An attempt to rescue the decaying ruins of Herculaneum, the Ancient Roman town that was buried with Pompeii by the eruption of Vesuvius, is to be overseen by British archaeologists. Using the latest conservation techniques with the help of Italian consultants, a team from the British School at Rome will set out to repair not just the ravages of time but the botched work of early restorers and the depredations of generations of tourists. Professor Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, director of the British School, whose ten-year project on the six-hectare site is due to start in the autumn, said: "The place is in an appalling state. Exquisite buildings are crumbling before our eyes, mosaics are being destroyed by damp and weeds and many of the remains are covered in pigeon droppings." Shortage of funding and the lack of adequate maintenance over the past half-century have led to a process of disintegration at Herculaneum that has accelerated in recent years. Many houses are now so dangerous as to be closed to the public. Professor Wallace-Hadrill said that the project involves redoing all the hasty work that the Fascist Government of Mussolini did in the 1930s in an attempt to make the site a showpiece. Many of the roofs and shelters built in reinforced concrete are collapsing and drainpipes deposit rainwater against frescoed walls. "First we have to go around with sticking plaster trying to patch up the worst damage," he said. "Then we have to find individual solutions for each house, solutions that will last into the future and not provoke more damage." Finance for the project is coming from the Packard Humanities Institute, a major philanthropic foundation based in California. The president of the foundation, David Woodley Packard, is a former professor of classics with a passion for the ancient world. He has made it clear that it will pay whatever it takes to carry out the rescue operation properly. Unofficial estimates put the price tag at about 100 million (about 54 million) over ten years. The project is a breakthrough for cultural conservation in Italy, which is plagued by labyrinthine bureaucracy designed to keep away unscrupulous contractors. A new law simplifying financing procedures, opening the way for private sponsors, was passed this year, making the Herculaneum project possible. Herculaneum, a small seaside town south of Naples, was destroyed in the eruption of August 24 in AD79 that buried Pompeii. But while Pompeii was covered in hot ash and lava, its neighbour disappeared beneath an avalanche of molten rock. Lying closer to the volcano's rim, it was buried deeper than Pompeii, preserving the upper floors of some buildings and some beds. The rush of boiling lava carbonised organic materials, preserving much wooden furniture as well as some food. Pompeii, whose site is ten times as big, has received more attention because the houses and streets were easier to excavate. But Herculaneum's treasures are no less impressive. In its heyday it was a city of seaside patrician villas. The ruins include exquisite baths and a partly excavated villa said to have contained a celebrated "lost Latin library" buried beneath tons of rock. This so-called Villa of the Papyri, once the property of Julius Caesar's father-in law, is known to have contained an unparalleled collection of works by poets such as Horace and Virgil. The first excavations at Herculaneum started in 1738, but large-scale open-air digging began in earnest in 1927. Guidebooks tell tourists that the site preserves the feel of a bustling town with both luxury mansions and little shops and businesses. Coca-Cola cans and crisp packets detract somewhat from that feel. Archaeologists believed for a long time that, unlike those of Pompeii, most of Herculaneum's 4,000 inhabitants managed to escape. But recent discoveries of skeletons in various poses of horror suggest otherwise. Skeletons have also been found in ruins near the shore, suggesting that people were trying to escape in boats when the molten rock reached them. Professor Wallace-Hadrill said he had been particularly dismayed by the state of degradation in the House of the Bicentenary and in the House of the Mosaic Atrium, two key landmarks at Herculaneum. "The House of the Bicentenary has hundreds of tiles missing from its roof. When it rains, water just cascades through it into the entrance hall. It makes me weep because it's such a splendid entrance hall." He said he was also horrified when he went into the House of the Mosaic Atrium, which has a much admired black and white mosaic on the floor of its entrance. "The place has become a pigeon loft. The birds roost in the ancient beam holes and their droppings, which are acidic, run down the frescoed walls. The excrement eats away at the decorations." The professor said that his team had already found the best solution for that problem. And it's not high-tech. They are to bring in a pair of falcons to scare the pigeons away. Monica Martelli, one of the Italian consultants involved in the project, said a key task would be to make sure a comprehensive drainage System was in piace to take rainwater away from the buildings quickly. "This might be a question of just mending a drainpipe or unblocking a gutter in the existing System, which is based on the ancient one but is very leaky and fragmented. "The first job is to study what happens to rainwater at the moment, see where it goes and where the main problems are. Then we'll have to work out a global System which will serve the site as a whole." Signora Martelli, an expert in restoring mosaics and frescoes, said the elimination of water was vital for their longterm survival. Many of them have salt encrustations on them, left by the passage of water over the decades since they were unearthed. Only when this problem has been resolved can work really begin on the decorated surfaces of the houses, she said. "We'll stabilise ali the frescoes that are in danger of falling away from the walls which is at least half and then clean them." Stabilising a fresco often involves injecting material, usually similar to the stucco or plaster originally used, into the space between it and the wall. Sometimes the frescoes have to be removed and attached to a firm base before being returned to their walls.