This article investigates an aristocratic domus located on the Arx, overlooking the better-known insula of the Aracoeli from the northern summit of the Capitoline hill. This domus was buried during the construction of the basilica of Santa Maria in Aracoeli in the thirteenth century and remained sealed until the 1980s. I have reconstructed its layout — at least three levels survive — relying on my architectural survey and on the Vittoriano archives. The original phase dates from the first century BC, but substantial restorations were made during the Flavian age, when the domus lost its fauces–atrium–tablinum pattern, and in the early third century AD, when it was expanded vertically by a deep cut into the tuff bank, received a new facade and was redecorated with frescoes. The domus of the Aracoeli must have been a residence of high status, and in the Severan age it was supplied by lead pipes bearing imperial stamps. Although the Capitoline was mostly occupied by public buildings, the Arx was a prestigious neighbourhood and not a sort of monumental acropolis. I discuss the development and the architectural design of the domus of the Aracoeli, including its underground residential spaces as well as its sculptural and painted decoration; finally, I examine the remodellings of the original atrium house from a socio-cultural point of view.

In the early twentieth century, Thomas Ashby published extensively on the Roman roads of Italy. The BSR Director was determined to create a lasting record of the ancient Roman road network before it was lost forever. Yet Ashby's research vision was grand and it was too ambitious a task for one man to accomplish on his own. This paper investigates the crucial role of BSR scholars in Ashby's research. It discusses his relationship with the community of residents and scholars at the BSR in the pre- and post-World War I years, especially those with whom he collaborated in order to survey, map and record the Roman roads and their surrounding countryside. Focus is given to Ashby's research on roads like the Via Flaminia and Via Appia as this work highlights his methodology, the collegial environment at the BSR during his directorship, and his successful collaboration with award-holders. To date, the role of these BSR scholars has largely been underrated. Yet there were BSR award-holders — historians, archaeologists and architects — who helped to keep Ashby's research vision alive. Without them, he could not have produced such a comprehensive and impressive body of work on Italy's Roman roads.

The time is not yet ripe for a detailed account of the post-classical Ager Veientanus. The excavations at Capracorum (S. Cornelia) await publication and only two of the deserted medieval villages have been so much as sampled archaeologically. What follows can be no more than an interim account, setting out something of the historical and topographical framework within which future research may be expected to develop.

As the preceding chapter has shown, the collapse of the Western Roman Empire did not involve any immediate change in the social structure of the countryside north of Rome. Some properties were abandoned, others no doubt changed hands, but for a long time there does not seem to have been any radical shift in the pattern of settlement. Here and there one comes upon traces of what may have been squatters occupying the ruins of deserted villas and farms as early as the fifth and sixth centuries. But the sites that have yielded the bulk of the recognisably late Red Polished pottery are all the centres of large estates which had been continuously occupied since early Imperial times.

In 1956 the British Museum acquired on loan from the Victoria and Albert Museum a series of eighteen stucco reliefs of the kind used by the Romans in the interior decoration of walls and vaults: these were bought in 1078, together with a terracotta relief, and were all ascribed to a ‘Greek tomb of the second century B.C. lately discovered in South Italy.’ They appear as follows in the British Museum Register of Antiquities:

1. In relief foreparts of Griffin facing right, ending in short twisted tail. Background painted red. 35 × 39·5 cm.

2. In relief foreparts of panther facing left, ending in short twisted tail. Background painted red. 35 × 38·8 cm.

3. In relief ‘putto’ moving left holding a patera (?) in his right hand and tambourine in left hand. Overhead hanging swags. 47·7 × 35 cm.

4. ‘Putto’ flying to right holding a lyre in right hand. Overhead hanging swags. 49·6 × 35·6 cm.

5. In relief a winged Victory moving lightly to right. 48·3 × 34·4 cm.

6. In relief ‘putto’ running to right, over his left arm a small piece of drapery. Overhead hanging swags. 48·3 × 39·5 cm.

7. Concave and framed with leaf-tongue moulding. In relief ‘putto’ riding a sea-horse. 30·5 × 39·5 cm.

8. Concave and framed by leaf-tongue moulding. In relief ‘putto’ riding sea-monster. 31·2 × 43·9 cm.

9. In relief half-reclining semi-nude female figure, probably Venus. 30·5 × 37·6 cm.

10. Concave, framed by leaf-moulding. In relief ‘putto’ on back of panther prancing to left. 31·8 × 34·4 cm.

11. In relief, griffin prancing to left. 28 × 33·1 cm.

L'articolo si divide in due parti. La prima contiene una cronologia delle pergamene tuttora esistenti dei principi normanni di Capua e della loro cerchia famigliare più stretta. La seconda tratta della cancelleria dei principi, della preservazione e trasmissione dei loro documenti, e del tipo di patrocinio rivelato da questi documenti. La cancelleria non fu mai molto attiva, ed in tempi normali non prevedeva la presenza di più di un notaio. Ciononostante i documenti ivi compilati e soprawissuti costituiscono una fonte storica di primaria importanza, indebitamente trascurata dagli studiosi moderni. Poichè non tutti questi documenti sono stati pubblicati, questo calendario rappresenta un'iniziativa di prima necessità, tanto più che le poche pubblicazioni esistenti sono molto disperse e difficili da rintracciare.

On the peninsula of Capo di Pula, which lies some 32 km. west of Cagliari on the south coast of Sardinia, are the ruins of a Roman town overlying those of Punic date. The peninsula is shaped like a triangle; one corner now touches the mainland and forms a narrow isthmus of sand; the outer two corners are rocky promontories surrounded by scarps. Here stood the ancient town; excavation has revealed considerable urban remains, including the foundations of a temple of Tanit, with fine Punic masonry dating back to the fifth century B.C., a street plan with many houses, mainly Roman but some of Punic masonry and possibly dating to the sixth century B.C. In this area was the Roman theatre. At the base of the isthmus there are some Punic tombs along the shore and the Tophet; the earliest stelae may be of sixth century date but most appear to be late Punic in style. Nearby may be seen traces of a Roman aqueduct and the little Romanesque church of S. Efisio is still standing.

The site is generally accepted as that of the ancient Nora, one of the four principal Punic towns of Sardinia. Not only is this town known to have been near Cagliari, but a local inscription records a gift to the people of Nora made by Favonia Vera, and the dedication of the church recalls the tradition that S. Efisio was martyred at Nora.

The building with which this study is concerned occupies the eastern half of Region ii, 2, just inside the city gate at Ostia. Two specific statements have been made concerning it, that it commenced as magazzini or horrea in the republican era, and that it was converted into baths in the late third century A.D.; these were the suggestions of the excavators, and have never yet been questioned. They are points of considerable importance, because this building would thus be the only example of republican horrea yet discovered in Ostia, and the conversion of horrea into baths or shops, which the theory implies, would be important for the economic history of Ostia, whether the reason for the change was the concentration of horrea elsewhere or merely the decline of the city. The second statement, too, would point to building activity in Ostia at a time when no other big building was being put up. This paper is an attempt to prove that at no time was the building used as horrea, and that the conversion to baths is to be placed not in the third, but in the late first, or very early second century A.D. Five main periods will be distinguished, of which the appended table gives a summary.

Strabo called Mediolanum (Milan) an ἀξιόλογος πόλις and classed it above all other cities in the region of Cisalpine Gaul, with the exception of Patavium (Padua). Patavium in its prime, the Augustan period, could register five hundred equestrians in a census, a number equalled only by Gades (Cadiz) among cities in the West. The presence of so many equestrians indicates a substantial population-base. Cisalpine cities as a whole impressed Strabo as being larger and richer than those of the rest of Italy.

Thus, if Strabo is any guide, Mediolanum was already in his time (the beginning of the Principate), an important city, perhaps not far behind Patavium in size. Moreover, the fortunes of Mediolanum, unlike those of Patavium, were not on the wane. No contemporary of Augustus could have forecast that Mediolanum would be chosen as a seat of emperors in the fourth century. But seen in the light of the city's development in the early empire as an administrative, cultural and economic centre, this was a logical choice.

The article explores how, when and why Pirro Ligorio (c. 1513–83) chose to link a sanctuary dedicated to Minerva Medica, listed in the fourth-century ad Regionary Catalogues of the monuments of Rome as being on the Esquiline, with the late antique decagonal pavilion, near Termini, which had the second largest dome in Rome after the Pantheon. It establishes that the catalyst was the unearthing of several statues, including one of Minerva, in 1552. The fate of these finds is examined, as well as Ligorio's attempt to locate the mysterious Schola Medicorum on the same site.

Fragments of frescoes were found in the late nineteenth century on the medieval apse wall, hidden behind the fifteenth-century chancel, of the Dominican nunnery church of San Sisto Vecchio, Rome. They were painted in two phases, one in the late thirteenth or early fourteenth century, the other approximately a century later. When they were restored in 1990–2, two new scenes came to light. This paper reconsiders the murals of both phases, including the images uncovered during the restoration campaigns. Historical evidence shines new light on the medieval patrons of the nunnery, who were relatives of individual nuns, and reveals the social context in which buildings and paintings were provided for the convent. It is argued that the frescoes were designed for the Dominican nuns, whose religious ideals are reflected in their iconography. Up until now studies of these murals have not paid much attention to their socio-historical importance, nor the Dominican significance of the images, even in two scenes from the life of Saint Catherine of Siena. Accordingly, this study contributes to the discussion of the frescoes by placing them in a ‘Dominican’ framework, attempting to show what they may have meant to the medieval nuns in the convent.