The best preserved house from Vesuvius, home to Herculaneum’s favorite son

Imagine getting a call telling you how your super awesome vacation home got blown up by the volcanic eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. Well, not a call. Probably more like a written message someone delivered on horseback. 

Pompeii is packed with mansions, and the same is true of the nearby town of Herculaneum. Sure, there were plenty regular folk around, but this was a prime vacation spot. If you were a really wealthy politician or had sucked up to some of them, having a classy house around here was the way to go. Probably like having a second home in the Caribbean. Or Branson, Missouri. Depending on your interests. 

Big house, lots of slaves, beautiful view of the water, maybe a guard dog with an intricate mosaic of your mean puppy at the entrance. 

In Pompeii, most of these mansions received quite a bit of damage. Ash and rocks from Vesuvius pelted them for hours before the city was buried, causing many buildings to collapse. 

But the winds were blowing towards Pompeii. In Herculaneum, the story was different — it was buried quite quickly, leaving many structures far more intact. 

The Super Awesome House

So what we’re seeing here is the atrium, the main entrance area of the home. Near where I was standing when I took this picture sits the impluvium, the square basin for catching rainwater. Over to the right was the office where the home’s owner would have sat, awaiting guests. Unfortunately the roof is gone, but it’s the columns that really draw the eye.

In most places in Pompeii and Herculaneum, you just see bare columns. These have their coating of stucco on the outside, with the paint still intact, which can help us imagine how colorful these spaces must have been.

In between the columns are what’s called “oscilla,” little marble discs with reliefs on both sides. These are replicas — but yes, they did hang. Think about the word, and think of “oscillate.”  Isn’t etymology great?

Just to give you an idea of how amazing this house was, it was three stories tall, and here’s some information on the dining room: the ceilings were THIRTY FEET HIGH. There was a marble floor, marble walls, and a huge balcony right by the water.

There was also a really intricate wooden ceiling, painted and gilded. The pyroclastic surge from the eruption of Vesuvius flipped it off and dropped it on the beach. It was buried in sand, then by ash and mud — leaving it all quite intact. Archaeologists were working on putting it back together in 2012, and I assume they still are.

Here’s a link to an article about it, showing a few images. Can you imagine the parties they must have had here?

Is this really the “best preserved” house from the eruption of Vesuvius? Well, that’s subjective. But this is certainly the most impressive area I saw. Wait, did you get clickbaited? Again: subjective.

The Super Awesome Owner

So who had such an MTV Cribs-worthy house? Wait, is that still a valid reference?

Well, this house — more like a palace, really — had its own entrance to the Suburban Baths. It’s also attached to a terrace with a big statue of a guy named Marcus Nonius Balbus, and it’s believed the home was his. 

Marcus was from the nearby town of Nuceria. He was a tribune during the time of Julius Caesar, and after the assassination you’ve probably heard of, he sided with Octavian. It must have been a tough decision for a lot of people. If you backed the wrong guy, everything you’d worked for could just go up like…a volcano.

Sorry for the excessively obvious analogy.

Marcus made the right call when it came to who he aligned himself with. Octavian became Augustus, the first Emperor of the Roman Empire. Marcus was rewarded handsomely, becoming the governor of Crete and Cyrene. 

For some reason, he settled in Herculaneum and became its most famous citizen. I don’t know why, and I’m not sure anyone does. Herculaneum was definitely a place for rich and famous high rollers, but there must have been a bigger reason than that. Although I imagine the views of the bay had something to do with it.

No matter why he chose to live there, he certainly seemed to love it. Marcus funded projects all over town, paying for the basilica and likely the baths we already talked about — as well as many other buildings. 

Think of it like this: Marcus was the Jeff Bezos of Herculaneum, if Jeff Bezos wasn’t a selfish ass who hoarded all his cash. 

There were statues of Marcus all over Herculaneum. They were proud of their boy. I mean, he didn’t even put them all up himself. That would’ve made him a Bezos, right? Some were funded by locals, others by people in Crete and Cyrene, or his hometown of Nuceria.

Incidentally, the name “Balbus” meant “stammerer.” So it’s possible Marcus had a stutter. Or it could just be a name he inherited. I prefer to think he did have one  — it makes for a better story, doesn’t it?

Remember the terrace with the big statue of him? Well, it was actually next to his funerary altar. You see, Marcus died years before the volcano. The statue and accompanying funerary altar were put up by one of his freed slaves, and the inscription reads in part: 

“To Marcus Nonius Balbus…the procession of Parentalia should part from this spot, and that at the customary athletic games one day should be dedicated to his honor, and on the occasion of performances at the theatre a seat should be placed for him.”

If I’m reading that correctly, it means that during plays, someone would put out a chair for him, which would remain empty. Somehow I don’t see anyone doing that for Bezos. 

Vesuvius Calling: Anyone Home?

Like I said, Herculaneum had plenty of advance warning. They watched the cloud emerge from Vesuvius and head towards Pompeii — most everyone in the city got out.

Who lived in Marcus’ house at the time? No one knows. I assume it would’ve been passed down through the family. In which case it may have been occupied by them, or they would’ve gotten that horseback text message saying “Sorry, grandpa’s house is now under like 60 feet of mud.”

The heat of the pyroclastic surge that buried Herculaneum is what damaged Marcus’ statue. Basically it was so hot, it stripped the marble away. What we see of it today is a recent reconstruction, using the pieces that were found.

As for the house, it’s called the “House of the Telephus Relief,” due to a relief they found there. Personally I think they should name it after the man who lived there. Or just go with “The House of the Better Bezos.”