for overseeing military defences. That was also the year he married Jean Straiton, whose family had military connections. The couple had at least three sons, and Slezer's eldest son later joined the artillery.

His military work took him to castles, forts and other strategic sites, which he surveyed and drew. In 1678, he wrote a plan for a book of "the figures, and draughts, and frontispiece ... of all the King's Castles, Pallaces, towns, and other notable places in the kingdom". That project eventually appeared in 1693 as the 'Theatrum Scotiae'.

A vision of Scotland

'Theatrum Scotiae' brought together 57 engraved plates of views, along with 65 pages of text by Robert Sibbald, Scotland’s Geographer Royal. The title is a clue to how the book works. A theatrum is a stage or theatre: a place where things are shown, arranged and made visible. Slezer's Scotland is not a neutral inventory of sites, but a country presented for viewing, a landscape transformed into a sequence of scenes. It also helped to support Slezer's income by including civic and antiquarian sites as well as military ones. His drawings were shaped by surveying and measurement for military purposes, but also by a clear eye for what would make an engaging image.

The book includes castles, royal residences, burghs, churches, universities and other notable places. Slezer also made sure to include the houses of nobles and landowners, along with their coats of arms and family mottoes. In other words, he was not only recording buildings, but also showing the places that represented power, learning, memory and status.

There was also a political side to this. The late 17th century was a time of change and uncertainty in Scotland, and print played an increasing role in how people understood the world around them. Slezer's engravings belong to that wider story, showing how Scotland was imagined then, and how printed images could help give a nation shape.

That made the book unusual for its time. Scotland already had local histories and written descriptions, but printed images of the country were much less common. Slezer's volume brought many important places together in one publication, creating a visual survey of Scotland that readers could return to again and again.

How were the views made?

Slezer's skill as a draughtsman was only the beginning. His papers show that he worked with other artists on some of the drawings, and a few views — including Heriot's Hospital and the College of Glasgow — seem quite different from his usual style. John, or Jan, Wyck, known as "the battle painter", added figures and other details that brought the scenes to life.

To turn the drawings into printed images, the designs had to be transferred onto copper plates. Robert White engraved most of them. A few plates, probably those prepared in Holland, were etched instead. Etching used acid to bite lines into the copper after they had been drawn through a protective coating of wax. It produced softer lines than engraving, which was made by cutting directly into the plate with a burin, a sharp metal tool.

It has been estimated that the engraving of each of the 'Theatrum Scotiae' plates cost around £4.10 per plate, perhaps over £800 today in standard purchasing-power terms, which represented about three months of pay for one of Slezer's artillerymen.

Publication and reception

Printing was a slow and costly process. The finished plates were inked, covered with damp paper and passed through a press so that the image could be taken from the copper.

Sadly, the 'Theatrum Scotiae' did not sell well. Slezer complained that London booksellers "do malitiously opposte the sale of ..[the] 'Theatrum Scotiae'" and were not helping its success. But the book was also expensive and the market for printed books in Scotland at this time was small. Hard times such as poor harvests, famine, trade disruption and shortages of money also made sales harder. In 1696 Slezer told the Scots Parliament that he still had "near ane hundred of them lying on his hand at London, which do not sell".

Even so, the printed copies allowed his work to travel far beyond the places shown in it. Readers in Edinburgh, London and elsewhere could see Scotland through the same set of images. In that way, the book helped create a shared visual idea of the country.

Debt and death: Slezer's final years

Slezer made several petitions to the Scots Parliament for funding, but the book's lack of success, and his insufficient, irregular income from the military, eventually caused Slezer to fall into debt. Aside from the expense of producing the book, he had other costs to cover, including paying for military staff and equipment. He was forced to take sanctuary from creditors in Holyrood Abbey grounds from 1705. Holyrood had long been a place where people could avoid arrest for debt. Slezer lived there during the week, but he was able to visit his family in the city on Sundays.

He remained Captain of the Artillery Train in Scotland and still hoped to publish a larger book of views, 'The Ancient and Present State of Scotland'. That work never appeared. Slezer died in 1717, leaving debts of over £2,000. 

Unfortunately for Slezer, 'Theatrum Scotiae' sold much better after he died and his work was reissued in later editions and featured in books by other authors.

Why the Theatrum mattered in its own time

Slezer's plates were not exact architectural records, and they were not meant to be. Like earlier landscape artists such as Wenceslaus Hollar, he was more interested in showing the scale, importance and character of a place than in producing a perfectly accurate view. The result is not a straightforward record of the past, but a set of carefully chosen images, made from particular viewpoints.

In Slezer's hands, a castle becomes a sign of power and lineage. A university becomes a symbol of learning and civic pride. A burgh becomes a picture of local life and identity. He often placed buildings against open skies, showed towns from flattering angles, and gave ruins and strongholds a sense of dignity and presence.

That is why the engravings are so compelling. Slezer was not simply recording Scotland, but also shaping the way it could be seen. The images suggest order, precision and reliability, but they also show what kinds of places were valued.

Why the engravings still matter today

Slezer's engravings still appeal because they work on several levels. They are attractive images that preserve buildings and places, but they also show how Scotland was understood in the late 17th century. They raise questions that resonate today: how do we show a place? Who decides what is worth recording? How do images help shape the idea of a nation?

Before photography, engraved views were one of the main ways to share images of places. They could be printed in books, collected, copied and reused. That meant their influence could reach far beyond the people who first saw them. Slezer's Scotland mattered at the time, but it also shaped the way later generations saw the country.

The collection is useful in many different fields. Historians can read the plates as evidence of power and identity. Architectural historians can use them to study buildings that survive, or have changed over time. Local historians can compare the views with early maps and records to trace the history of particular sites. Students of print culture can explore how image and text worked together. General readers can simply enjoy them as striking pictures with a lot to say.

The relationship between the prints and the places they show is especially interesting. Some buildings still survive, though altered. Others have gone completely. And some towns look very different now. This is also because the plates are not just illustrations, but records of what was once considered important enough to depict.

More than 300 years after it was first published, the 'Theatrum Scotiae' still rewards careful looking. It shows not only what Slezer saw, but what he thought mattered enough to record. That is what makes it such a rich source for anyone interested in history, places and the power of images.