Roman Veii and the archaeology of ‘failure’

The ancient settlement of Veii in the Tiber Valley of Central Italy, about 17km north of Rome, has long been praised as the largest (approx. 190ha) and wealthiest Etruscan city-state (peak between c. sixth century and 396 BC), and as a once-thriving ancient Mediterranean centre (Figure 1) (Tabolli & Cerasuolo Reference Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019). Its subsequent transformation into a smaller (approximately 20ha), less monumental and economically secondary Roman settlement has traditionally been described as decline.

Figure 1.

The location of ancient Veii in the Tiber Valley, Central Italy (map by author).

Following his influential topographical survey of the settlement, John Ward-Perkins (Reference Ward-Perkins1961: 57) dismissed Roman Veii as “never having achieved sufficient importance to leave any mark upon the larger historical scene”. Later scholarship confirmed this view: Fontana and Patterson (Reference Fontana, Patterson and Cascino2012: 367) noted that Roman investments “did not halt the decline of the centre”, while Patterson (Reference Patterson and Patterson2020: 233) characterised the site as “a clear example of a failed town”, experiencing “a gradual decline from the period of the Roman conquest in 396 BC”. Despite acknowledgement of a minor revival in the first century AD, the consensus holds that “the Municipium Augustum Veiens did not reach the same level of importance as the city of Etruscan times and was limited in both space and time” (Tabolli & Cerasuolo Reference Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019: 217).

This perception of Veii’s Roman failure is largely influenced by uneven archaeological preservation and documentation, and by comparisons with its Etruscan heyday. Looting from the fourteenth to nineteenth centuries stripped the site of material remains (Delpino Reference Delpino, Mandolesi and Naso1999: 73), and early excavations, including those of 1811–1813, documented Roman structures only superficially (Lanciani Reference Lanciani1889; Pallottino Reference Pallottino1938; Liverani Reference Liverani1987: 15–16). In contrast, Etruscan phases benefitted from better preservation and, from the mid-nineteenth century onward, more systematic study first by antiquarians and topographers and later under the co-ordination of the archaeological superintendency (Delpino Reference Delpino, Mandolesi and Naso1999; Boitani & van Kampen Reference Boitani and van Kampen2012: 555–58).

Since the mid- and late twentieth century, major projects by the British School at Rome and especially La Sapienza University of Rome have aimed to correct this imbalance through targeted excavations (Sgubini Moretti Reference Sgubini Moretti2001; Cascino et al. Reference Cascino2015; D’Alessio Reference D’Alessio and Cascino2015; Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019) and non-invasive approaches, including artefact survey (Ward-Perkins Reference Ward-Perkins1961; Cascino et al. Reference Cascino2012) and aerial photography (Figure 2) (Guaitoli Reference Guaitoli2016; Materazzi et al. Reference Materazzi2024), complemented by geophysical prospection by the University of Siena (Campana Reference Campana, Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019). Yet a comprehensive synthesis of Roman Veii—including a consolidated map of the available data—remains absent, and the Etruscan city still dominates the research agenda (Tabolli & Cerasuolo Reference Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019).

Figure 2.

Google Earth image of Veii as a greenfield site (Google Earth Image).

While this article cannot close that gap, it offers a fresh perspective on the Roman city. Studies of Veii’s history consistently frame its Roman phase (396 BC to c. fourth century AD) in negative terms: a once-great Etruscan superpower diminished to a secondary town with a smaller footprint, reduced economic influence and partial agricultural conversion (Patterson & Rendelli Reference Patterson, Rendelli and Cascino2012: 381–87; Witcher Reference Witcher and Patterson2020: 141–44). These assessments recall memories of Etruscan success, evoking the past as a benchmark against which later developments are judged. More broadly, Veii exemplifies a widespread archaeological tendency to reconstruct urban histories as linear trajectories of success or failure. Such evaluations deserve more critical dialogue, as they often reflect modern assumptions about urban ‘success’ rather than ancient priorities.

A recent critique in this journal (Samuels et al. Reference Samuels2022) challenges this binary model of ancient urbanism, arguing that it reinforces outdated notions of linear, civilisational progress that equate urban success with growth and failure with contraction. The authors’ study of ancient Gabii recentres attention on the community, showing how local investments allowed continuous adaptation to regional change—outcomes that, whether modest or substantial, do not fit simplistic success/failure narratives. Similar critiques, favouring transformation and adaptation over decline, extend far beyond the ancient Mediterranean and are found, for example, in studies of late medieval urbanism in England (Jervis Reference Jervis2017). Such perspectives encourage us to look for alternative ways of studying cities, prioritising the lived experiences of communities rather than abstract models and modern expectations.

Roman Veii illustrates how modern models inform scholarly discourse. Its perceived failure—based on measures such as contraction and faltering economy from the Etruscan to the Roman period—aligns with a growth-centric worldview prevalent in contemporary Western societies, where urban prosperity is tied to rising population numbers, expanding settlement size and economic productivity (Wong Reference Wong2015). This paradigm increasingly influences ancient urban studies, where settlements are often judged by quantifiable metrics. Michael Smith (Reference Smith2023), for example, proposed measuring the success of ancient settlements through persistence, population and prosperity.

This reliance on numerical indicators raises important questions. What do these metrics actually tell us about the experiences of past communities? Did residents of Roman Veii perceive their smaller, less economically prominent town as a failure, haunted by memories of its Etruscan past? Or is this largely a modern projection—an ‘archaeology of failure’ driven by Western ideals of expansion and productivity?

I argue that the current framework distorts ancient realities of Roman Veii. Epigraphic and archaeological evidence, though reflecting activity on a much smaller scale, signal ongoing civic engagement. From a community-resilience approach, these traces could represent adaptive strategies. Drawing on interdisciplinary models, this article explores how Veii’s inhabitants mobilised cultural, natural and social resources to respond to political and economic change. By emphasising these initiatives, we gain a nuanced, community-centred understanding of ancient urban life—one that highlights how landscapes were experienced, maintained and redefined by those who lived within them.

Veii’s urban transformation: between Roman texts and archaeology

Roman historical sources present the conquest of Etruscan Veii in 396 BC as a decisive rupture in the city’s development. Modern research cautions against taking these heavily mythologised accounts at face value, contending that they romanticise Roman power while obscuring the agency of Italian communities (Scopacasa Reference Scopacasa and Cooley2014: 35–35; Terrenato Reference Terrenato2019: 112–18). While we should be careful not to dismiss the violence described by Roman historians—Livy recounts the city’s sack and the enslavement of its people (5.22.1; Colivicchi Reference Colivicchi, Colivicchi and McCallum2024)—archaeology shows that Veii was neither destroyed nor fully abandoned but remained inhabited for centuries.

Although economic and demographic contraction is undeniably clear—particularly from the later Republic (c. 250–50 BC) onward, evidenced by reduced pottery production and the clustering of occupation along main roads (Di Giuseppe Reference Di Giuseppe and Cascino2012: 363–65; Patterson & Rendelli Reference Patterson, Rendelli and Cascino2012: 381)—the available evidence, though fragmentary, also shows developments that complicate a post-conquest history of straightforward decline.

Following Roman annexation, Veii’s community life persisted, with local urban practices restored and/or adapted. This is most obvious in the site’s cults and craftmanship: many sacred places and workshops, central to ritual votive and tableware production, experienced renewed activity (Michetti Reference Michetti2021; Colivicchi Reference Colivicchi, Colivicchi and McCallum2024). At the city’s sanctuaries of North Campetti and Portonaccio, two third-century BC jugs, dedicated to the goddesses Ceres and Menerva (Minerva) by L(ucios) Tolonios, descendant of the Etruscan Tulumnes family, attest to sustained elite ritual traditions (Torelli Reference Torelli1999: 24; Briquel Reference Briquel, Gleba and Becker2008: 62–63; Michetti Reference Michetti2021: 28). At Macchiagrande, active from the late fourth to second centuries BC, altars with both Etruscan and Latin inscriptions honouring indigenous and new Latin/Roman cults reveal a culturally diverse group that mixed old cults with new beliefs (Torelli Reference Torelli1999: 24–29; Michetti Reference Michetti2021: 41; Maras & Nonnis Reference Maras and Nonnis2022: 161–65). Ancient texts corroborate this demographic mix, citing land allotments to Roman, Veientine and other Italic families (Livy 5.308; 6.4.4; Acconcia Reference Acconia and Cascino2015).

Domestic architecture also demonstrates adaptation. The archaeological record documents modest farmsteads with associated vineyards (late fourth–early third centuries BC; Acconcia Reference Acconia and Cascino2015: 11–15), dwellings with stables (Cella & Jaia Reference Cella, Jaia, Heynen and Gosseye2012: 348) and large villas built in the second century BC and remodelled throughout the Imperial period (first to c. third/fourth century AD) (Figure 3; Lanciani Reference Lanciani1889; Ambrosini & Belelli Marchesini Reference Ambrosini, Belelli Marchesini, Bentz and Reusser2010: 207–16; D’Alessio Reference D’Alessio and Cascino2015: 28–32). In addition to these domestic developments, the urban plateau experienced increased agricultural-productive activity, including grape cultivation, indicated by vineyard trenches identified through excavation (Acconcia Reference Acconia and Cascino2015) and magnetometer survey (Campana Reference Campana, Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019). Although this ruralisation could indicate a shift in resource use and settlement strategy, it has traditionally been interpreted as decline—a reading strongly influenced by Roman literature, which depicts the city as a ruined, pastoral and trivial place (Di Giuseppe Reference Di Giuseppe and Cascino2012: 366).

Figure 3.

Archaeological evidence of habitation across Veii: 1) farm building at Piazza d’Armi; 2) dwellings with stables; 3) domus at Comunità; 4) domus at Macchiagrande (map by author with partial survey data from Campana Reference Campana, Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019; Materazzi et al. Reference Materazzi2024).

The Latin poet Propertius, writing in the late first century BC, evokes a once-powerful city reduced to farmland: “Alas for ancient Veii! Then, you too were a kingdom, and in your forum was set a golden seat: now within your walls the lazy herdsman’s heifer lows, and they reap harvests among your bones” (Elegiae 4.10.27–30; Farrell Reference Farrell, Pieper and Ker2014). Horace (Satires 2.3.143; Kraus Reference Kraus, Closs and Keitel2020) and Persius (Satires 5.146; Kraus Reference Kraus, Closs and Keitel2020) mock Veii for its cheap, poor-quality wine, while the early-second-century AD historian Florus mourns its lost Etruscan glory in words that underscore its Roman-period irrelevance: “This is what Veii was then; now who remembers that it existed? What is left of it? What trace? It tests our faith in history to believe that it ever was” (1.6.11; Farrell Reference Farrell, Pieper and Ker2014).

Although recognised as literary tropes intended to emphasise Rome’s military triumph (Farrell Reference Farrell, Pieper and Ker2014; Kraus Reference Kraus, Closs and Keitel2020), this ancient discourse of failure continues to loom large in modern studies, where it feeds narratives of decline and loss (e.g. Fontana & Patterson Reference Fontana, Patterson and Cascino2012: 366; Tabolli & Cerasuolo Reference Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019: 228; Di Giuseppe Reference Di Giuseppe and Patterson2020: 100). Even later urban developments—from new street works to the construction of bath complexes, a theatre and guild clubhouse (schola)—built between the Augustan veteran settlement in the first century AD and the third century AD, have been dismissed as ultimately unsuccessful (Tabolli & Cerasuolo Reference Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019: 227). In this view, Veii is little more than a place of memory, or lieu de mémoire (Nora Reference Nora1984), an artificial city lacking urban identity (Marazzi Reference Marazzi2001: 725–26). The real issue, however, is not the absence of urban life but the nature of its reorganisation: modest in scale and investment, focused on local needs and maintained through practices that were meaningful at the community level. But even limited ongoing investment shows that the community still envisioned a future for Veii—one in which growth mattered little to that future (on the link between investment and the future, see Van Oyen Reference Van Oyen2023).

From a modern, economic, growth-focused perspective, such transformations may seem like failure; but viewed through the experiences of the ancient population—whose concerns and priorities differed greatly from modern Western values—they may be better understood as expressions of resilience.

Community resilience: rethinking the narrative at Veii

An alternative reading of Veii’s archaeology can be developed through the conceptual framework of community resilience, which redirects focus from decline to adaptation. Following Berkes and Ross (Reference Berkes and Ross2013), this approach combines two intellectual traditions: one rooted in ecology, the other in psychology and community development. The latter introduces social science—such as the concepts of social capital and sense of place—often missing from ecological models, foregrounding the agency of communities in responding to disturbances (Berkes & Ross Reference Berkes and Ross2013: 17).

At the heart of this process lie community capacities, built through the mobilisation of place-based resources. Magis (Reference Magis2010: 402) defines community resilience as “the existence, development, and engagement of community resources by community members to thrive in an environment characterized by change, uncertainty, unpredictability, and surprise”. Similarly, Norris and colleagues (Reference Norris2008: 128–30) and Berkes and Ross (Reference Berkes and Ross2013: 6–7, 10–11) stress that resilience is not a fixed outcome but an ongoing adaptive process, dependant both on the availability of resources and on how these interact dynamically in response to changing circumstances. While theorists classify resources differently, they converge on the interaction of several key types critical to resilience: shared cultural values and beliefs, social networks and support, people-place connections, and the role of the natural environment (Norris et al. Reference Norris2008: 137–39; Magis Reference Magis2010: 405–407; Berkes & Ross Reference Berkes and Ross2013: 12–14).

Although the notion of resilience is a modern, etic construct (Rüpke Reference Rüpke2020: 22), the practices it captures—place-based resource management, social co-operation and collective adaptation—are historically and culturally universal (Norris et al. Reference Norris2008: 145). Framed this way, community resilience is a useful analytical lens for ancient societies and has increasingly been applied to diverse historical contexts, including Ancient Egypt (Mourad Reference Mourad2023), the Maya (Mixter Reference Mixter2020) and the Late Antique East (Lewit Reference Lewit2020), where it offers an emic perspective on how communities responded to sociopolitical, economic and environmental change.

At Veii, the most significant changes followed the aftermath of political conquest and its long-term consequences: urban contraction, land-use reorganisation and the loss of regional economic and political prominence. With these changes adaptation emerged, as communal practices and beliefs, access to natural resources and diverse social associations enabled new forms of urban life.

Resources in practice

Cultural resources: ritual practices

Cultural resources include communal values, beliefs and traditions, often expressed through ritual practices (Magis Reference Magis2010: 406). In resilience theory, these are central because they give people shared purpose and cohesion, guiding collective adaptation. Berkes and Ross (Reference Berkes and Ross2013: 6) underscore that cultural identity nurtures social bonds, contributing to collaboration in the face of change, while Norris and colleagues (Reference Norris2008: 139) stress that religious participation builds solidarity and a sense of belonging.

At Veii, cultural resources are most visible in sanctuaries and ritual deposits, including altars, deity statues and terracotta votives. Many cult places, such as the open-air sanctuaries at Campetti South-West and the Caere Gate (Figure 4, nos. 5 & 8), originated in the seventh and sixth centuries BC and already display the ritual significance of water. Artefact surveys (Ward-Perkins Reference Ward-Perkins1961: 55; Di Giuseppe Reference Di Giuseppe and Cascino2012: 359–62) and excavations (Bartoloni & Benedettini Reference Bartoloni and Benedettini2011; Fusco Reference Fusco and Cascino2015; Michetti Reference Michetti2021) have exposed their restoration and reuse, including at Campetti and Comunità (Figure 4, nos. 2 & 10). At Comunità, the Stipe Lanciani deposit yielded figurines, animal statuettes, anatomical votives and pottery. While some offerings date from as early as the sixth century BC, activity peaked between the late fourth and second centuries BC, indicating the transformation of a cult to a female deity, possibly Uni/Juno, into an Etrusco-Roman form (Bartoloni & Benedettini Reference Bartoloni and Benedettini2011; Edlund-Berry Reference Edlund-Berry, Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019: 129).

Figure 4.

Map showing the location of Veii’s urban sanctuaries and (healing) bath complexes: 1) Portonaccio; 2) Stipe Lanciani; 3) Piazza d’Armi; 4) Piano di Comunità; 5) Campetti South-West; 6) outside Formello Gate; 7) Capena Gate (Macchiagrande sanctuary); 8) Caere Gate; 9) Campetti, Central Area; 10) west of Formello Gate; 11) Vignacce Postern (map by author, with data from Campana Reference Campana, Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019; Edlund-Berry Reference Edlund-Berry, Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019: 128, fig. 14.1; Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019; Materazzi et al. Reference Materazzi2024).

After the Roman conquest, Etruscan cult places were among the first urban areas revisited (Michetti Reference Michetti2021: 28), suggesting that moments of transition and uncertainty prompted renewed engagement with ritual practices. This was not only a matter of belief but also a form of civic involvement (Norris et al. Reference Norris2008: 139), with sanctuary gatherings empowering community connections and likely also facilitating interaction between the old population and new Roman and Italic families, as suggested by Latin inscriptions and the introduction of Roman/Latin cults (Michetti Reference Michetti2021: 29, 38–39: Colivicchi Reference Colivicchi, Colivicchi and McCallum2024: 54).

The prominence of anatomical votives—offered as requests for healing or thanks for recovery—together with statues of female divinities associated with healing, underline the importance of purification and healing rituals at several sites (Di Giuseppe Reference Di Giuseppe and Cascino2012: 363; Edlund-Berry Reference Edlund-Berry, Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019: 133). A case in point is the Campetti South-West sanctuary (Figure 4, no. 5). Excavations by La Sapienza University of Rome between 1996 and 2009 traced its development from an Etruscan open-air cult place into a monumental thermal and religious complex (Fusco Reference Fusco and Cascino2015). Early hydraulic features—wells, cisterns and channels—together with fragments of a Hercules statue, a deity with healing powers, imply its function as a water sanctuary (Fusco Reference Fusco and Cascino2015: 41–42). From the late second century BC, and especially between the late first century BC and the first century AD, the sanctuary expanded with pools, reservoirs, cisterns and a nymphaeum (Figure 5; Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019: 23–26). In the later Imperial period (second–third centuries AD), this complex at Campetti South-West contracted: some cold-water facilities were abandoned, while new rooms for heated bathing were added (Fusco Reference Fusco and Cascino2015: 41–45; Reference Fusco and Bassani2019: 23–26). Second-century dedications to Hygieia and possibly Aesculapius, to Diana, and to Hercules and the Fontes—all deities associated with water and health—indicate the site’s continuing association with those concerns (Fusco Reference Fusco2008/2009, Reference Fusco and Cascino2015: 45).

Figure 5.

Hypothetical plan Campetti South-West sacred complex from the early Imperial period (map by author with partial survey data from Campana Reference Campana, Tabolli and Cerasuolo2019, building after Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019: 25, fig. 5 by F. Soriano).

Caius Sulpicius Liscus, a Sequanus from Gaul who may have migrated to Central Italy, thanks Hercules and the springs at Veii for curing him of malarial fever—an illness commonly treated with thermal water therapies (Fusco Reference Fusco2008/2009: 451–71). While this case potentially shows the reach of Veii’s sanctuary beyond the local population (Fusco Reference Fusco2008/2009: 474), the broader body of dedications demonstrates ongoing community participation in healing rituals (Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019). Taken together, this evidence suggests that Veii’s population may have repurposed their urban landscape by intertwining long-standing ritual traditions with local natural resources, particularly its mineral springs.

Natural resources: the role of water

Bordered by the valleys of the Fosso Piordo and Valchetta (Cremera) (Figure 4), Veii’s steep plateau was rich in natural springs, praised in antiquity for their quality (Dionysius of Halicarnassus 12.15.21; Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019). Access to water constituted a prime environmental advantage, which the community exploited by investing in thermal buildings from the later Republican period onwards (Di Giuseppe Reference Di Giuseppe and Cascino2012: 362–63). Beyond the well-documented Campetti South-West complex, at least three additional bathing installations existed on the plateau: one near the central square or forum (D’Alessio Reference D’Alessio and Cascino2015: 32) and another at Vignacce along the Fosso Piordo, where a circular basin recorded in the nineteenth century was likely connected to a mineral spring at the valley’s base (Ward-Perkins Reference Ward-Perkins1961: 71; Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019: 26).

The third, and most conclusive, example of evidence comes from the Bagni della Regina, a bath complex constructed over thermal springs in the Valchetta gorge (Figure 6). Artefacts from rock-cut pits—including an axe and a fibula—attest to ritual activity between the eighth and sixth centuries BC, indicating that the site was frequented long before the baths were constructed (Jones Reference Jones1960: 65–66).

Figure 6.

Plan of Veii’s Bagni della Regina bath complex (after Jones Reference Jones1960: 58, fig. 2) with structural elements dating to the complex’s first phase indicated in red (map by author, after Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019: 32, fig. 11c).

The architectural sequence of the Bagni della Regina is particularly significant. Early studies dated the first phase, with opus reticulatum structures built into the tufa bedrock across two levels, to the early first century AD. On the lower level, channels circulated hot spring water into basins, while the upper level included a boundary wall along the river and remnants of stairways (Jones Reference Jones1960: 69). This chronology was taken to imply an Imperial project initiated after the creation of the Augustan settlement (after 27 BC). However, recent reassessment (Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019) has challenged this interpretation. Masonry comparisons with the Campetti South-West complex indicate that the core structures—later expanded in the second and third centuries AD—may instead date to the first half or middle of the first century BC, pre-dating the Augustan municipium (Fusco Reference Fusco and Bassani2019: 27–33).

This reinterpretation has implications for understanding resilience: it shows that Veii’s late Republican revival was not solely the result of top-down investment but also of local efforts. By mobilising the plateau’s springs and healing rituals, Veii’s community created therapeutic and social spaces. Here, water was not only an economic or therapeutic asset but a crucial point of resilience—anchoring people to place and allowing adaption. As Berkes and Ross (Reference Berkes and Ross2013: 12–13) observe, empirical studies underline the importance of the natural environment in offering opportunities or constraints for resilience.