In addition to the series of stucco reliefs recently acquired on loan from the Victoria and Albert Museum, to three stuccoed panels from the Hartwig collection, and to a few miscellaneous pieces, the British Museum's Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities possesses nine large and eight smaller fragments of stucco-relief work about whose acquisition almost nothing is recorded. Till recently, they were not entered in the Department's Register, and had no accession numbers: the only distinguishing marks were blue diamond-shaped tabs stuck to five of them, and the numbers 63 and 99 scratched on the backs of two. Blue diamonds occur on several ancient objects which formed part of the collection of Sir William Hamilton, so it is possible that the stuccoes once belonged to the same illustrious antiquary. Indeed, a British Museum catalogue of 1817 definitely ascribes one of them to the Hamilton collection, and also reveals, in conjunction with a manuscript of 1824, that the remaining pieces were kept in the so-called ‘Hamilton Room’, most of whose contents had formerly been owned by Sir William.

The number of Roman sarcophagi without explicit Christian iconography conventionally dated to the fourth century is not commensurate with any reasonable estimate of the number of well-to-do pagans. This article explores several possible explanations for the anomaly. One approach would be to attempt to correct the archaeological record by finding errors in the religious classification of monuments that exaggerate the Christian corpus, adding non-Christian sarcophagi that have escaped published inventories, or establishing a systematic misdating of pagan sarcophagi. Alternatively, the preserved monuments could be taken as an accurate reflection of original production, the shortfall implying some change in commemorative habits specific to non-Christians. The author concludes that neither of these theories is likely to reduce the pagan sarcophagus deficit substantially. Instead, the shortfall is ascribed mainly to differential rates of preservation. This hypothesis is consistent with certain medieval practices of reuse that suggest a higher probability of survival for antique sarcophagi bearing Christian imagery.

This paper brings together literary, epigraphic and iconographic evidence for the victimarii — the attendants responsible for slaughtering sacrificial animals in ancient Rome. It aims to explore the problematic status of victimarii in Roman society, and argues that the often hostile views of the aristocracy have led to the continued marginalisation of this prominent group within scholarly discussions of religion and society. It argues that when the various strands are considered together a far more positive view of victimarii within Roman society emerges, suggesting that this was in some respects one of the most respectable of professions among the slave and freedman communities.

Sin dai primi studi sul cantiere e sul processo costruttivo delle architetture antiche, esempi storicamente ben documentati di età medievale e moderna sono stati presi come riferimento e termine di paragone, al fine di comprendere più approfonditamente l'industria delle costruzioni nell'antica Roma. Questo contributo riflette circa la possibilità di utilizzare due casi di studio parzialmente simili per dimensioni, ubicazione e tecniche costruttive: la Basilica di San Pietro, di età rinascimentale e barocca, in comparazione con l'antico complesso di Domiziano, estensione dei Palazzi Flavi sul Palatino. I primi risultati, che si iscrivono in un progetto di studio sul Complesso domizianeo, aggiungono nuovi elementi alla ricostruzione teorica del cantiere e del ciclo costruttivo. Si analizzano diversi aspetti di questi due progetti architettonici di grandi dimensioni (XXL structures) – la committenza, la forza lavoro, l'approvvigionamento dei materiali da costruzione, l'allestimento del cantiere – evidenziando analogie e differenze, nel tentativo di ovviare alle lacune nella documentazione antica.

Rome's man-made mounds occupy a position between built antiquities and natural features. In the Middle Ages and early modern period, particular attention was paid to Monte Testaccio, the Mausoleum of Augustus, and the related ‘mons omnis terra’. Debate focused on the origins and composition of the mounds, thought to contain either earth brought to Rome as symbolic tribute, pottery used to hold monetary tribute, or pottery produced locally. Developing over time in different genres of writing on the city, these interpretations were also employed in works on historical, religious and geological themes. The importation of material, expressive of relations between Rome and the wider world in antiquity, was used to draw positive and negative comparisons with present-day rulers and the papacy, and to associate Rome with Babylon. The growth of the mounds and the presence of ceramics were invoked in discussions of the formation of mountains and montane fossils. If the mounds' ambiguities facilitated their incorporation into other debates, the terms in which they are discussed reflect ongoing engagement with literature on the city. The reception of these monuments thus offers a distinctive perspective on the significance of Rome to connections between spheres of knowledge in this period.

The practice of depicting the life of a locally celebrated saint within a typological scheme of decoration is of great antiquity. The old basilicas of S. Peter and S. Paul at Rome and other influential churches like Desiderius' Monte Cassino have been destroyed and their decoration with them, but derivative schemes may still be studied at S. Piero a Grado, at S. Angelo in Formis, or in the frescoes and tapestries of the Sistine Chapel.

A variation of the Petrine-Pauline schemes can be seen at Florence where the patron of the city and of the church is celebrated in the mosaics of the dome of the Baptistery. Here four cycles are arranged in parallel—a Creation series, the story of Joseph, the life of Christ, and the life of the Baptist himself. Similarly the windows and walls of the basilica at Assisi show how the story of S. Francis is related to the familiar scenes from the Old and New Testaments; these Biblical scenes are arranged in the traditional Roman manner. Assisi has problems of its own too complex and controversial to attempt in this article but indications for such a study may be outlined by reference to Anagni. As at the Collegiata at San Gimignano and in so many other examples, typological thought is basic to the interpretation of the scheme as a whole.

Il presente testo nasce da alcune considerazioni compiute nel corso della totale revisione dell'opera edita e manoscritta di Antonio Bosio e si focalizza, in senso più ampio, sul fenomeno della nascita dell'archeologia cristiana nel corso del XVI secolo. Partendo da alcuni spunti storici offerti appunto dall'opera di Bosio, vengono presentate alcune vicende relative al cantiere della basilica di San Pietro durante la seconda metà del Cinquecento, testimoniate soprattutto da Tiberio Alfarano. L'obiettivo è quello di riconsiderare il ruolo degli scavi e dei lavori architettonici della Basilica Vaticana nella nascita dell'archeologia cristiana, qualche anno prima dell'accidentale scoperta della catacomba anonima di via Anapo, evento ad oggi considerato l'inizio della disciplina.

Como ho già detto (p. xii), Ferdinando Castagnoli ha lasciato interrotti ma bene avviati i lavori di revisione e aggiornamento della nuova edizione della Forma Urbis di Lanciani in scala 1:1000. Al fine di mantenere vivo l'interesse per la realizzazione di quest'opera approfitto dell'ospitalità dei Papers per pubblicare una mia revisione delle mura di Aureliano tra la Porta Flaminia e il Tevere preparata a tale scopo (Fig. 1).

La porzione delle mura di Aureliano compresa tra l'attuale via Ferdinando di Savoia in prossimità dell'imbocco di ponte Margherita e la porta Flaminia è rappresentata in pianta nella tavola I della FUR di Lanciani (edita nel 1893?) Il colore nero indica le parti ancora esistenti al tempo di Lanciani, oppure quelle che egli potè vedere fugacemente in occasione di scavi. Il nero è usato anche per un monumento non più visibile ma per il quale egli aveva raggiunto una sua convinzione di certezza: si tratta del ‘sepulcrum’ coincidente con la terza torre ad occidente di Porta Flaminia. Il colore grigio (ottenuto grafıcamente con linee parallele accostate) indica le parti non più visibili che Lanciani ricostrui tenendo presente piante dal XVI al XVIII secolo (de' Rocchi, Bufalini, Nolli).

The position of the Sublician Bridge and its relation to the Island of the Tiber are vexed questions in Roman topography. The discussion which follows is the result of a re-examination of the existing evidence during a short period of topographical study at Rome.

The Traditions of the Regal Period

According to the narrative of Livy, the Pons Sublicius, the first bridge across the river, was built by Ancus Marcius, and its raison d'être was to establish communication with the Janiculum, which (if Livy's words are taken at their face value) was also included within the city-walls, although this is before the time of the Servian Wall.

This article reassesses artistic production in Rome at the time of the temporary return of Pope Urban V, between 1367 and 1370, after a lengthy period of absence of the papacy in Avignon, and offers new insights into the long-term impact of this production. It does so by starting from a thoroughly neglected artwork now in the Museo Storico Artistico del Tesoro di S. Pietro, a victim of the traditional interpretative dichotomy as either a work by Giotto or not. By taking a different methodological approach, which is to think in terms of movement of patrons and artists, and on the basis of combined technical/visual analysis and documentary sources, the article sheds new light on this painting, offering new proposals concerning its dating, attribution, original location and function. It then addresses its historical contextualization and significance, allowing us to rethink art in Rome in the fourteenth century by discussing the role that the circulation of patrons and artists played in creating new forms. This discussion not only contributes to a better understanding of the art produced in Rome in the Trecento but also throws some light on the very origins and nature of Renaissance art.

The endeavours of Manuel I Comnenus (1143–1180) to obtain a papal coronation from Alexander III in the years 1167–1168, and to have himself recognised as Emperor in the West in place of the schismatic and simoniac Frederick Barbarossa, together with his offers in return to subject the Byzantine Church to the authority of the pope, make up one of the most curious episodes in twelfth-century diplomatic history. The story, as told by Cardinal Boso in his life of Alexander, is well known, and has been discussed by a number of historians. Boso relates that on two occasions Manuel sent an ambassador to the pope declaring his wish to unite the Greek Church (ecclesiam suam graecam) to that of Rome and proposing to do so, asking in return that the ‘crown of the Roman empire’ (Romani corona imperii) should be restored to him by the papacy, since Frederick (crowned in 1155) had so clearly shown himself to be unworthy of it. The first ambassador, identified as the sebastus Jordan, son of Robert of Capua, went to Alexander at Rome; on the second occasion the pope was at Benevento and the unnamed apocrisiarius conferred with him there. Manuel offered a great quantity of men and money, sufficient, his emissaries said, to reduce all Italy to the papal obedience, if his proposals were accepted; on both occasions, however, Alexander and his advisers, having considered the matter carefully, came to the conclusion that the emperor's plan was too doubtful and dangerous. Though cardinals were sent to Constantinople for further discussions, nothing came of it.

The church of San Salvatore, on the outskirts of Spoleto, is a monument as familiar as it is puzzling. Together with the closely related Clitumnus temple, 10 km. distant between Spoleto and Trevi, it has been the subject of at least one monograph and of numerous articles, and it figures in all the standard works on late antique and early medieval art in Italy. It first appears in history in a document of 815, confirming to the abbey of Farfa certain possessions, including monasterium sancti Salvatoris situm prope eandem civitatem (i.e. Spoleto). The majority of writers have regarded both it and the Clitumnus Temple as the product of a late antique, classicising revival, and have assigned them to dates ranging from the late fourth to the sixth centuries. Recently Deichmann has advanced the novel, but attractive, suggestion that they belong rather to the latter part of the eighth century, and are the work of the Dukes of Spoleto, produced under Carolingian domination and under strong Carolingian artistic influence.