Lesson 202 - The Eruption of Vesuvius

Lesson 202 - The Eruption of Vesuvius is a lesson received by Email themed around The Terrifying Eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. This lesson is the second lesson sent to fans over Email.

## Lesson

Hello, class! Welcome to week two of Puppet University. And also: I’m sorry. What a horrifying tale The Professor taught this week (and that I must expand upon into further horrifying detail).

In case you forgot who I am, or you’re transferring into this class because you heard week one was spectacular, my name’s Kari Koeppel, and I’ll be your TA this semester (The Professor is, of course, too important to deal with the minutiae of running a class). I’m a writer and researcher who helped The Professor research this season of Puppet History, and I published a book in May called Strong Women: 15 Biographies of Influential Women History Overlooked.

First things first, a great little tidbit that one of your classmates shared after our last class

Love this! You can read more about Lincoln’s last train ride and his connection to embalming here. (That article also mentions the death of Lincoln’s young son Willie in 1862, which reminds me: If you haven’t read Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders, I highly recommend it! It’s a weird, special fiction/non-fiction hybrid that’s unlike anything else I’ve ever read.)

Now, the topic of this week’s section: Pompeii.

Image via Encyclopedia Britannica, which we are probably not allowed to use, so please don’t tell them! I just wanted to give the class an idea of the area’s geography.

The story The Professor told encompasses the entire region around Vesuvius during its eruption in 79 CE, from Pompeii, located at the southeastern base of the mountain (only about 5 miles away), to the Plinys over in Misenum (13 miles away) and Stabiae (9 miles away). That region around the Bay of Naples was called Campania, and it was known for its fertile vineyards, possibly due to soil rich with volcanic matter. (At least one jar of Pompeiian wine is known to have made it all the way to England — Roman Empire, remember? Stretched all the way up to Britannia for a time.)

Pompeii wasn’t the only community that was buried by the eruption. Herculaneum, Stabiae (where Pliny the Elder died), Torre Annunziata, and other communities all suffered the same fate. Sadly, it’s my teaching-assistant duty to inform you of the horrifying fate of Herculaneum. I would totally spare you the gory details but The Professor audits these emails (hi Professor!). While the first to die in Pompeii, which was downwind from Vesuvius, were crushed to death by debris, those near Herculaneum were most likely incinerated. Due to the winds, no stones were found in Herculaneum, even though it was closer to Vesuvius. Herculaneum was on the coast (Pompeii was inland), and it was upwind from Vesuvius, which gave its residents  time to seek shelter from the eruption. Logically, they made their way towards the sea, hoping to escape by boat. Along the shore there were a series of arched vaults, about 10 feet wide by 13 feet deep, likely used to store boats. Naturally, when it became clear that the sea escape route wouldn’t work, people ran into these vaults to get out of the way of the lava flow. Titanic-style, women and children got first priority in the vaults, leaving many men exposed. In the 1980s, archeologists found nearly 300 bodies along these vaults, carrying their most prized possessions. A recent study suggests that those in the shelters may have actually met slower and more agonizing deaths (perhaps by asphyxiation) than those left exposed, who were likely killed instantly by the extreme heat. The pyroclastic surge was so hot that a cache of bronze and silver coins were found fused into a solid block of metal.

Even worse, researchers have identified some glassy black material found in Herculaneum as the brain matter of one of the victims. In fact, the study made the hypothesis that those who died along Herculaneum’s boathouses may have had their skeletons baked from the inside without being burned, which would explain how, rather than being charred, what relatively good condition the skeletons are in.

After that fun anecdote, let’s move on to some queries that were raised in the episode. Ryan and Matt had a number of questions about the science of volcanoes that The Professor couldn’t quite answer — to be fair, he’s a professor of history, not volcanology — so, as his TA, it’s my job to answer them. Tight.

Was Vesuvius on a fault line?

Kinda, but not quite. Vesuvius is above a subduction zone, which is the area of the Earth’s crust where tectonic plates meet. Vesuvius is located north of where African plate meets the Eurasian plate. There is constant (albeit slow) movement here: The African plate moves one inch north underneath the Eurasian plate each year.

Earthquakes were frequent in the region, but people were used to them, and they had no idea that they could be connected to volcanic activity. In 62 or 63 CE (16-17 years before the Vesuvius eruption), there was an earthquake that scientists now believe was an early warning sign. (It’s tough to be a human and think in geological years — especially with lifespans being what they were back then.) The earthquake was likely caused by a gaseous buildup beneath the Earth’s surface, and there was considerable damage to both Pompeii and Herculaneum. In fact, neither doomed city had fully recovered from this earthquake before the Vesuvius eruption.

Why did Vesuvius erupt?

The gaseous pressure had built back up again by 79 CE. There were earthquakes for several days leading up to the eruption, but again, people were pretty used to them, so they didn’t flag them as a possible warning sign.

Why do volcanoes erupt over time — is it a buildup of gas?

Pretty much, but it also has to do with the movement of those tectonic plates. When the plates move, it pushes magma (which is lighter than solid rock) to the Earth’s surface. As it moves, gas bubbles are created within it; volcanoes are the Earth’s little vents to let out that gas and magma and relieve the pressure. Magma, once above the surface, is called lava.

Had anyone climbed to the top [of Vesuvius] and looked inside and been like, “whoa, it looks hot in there”?

The citizens of the area were aware that Vesuvius was a volcano, but it had not erupted for about 700 years at that point, so it wasn’t top of mind as a possibility. That being said, the below top-down photo of Vesuvius, taken by NASA in 2002, does not show any lava. I’m pretty sure lava is only visible when a volcano is actively erupting; in the in-between times, I think the lava hardens over the top.

Do all volcanoes look like cartoon toilet-bowl volcanoes?

No. According to the USGS, here are four principal types of volcanoes. Those cartoon toilet-bowl ones you’re thinking of — like the one beautifully depicted in the episode’s musical number — is a composite volcano, also known as a stratovolcano. They’re typically quite tall. Some of the most famous volcanoes (and mountains) in the world are composite volcanoes, like Mount Fuji in Japan and Mount St. Helens in Washington state. Vesuvius is a stratovolcano that rose out of the remains of an older stratovolcano, Somma, that collapsed about 15,000 years before Vesuvius’s 79 CE eruption. Here is a photo of Vesuvius erupting in the early 1900s:

Yeah, that sure looks like a cartoon toilet-bowl volcano to me. (via Oregon State University)

Cinder cones also kind of look like cartoon toilet-bowl volcanoes, tbh, and they’re actually the most common type of volcano. They’re not as tall as composite volcanoes, typically only rising about 1,000 feet above its surrounding area. The other two types of volcanoes are shield volcanoes, which are mainly built of fluid lava flows that come from a central vent, creating a broad, gently sloping figure (sort of like... a shield), and lava domes, which are formed by small areas of lava that are too viscous to go very far from their vent, creating short, steep-sided dome. Neither of these look like anything cartoon toilet-bowl volcanoes.

Hopefully now, unlike the ancient Romans, you’ll be able to identify a volcano and the warning signs of its eruption.

One last thing before class is dismissed: the origin of the phrase “Fortune favors the bold.” Pliny the Elder wasn’t the first known example of the phrase, though he was certainly one of the earliest; before that, according to certain translations, Virgil has a character shout it as he’s running into battle in the Aeneid, written in 19 BCE. Since publishing dates are hazy, it’s unknown whether the earliest instance is found in the comic play Phormio by African-Roman writer Terence, or in the epic poem Annals by Roman poet Ennius (considered the father of Roman literature), both published in the second century BCE — though, who knows? Perhaps this was a commonly spoken phrase in the ancient Roman empire, before things were written down. Wild to think we’re still saying it 2,000+ years later!

Oh, and if post-pandemic you’re ever in LA, I highly recommend trekking out to Malibu to visit the Getty Villa. The museum is modeled after the Villa dei Papiri, a Herculaneum villa that was rediscovered in the 1750s, and I went to this super cool "Buried by Vesuvius" exhibit there last October (what is it about this stuff that’s so morbidly fascinating?). The property itself is gorgeous, so even if you’re not into ancient art and artifacts, it’s still a great experience. Also I fully bought some gorgeous earrings in the gift shop.

Next week, The Professor remains in the ancient world to teach us about a woman leader long erased from history… and that’s a purposeful, upside-down-pencil erasure, not just your average forgetfulness over time

In the meantime, you can learn all about ordinary woman in history who did extraordinary things in my book, Strong Women: 15 Biographies of Influential Women History Overlooked, available pretty much wherever books are sold (including both the big guns and the little bbs, whomsoever you choose to give your money to).