This volume launches a new series of books presenting research on the archaeology of Tuscany, some of which was presented at the first Archaeological and Historical Landscapes of Mediterranean Central Italy conference (MediTo) in 2018. The series aims to be a forum for fresh perspectives and dynamic new approaches to the Roman and late antique archaeology of the region. This initial volume features a collection of papers on aspects of the Etruscan, Roman and late antique landscapes of Tuscany.

The volume opens with an introduction by the editors outlining the scope of the volume and introducing the various contributions. The first of these is Franco Cambi's chapter that considers the nature and potential of landscape archaeology, and calls for a plurality and diversification of this sub-discipline, so that readings of landscapes do not become disrupted by artificial boundaries between specialisms. Considering studies of city and countryside, and more particularly the related phenomenon of Romanisation, Cambi looks at ways that Romanisation has been viewed in terms of binary opposites—cultivated versus wild, civilised versus barbaric—and how post-colonial perspectives have reconsidered the impact of Roman expansion. Cambi's view of Romanisation is as a “profound, traumatic, and irreversible turning point” (p. 32).

Next, Elizabeth Fentress's chapter considers the contrast between a sharp decline in population in Etruria in the second century BC, particularly in the Tuscan Maremma, and the continued trade and connectivity of small ports and post stations in the same region. Fentress argues that, rather than view continuation of manufacture and trade in some of the small ports as a ‘passive continuity’, we should instead understand them as continually managed ventures, with investment intended to generate financial reward for powerful owners.

As well as allowing reading of the agricultural and economic pasts in the landscape, archaeological remains can also illuminate otherwise ‘invisible’ activities, such as piracy—as discussed by Carolina Megale (Chapter 10), who considers how the fortifications at Poggio del Molino, near Populonia, might reflect attempts to protect against pirates. Megale believes that coastal defence must have played a role in deterring piracy, but argues that only holistic approaches that consider the archaeology alongside text-based evidence can reveal the dynamics of illegal and illicit economic activity, such as piracy.

Commentaries supporting a stark dichotomy between city and countryside are challenged by Astrid van Oyen, Gijs W. Tol and Rhodora G. Vennarucci in their chapter that considers a nucleated rural centre at Podere Marzuolo, which the authors view as the ‘missing link’ in settlement hierarchies. Sites such as this, it is argued, fulfilled specific functions in local settlement hierarchies and economies that varied from place to place. In the case of Marzuolo, for example, the nucleated settlement is believed to reflect private investment, perhaps by local landowners, to establish an artisanal centre that served the local landscape and housed a small community of craftspeople.

Archaeological landscapes of Roman Etruria is a volume with broad appeal that, in the editors’ own words, offers the chance to “glimpse a fragmented rural landscape which embraced its local peculiarities even as it remained engaged with an increasingly globalized world” (p. 20). In particular, all 18 chapters speak to the central theme of how historical landscapes can be viewed as containers, or canvases, for emergent political, economic and social contexts—a theme also deftly highlighted by our next volume.

The influence of Gaius Julius Caesar in the ancient world has been—to say the least—well studied. This volume, however, finds an important new lens through which to explore the ways in which Caesar manipulated the landscape of Rome and refashioned the fabric of the city to present his own familial heritage and political legitimacy. The 16 chapters are divided into three sections: Caesar and his time; Caesar in antique historiography—in retrospect; and post-antique historiography and modern perceptions. In turn, these explore how Caesar used the past to construct his own persona and embed it in the cityscape, how Caesar has been commemorated and used by posterity, and the ways in which his self-fashioned identity politics have been received and understood from his death to the present day. The volume is based on a 2019 conference of the same name and is set within the context of recent excavations at the Forum Iulium undertaken by a Danish-Italian team, and the Our Caesar project, which explores Danish receptions of Caesar from the Middle Ages to modern times.

It is the contributions in the first section of the volume that resonate with our landscape theme, and hence the ones we focus on here, but readers will find much value in the second and third parts of the volume, which offer insights into the historiography of perceptions of Caesar both in the past and in the contemporary world. The concluding chapter of the volume, by Nikoline Sauer, brings the focus back to the archaeology, with a summary of the excavations of the Forum of Caesar.

Sine Grove Saxkjær (Chapter 2) takes us back to the early history of Rome, considering the importance—and the fluidity—of narratives of the early kings during the late Republic, a time in which family histories were refashioned to deepen connections with Rome's foundation myths. Following this, Paolo Liverani (Chapter 3) investigates the transformation of the city as part of Caesar's urban vision, which included a new basilica in the forum named for his family (the Basilica Iulia), the acquisition of the land that would become the site of the Forum Iulium, the renovation of the Campus Martius, and, perhaps most ambitiously, the diversion of the river Tiber to create space for more building. Of all Caesar's developments, the expansion of the pomerium (the sacred and legal boundary of the city) was perhaps the most politically contentious. Liverani suggests that Caesar's reimagining of Rome may have had a socio-political purpose, to link himself with the populace through the landscape and topography of the city, and to bury the memory of the old Republic. The lex de Urbe augenda (a law permitting the extension of the city) “implied that Caesar was the auctor of the city and thus, technically speaking, the Augustus” (p. 33).

Karl Galinsky (Chapter 4) considers how Caesar's adopted son Octavian—later the emperor Augustus—used monumentality and topography to cement his connection with Caesar, in what Galinsky describes as “the evolving and selective assimilation of Julius Caesar and Augustus” (p. 39). In Chapter 5, Rubina Raja and Jörg Rüpke discuss architectural acts of memorialisation in the Forum Iulium, demonstrating how the forum was, above all, a site of memory. In reality, the Forum Iulium replaced, rather than expanded on, the Forum Romanum, and was a place where Caesar used statues of himself to parallel directly imagery of Alexander the Great. It was a place that continued to be used to memorialise Caesar and his family long after his assassination.

This insightful volume highlights the impact of Caesar both in his own lifetime and among the subsequent generations who have received, remembered and reimagined him in myriad ways. In particular, the contributors show that Caesar's refashioning of the heart of Rome offers a lucid case study of how landscape, topography and architecture can be manipulated to reflect power, to inspire civic support and to memorialise individuals.

Across much of Europe, the increasing prevalence of large-scale developer-led archaeology is leading to results which do not simply focus on ‘sites’ but provide overviews of entire landscapes. Our next four volumes present a sample of such landscape studies, highlighting different regions of Britain and Ireland, and the changing use of landscapes over several millennia.

Steve Roskams and Cath Neal present the results of a long-term fieldwork project in the vicinity of York, UK. The Heslington East project was necessitated by an expansion of the University of York on the edge of the historic town, extending into a greenbelt area. The excavations took place over a six-year period in the 2000s and represent the combined work of commercial units, a student field school and a community project.

The volume opens with a chapter explaining the archaeological evaluation process—generally, as well as that specific to the Heslington project—the methods of data gathering and the post-excavation analysis. The chapter serves as an excellent introduction for both specialist and lay readers. This is followed by consideration of the landscape resources (water, wood and stone) and the geological setting and formation processes. This sheds light on some of the features revealed by non-invasive prospection, such as the two ‘kettle holes’—naturally formed glacial depressions that fill with sediment over time. While these were not found to be in close association with any anthropogenic activity, they would have held water that could support a local ecosystem. Palaeochannels running across the area were also investigated and found to contain animal bone (possibly intentionally deposited). Iron Age field systems overlie the palaeochannels, with the landscape organisation remaining in use and seemingly unchanged into the Roman period—a pattern commonly seen at the Iron Age–Roman transition elsewhere. A substantial change in the late second century AD was brought about by natural processes, evident as erosion channels and hill wash. A significant investment of time and labour in this landscape is revealed by the presence of numerous wells. Seven of these are detailed in the volume, ranging in date from Early Bronze Age alder-lined pits, through Iron Age–Early Roman wattle-, cobble- and stone-lined wells, to a Late Roman masonry-built well.

Chapter 3 investigates the landscape modifications that delineated movement, enclosed certain areas and bounded the landscape. Unsurprisingly, the area is shaped by access to water and the delineation of the landscape, with boundaries marked by ditches, also reflects the importance of the wells and control of access to them. The following two chapters consider the evidence for production in the landscape, focusing on animal husbandry (4) and agriculture and specialist craft manufacture (5), respectively. Use of the landscape as a dwelling place is demonstrated in Chapter 6, which presents the evidence for around 16 Iron Age roundhouses and circumstantial evidence for Roman architecture. The possible use as a mortuary monument of some Late- or post-Roman structures associated with burials—a masonry tower and a related building with hypocaust flooring—is discussed in Chapter 8.

Chapter 8 also reflects on the symbolic and ideological nature of the Heslington landscape, considering ways in which special depositions, notably human remains, are used to signal change, demarcate boundaries, memorialise groups and mark the closure of a structure or feature. Examples include Bronze Age cremations placed in inverted collared urns buried in one part of the landscape and human remains from the same period deposited alongside animal bones and artefacts in wetter areas, reflecting differential treatment of the dead in different parts of the landscape. During the Iron Age, the creation of a boundary marked by a pit alignment and associated with well 2, was commemorated by the deposition of a decapitated human skull, which, unusually, preserved brain soft tissue. The individual, a male aged 26–35, died by long-drop hanging, before being decapitated and the head deposited face down in the southern terminal pit—perhaps formalising the first Iron Age boundary in the landscape. Roman-period burials include a cluster of shallow but carefully and deliberately deposited neonates, some of which had associated grave goods, and two mid-third-century AD adult inhumations.

Roskams and Neal's highly readable volume provides a detailed, yet accessible, report of the archaeological investigations at Heslington, and shows how detailed study of even relatively small areas of a landscape can draw out the subsistence, settlement and ritual patterns of past societies. Their themed approach to transitions in the landscape works well to present human engagement with the environment and its resources, with the final chapter contextualising these landscape transitions within broader regional trends. In so doing, they draw together the evidence to create a narrative of the landscape, exploring how it shaped and was shaped by generations of people.

Continuing the theme of the long view of landscape change and presenting the results of another project initiated by development work, A Welsh landscape through time offers a window on a complex and intensively occupied island landscape. With occupation from the Early Neolithic onwards, Holy Island, located just off the west coast of Anglesey, provides a snapshot of the prehistory of Wales. The excavations at Holy Island were undertaken in advance of the Welsh government development work at Parc Cybi. Jane Kenney's volume presents the project's post-excavation results and provides a summary of the most significant discoveries, set in the context of their regional importance and their significance in relation to UK archaeology more broadly.

After an introduction to the project and its scope, Chapter 2 presents the topography and geology of Holy Island, along with a broad overview of human occupation and its impact on the physical landscape. Subsequent chapters focus on the detail of each period from the Mesolithic to post-medieval. While the evidence for Mesolithic activity is scant and widely dispersed, it does clearly show human activity on the island, including lithics associated with cutting and scraping functions and a tentative structure represented by a group of postholes. The postholes are not securely dated to the Mesolithic, however, and the two charred hazel-wood fragments that were dated returned disparate Mesolithic dates (over 2000 years apart). The fragmentary evidence for Mesolithic occupation on Holy Island mirrors that of Wales more broadly; it is likely that the island saw only brief human activity during that period.

The Neolithic is better represented, with activity evidenced by pits containing pottery (Peterborough Ware and Grooved Ware), but with few evident structures in the location. The evidence for Neolithic activity on Anglesey is largely limited to chambered tombs, similar to the notable Trefignath tomb within the Parc Cybi area. The excavations at Parc Cybi therefore provided an opportunity to understand the landscape around such tombs and their possible relationships with other archaeological evidence. Approximately 90m to the west of Trefignath, a series of pits, gullies, postholes and hearths were discovered, which are thought to represent the remains of an Early Neolithic timber hall. Finds include worked quartz crystal—an impractical choice, but a material sourced from Snowdonia, which may have been chosen for the significance imbued by its landscape context. Locally produced pottery was also discovered, and lipid analysis has revealed the processing of dairy products. This is not unusual on Neolithic sites, but what is remarkable is that this is the first known instance of all the vessels from a site having been used to contain solely dairy products, perhaps suggesting specialisation. The most unusual find from the building was a cannel coal bead, dated to the Early Neolithic. This bead is unique both in its regional and British context and is dated 500 years earlier than comparable Neolithic Welsh objects. Kenney provides an interpretation of the putative timber hall, together with a Bayesian model for its dating and a reconstruction.

The Bronze Age activity on Holy Island is evident in a ceremonial complex with a ring ditch (probably surrounding a barrow), a D-shaped enclosure and cist cemetery all focused around a small, raised plateau. The peak of settlement at Parc Cybi appears to have been during the Middle Iron Age, from when there is evidence for a settlement of four stone-walled roundhouses plus an additional roundhouse without evidence for stone walls, and several smaller buildings. The roundhouses here are unusual in that their entrances face one another, a phenomenon seen more commonly in northern England and Scotland. Evidence for Roman settlement on the island is limited to a third- to fourth-century AD farmstead, while early medieval activity is reflected in the form of two corn dryers, and a long-cist cemetery that is difficult to date and from which at least some of the graves could represent Late Roman burial.

Jane Kenney's volume offers a detailed window on the transformation of a landscape that has provided a home for human populations for over 8000 years. In many ways, the settlements are each unremarkable amongst wider comparanda, but as Kenney states, “it is the everyday and the ordinary that gives the clearest impression of life in the past” (p. 207).

Shifting our attention across the Irish Sea, our next volume considers the landscape of south-western Ireland, with a focus on the Vale of Tralee. Published by Transport Infrastructure Ireland as part of its heritage series, in collaboration with Wordwell Press, In the Vale of Tralee reports on the archaeology recorded as part of mitigation for the Tralee Bypass—a huge infrastructure project in County Kerry. As part of the commitment to the dissemination of archaeological knowledge, the excavation reports for all sites excavated on the Tralee Bypass are published online, hosted by the Digital Repository of Ireland (DRI). This volume represents the interpretation, through the archaeological results, of the changing landscape of the Lee Valley, taking in sites from the Neolithic to the post-medieval periods.

The volume opens with discussion of the prior knowledge of archaeology in the region. This was limited until the 1990s, when developer-led archaeology began to reveal a variety of sites from as early as the Neolithic period. A total of 37 sites were excavated as part of the mitigation for the bypass. Data on the eight most significant sites discovered are provided as summaries in Chapter 2 by Lyndsey Clark and Stephen Hourihan; for the full reports and details of the remaining 29 sites, the reader should access the grey literature reports available on the DRI. The eight site reports are concise and supported by full colour plans and photographs.

In Chapter 3, Scott Timpany considers the ecofacts and archaeobotanical evidence to build a picture of the landscape and environment over 6000 years of human occupation. This chapter describes landscape changes from the immediate post-glacial era (c. 15 000 years ago) to scrub woodland and grasses (c. 11 000 years ago) and the established woodland of oak, elm, hazel, willow and pine that provided a habitat for the earliest-known human occupants of the landscape c. 6000 years ago. From that time onwards, evidence shows that the landscape was managed by coppicing and preferential selection of wood resources. Cereal cultivation is evident from the Neolithic onwards, and farming appears to have played an important role in subsistence and, consequently, the shape of the landscape. Chapters 4–7 detail the major settlement evidence for the Mesolithic and Neolithic, Bronze Age, Iron Age and medieval periods. Whereas many landscape narratives stop at the post-medieval, in an unusual and welcome addition, Chapter 8 follows the development of the landscape from the sixteenth century through to the turn of the twentieth century, to understand the formation of the modern landscape. This chapter considers the archaeology within the context of significant social change, the centralisation of the state, planned villages and the Great Famine (1845–1849), which reduced the population of the country by more than 20 per cent. Like Jane Kenney's volume, above, In the Vale of Tralee offers a window on the changing landscape that reflects the impact of human occupation and the ordinary lives that shaped it.

Hinterlands and inlands follows others—Borderlands (2008) and Riversides (2018)—in the Cambridge Archaeological Unit's landscape monograph series in presenting vast amounts of archaeological data, gathered over decades. The aim of Hinterlands is to dig deep into the specifics of excavated areas, to achieve a two-fold goal: “first, to model and address the area's ‘inland’ land-use sequence and its prehistoric colonization; second, to explore the dynamics of Roman Cambridgeshire's hinterland” (p. 20).

Following the Introduction, Chapter 2 reviews the archaeological evidence for the Roman settlement at Cambridge, in part to determine whether it was significant enough to qualify as a ‘town’, and to map the full extent of its occupation. This chapter is concerned with the discord between some of the archaeological evidence, which undoubtedly represents high-status structures, and the apparently limited size of the conurbation as documented in previous archaeological reports. Key to understanding the size and significance of Roman Cambridge, the authors argue, is to look beyond the immediate vicinity and consider the density of rural hinterland settlements that were engaged in agricultural production, presumably to sustain the town. This is supported by calculations of finds density per hectare (adjusted to account for plough-truncation at hinterland sites), which are explored further in subsequent chapters. This inversion of the top-down approach is an interesting and innovative solution to understanding a ‘missing’ town.

Later chapters focus on more specific aspects of the research. Chapter 3 presents the results of the New Hall excavations in the mid 1990s, which revealed the Roman road to the west of the town, and then reconsiders these results in light of subsequent excavations in the vicinity, such as Marion Close; the Fitzwilliam College library excavations; Trinity Hall playing fields; and the Murray Edwards excavation. The excavations to the west of Cambridge recovered interesting and complex finds, including burials, deposits of entire animals (discussed as either ritual or just disposal) and evidence of specialised pottery production. All these aspects required further context, and this is provided by the broadening of the study area still further to the west to examine the excavations at Vicar's Farm. These are the subject of Chapters 4–6, which describe the settlement and its features, and suggest that it was not only a substantial farm, but also a hub in the wider landscape.

The final chapter details further evaluation trenching across west Cambridge and another Roman-period farmstead at Wilberforce Road. In this final section, the reader might expect conclusions, but the aim of this volume was never to offer a broad overarching discussion; this, the authors promise, will be in the next volume. The closing chapter does, however, reflect on the changes in developer-led excavations and the technical developments of the last 20 years. Noting the increase in evidence and data that developer-led excavation has generated—particularly in places such as Cambridge that have expanded rapidly into green-belt areas—the authors call for a move to “more statistically based comparative approaches to their analysis” (p. 490). This detailed and thoughtful volume emphasises the importance of constant reflection on the past (and on past archaeology) in the light of the present, and the need to find better ways to understand and explain the complexities in ancient landscapes that were much more intensively used than we may imagine.

As all of these volumes demonstrate, understanding landscape change over time offers more than simply a chronology of use. Reading the archaeology carefully, the spaces in between, as well as the monumental, can reveal human choices, significant places, social change and political manoeuvring. These volumes demonstrate how much information can be drawn out of landscapes, and that it may be in the ordinary, unremarkable areas and lives that we learn the most about society. The challenge to archaeologists is to recognise the fluidity, not only of past landscape use, but also of our interpretation of it. We need a reflexive approach that constantly revisits the data in light of new technologies and approaches, and to recognise that our interpretations are never final.

This list includes all books received between 1 May 2022 and 30 June 2022. Those featuring at the beginning of New Book Chronicle, however, have not been duplicated in this list. The listing of a book in this chronicle does not preclude its subsequent review in Antiquity.