And the epigraphic fragment of the marble lararium lived happily ever after...

Our story begins at the house of Lucius Caecilius Iucundus, a banker from Pompeii, whose residence was found buried under a blanket of ash and lapilli during the Bourbon excavations in 1844.  Between 1875-1876 researchers exploring his residence discovered a stash of some 154 waxed boards, which gave us the occupant's historic profession.  These recorded the commissions paid (1-4%) for loans with the banker between 52 and 62 AD.  Most covered transactions for real estate rents, securities, trade goods, and in some cases the purchase of animals and slaves.  

Three of these recovered apochae, (receipts from a creditor acknowledging the payment of a debt) offered a captivating peek into the everyday life of the home's enigmatic "banker," who, before Vesuvius blew, in 79 CE, once lead a comfortable life in this domus.  They also serve as a window into the everyday transactions of Pompeii's middle class merchants and landowners as they documented items sold, alongside the identities of sellers and, in one case even the buyer. Issued to Iucundus, in front of named witnesses, these ancient documents cover sums ranging from a few hundred sesterces to as much as 38,000 sesterces, each meticulously recorded as transactions between the merchant banker and his private clients or at auctions for small transactions.  

Walking inside the vestibule of the house of Iucundus, with its floor mosaic depicting a guard dog, you arrive to his atrium, with its central impluvium surrounded by a mosaic of geometric figures.  One of the most important rooms in a Roman house, it is here, in the north-west corner that Iucundus placed his lararium, a shrine to the guardian spirits of his Roman household, where the banker, his family and his servants, likely performed daily rituals to guarantee their protection.  

We know from the details of the carved frieze on two sides of this home chapel that the lararium was positioned here after the famous earthquake which shook the city in 62 CE because it details, on two of its bas-reliefs, the damage from that event. The first bas-relief, found intact, details the collapse of the Capitolium in the Forum of Pompeii next to a ceremony propitiating the Goddess Tellus.  

The second relief depicts the damage suffered by the Porta Vesuvius which collapsed as a result of the earthquake and to its left the castellum aquae.  This marble slab was not found inside Iucundus' house, but in the areas adjacent to it.  Why the banker chose to memorialise this mournful event is unknown, but perhaps having born witness to the earlier destruction and having escaped catastrophe, he wanted to offer a ex voto to his tutelary deities for the grace they bestowed on his family. 

Originally stored in the Antiquarium of Pompeii, these two marble reliefs were eventually reinstalled in the house of Lucius Caecilius Iucundus when his lararium was restored.  They and depicted in numerous photos, in situ, from the 1930s onward.   The piece depicting the Porta Vesuvius was cemented into the north wall above the base of the lararium, perhaps because of its imprecise find spot.  There, both reliefs remained, that is until thieves began prying pieces loose in the 1970s. 

Subsequent to the theft, the remaining bas-relief was moved to the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli, for safekeeping, while all that remained of the second fragment which depicted the Porta Vesuvius was its cast impression, taken in the 1930s and part of the collection at the Museo della Civiltà Romana in Rome.  There were no further traces of the stolen bas-relief until it was identified some 50 years later, cemented into the staircase of another family home, this time in Flanders, Belgium.  

Raphaël De Temmerman, 80, and his son, Geert De Temmerman, told authorities that they visited Pompeii in 1975, (long after Italy's cultural property laws went into effect.  While touring the archaeological site, the pair were approached by an unidentified man who offered to sell them an ancient souvenir.  Without thinking if their actions were legal or not, the tourists purchased the ancient marble and returned home to Belgium with a 2000 year old momento of their trip.  

Back home in Tongeren, the relief was cemented into the family's stairwell, wherte remained in the De Temmerman's home until Geert contacted the Gallo-Roman museum in Flanders hoping to get the piece appraised.  From there it was identified as the well documented artefact stolen from the Pompeii banker's domus. 

Anyone who has visited Pompeii in the 1970s comparing it with today has seen the devastation the influx of tourists to archaeological wonders can cause, (with or without theft).   The sheer volume of visitors, coupled with a lack of awareness or disregard for preservation, has led to an erosion of delicate frescoes, as well as the deterioration of centuries-old structures, and wear-and-tear on the very remnants that attract these crowds. 

Trampling on restricted areas, unauthorised touching, and even instances of graffiti also contribute to the gradual degradation of this historical marvel, despite the best efforts of its site managers, who do their best to strike a balance between making this cultural treasure accessible to the public and still safeguarding the city for future generations. 

Legends speak of the spectral inhabitants of this archaeological site, the echoes of lives abruptly interrupted by the cataclysmic eruption.  Some say that the spirits of Pompeii's past residents wander amidst the remnants of their homes and streets, quietly observing the influx of modern-day visitors. Visiting this archaeologicalsite, ARCA recommends that tourists take only memories and leave only footprints, lest the restless souls of the city's past inhabitants subject you to their ethereal disapproval.