All language subtitles for Expedition.Files.S03E04.Lost.Treasures.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-RAWR_track3_[eng]

On this episode
of "Expedition Files."

A treasure so magnificent,
it's been called "the eighth

wonder of the world."

The Amber Room,
stolen by the Nazis,

and then it vanishes.

Was it destroyed
in the chaos of war,

or is it still out there?

Then, almost a billion dollars
in Bitcoin lost

on a missing hard drive.

Can this massive digital
fortune be recovered

from a landfill?

And finally, King Solomon's
mines, long dismissed as myth,

until now, shocking new
discoveries reveal the truth

behind what could be
the greatest treasure hoard

in history.

In the corridors of time...

are mysteries
that defy explanation.

Now, I'm traveling
through history itself...

on a search for the truth.

New evidence,

shocking answers.

I'm Josh Gates.

And these...

are my "Expedition Files."

When we talk about treasured
objects, sometimes we use

a healthy dose
of poetic license.

Were my Garbage Pail Kids
trading cards really treasure

back in the 1980s?

Yeah, Mom.
Yeah, they were.

But some objects really are
bona fide solid gold treasures,

often because they're made of,
well, solid gold.

And tonight, we examine
the mysteries of three

of history's most fascinating
missing treasures, lost for

years, decades, even millennia,
and now, perhaps, found.

And we begin here,
in the gilded halls

of Catherine Palace
in St. Petersburg.

This is the residence
of the Russian tsars,

but since this is June of 1941,

it's currently overrun
by Nazis.

The palace is filled
with countless treasures,

but the Germans are hunting
for the greatest of them all,

a masterpiece so valuable

it's been called "the eighth
wonder of the world."

But the Soviets have made it
disappear, or at least

they've tried to.

It's here.

I found it.
It's here.

Obscured behind wallpaper,
the Nazis have discovered

their gilded prize.

The treasure isn't something
hidden in the room.

It is the room,
a dazzling chamber made of six

tons of hand-carved amber,
gold leaf, and gemstones

worth hundreds of millions
of dollars.

They will now painstakingly
dismantle the world-famous

Amber Room, pack it all
into crates, and remove it

from the palace.
But then it will vanish.

Some will claim it's destroyed,
or perhaps hidden by the Nazis.

But three-quarters of a century
later, a new search will give

hope that this colossal
lost masterpiece

might finally be recovered.

Its disappearance
is mysterious,

but its origins
are well known.

In 1701, the first king of
Prussia, Frederick I, sets out

to create a room that will
dazzle his guests and cement

Prussia's place among
Europe's great powers.

He chooses a highly prized
material, amber,

fossilized tree resin millions
of years old that can be worked

into a glittering
orange gemstone.

At the time, high quality amber
was more valuable than gold.

In the hands of Prussia's
finest artisans, it is

transformed into a masterpiece
of craftsmanship

and imperial power.

In 1716, the room's 129 panels
are gifted to Russia's tsar

Peter the Great,

solidifying a diplomatic
alliance with Prussia.

The panels arrive
in St. Petersburg and are

ultimately installed
in the Catherine Palace.

The final result is stunning.

Amber carvings gilded in gold,
accented with mirrors,

and inset with precious
gems and beautiful

Florentine mosaics.

By day, the walls shift in hue
from deep honey to fiery gold.

And at night, the flicker of
550 candles makes the room glow

from within, radiant and alive.

Some believe the room is just
as beautiful as Versailles'

legendary Hall of Mirrors.

The goal's much the same,
to proclaim prestige

and sophistication through
a theatrical aura

of divine power.

But to the Nazis
200 years later,

the Amber Room is
something else entirely.

They arrogantly believe
it's their birthright.

Prussia would go on to become
a part of Germany.

And since the Amber Room was
created by Prussian craftsmen,

the Nazis believe they have
a claim to the prized artifact.

And now they're stealing it.

Within 36 hours
of its discovery, the Nazis pack

the room's contents
into 27 crates

and ship them by rail
to Germany.

The Amber Room
is then reconstructed

at Königsberg Castle
in Nazi-occupied territory.

We know it arrives there
because the castle's museum

lists it in their records
as "Item 200."

It's even put on display
for Nazi officials.

But by August of 1944,
the Nazis are on the defensive.

British bombers hammer
Königsberg, reducing much

of the city, including
the castle, to rubble.

Then, in April 1945,
Soviet troops

surround the city.

They fight block-by-block
until Germany surrenders.

But in the aftermath, no trace
of the treasure-filled crates

are discovered.

Just a month later,
a secret Soviet investigation

is launched
to locate the Amber Room.

According to declassified
documents from the Russian

National Archives, this report
concludes that the treasure has

most likely been destroyed,
consumed by fire during

the bombing
of Königsberg Castle.

So that's the end
of the story, right?

Not quite.

No evidence of its destruction
is found.

But one man doesn't want
to give up easily,

Anatoly Kuchumov,
a young Russian museum curator

desperate to make amends.

It was Kuchumov who made
the fateful decision to conceal

the Amber Room behind wallpaper
in the Catherine Palace

instead of sending it to safety.

Now, with colleagues already
sent to the Gulag for failing

to protect Soviet treasures,
Kuchumov is determined to find

the remains of the amber panels
and save his own skin.

Kuchumov's team heads straight
to the charred ruins

of Königsberg Castle.

Sifting through the rubble,
they make

a startling discovery.

The damaged remains of three
Florentine mosaics that once

adorned the Amber Room's
glowing walls.

They were added to the room
by Empress Elizabeth of Russia

in the 1750s to replace
oil paintings

that originally hung there.

These colorful mosaics were
made from natural minerals

and semi-precious stones,

carefully arranged to resemble
detailed paintings.

The frames are fashioned
from carved and sliced pieces

of amber of various shades.

Though there were originally
four mosaics, the remnants

of only three are found
among the ruins.

But where is the rest
of the Amber Room?

During his investigation,
Kuchumov also discovers a cache

of partially burned
German letters.

They reveal a Nazi plan
to evacuate the amber panels

after the Allied bombings
in 1944.

One dated January 12, 1945,

just before the Soviets
captured the city,

states the Amber Room was being
packed to be moved

far from the front.

This finding gives
Kuchumov hope.

There was no trace of the amber
wall panels uncovered

in the ashes,
only the stone mosaics.

And since the mosaics were
designed as four removable

artworks, they were likely
packaged separately.

If so, there's a chance
the amber walls themselves were

taken out before the flames
engulfed the castle.

Anatoly Kuchumov becomes
convinced the Amber Room is

still out there
waiting to be found.

For the next decade,
he leads excavation teams

throughout the region.

Officially, they're
prospecting for oil.

Secretly, they spend their days
searching ruins,

bunkers, and mines.

But despite years of
excavations across the region,

Kuchumov and his team
come up with nothing.

In 1958, the Soviet government
makes a desperate plea

for new leads.

And the international appeal
launches a tidal wave of tips,

theories, and wild speculation,
each one pointing

to a different fate
for the Amber Room.

In 2015, I joined the hunt
myself, heading to the former

site of Königsberg Castle,
where I followed a hot lead,

a recently unearthed letter
from a Nazi soldier dated 1945.

It describes a secret shipment.

Four trucks sent from
Königsberg to a remote factory

in a small town in Germany
called Deutschneudorf.

Hello, Peter,
nice to meet you.

- Nice to meet you, too.
- What's going on up here?

It seems like you guys have
a full-scale operation

going here.

Right under our feet,
there's a huge network

of mines, and we think
it's in one of these mines

underneath the ground.

Beneath the factory
is an old silver mine.

Here we go.

Miles of twisting tunnels where
the Nazis could have easily

stashed the Amber Room crates.

Look at this.

Look at this place.

Are you kidding me?

This is unbelievable!

I mean, this is like
"Lord of the Rings" down here.

- Oh, let's go! Let's go!
- Oh, back, back, back, back!

Something's a little loose
down there.

Here, come on.

Definitely not safe.

Despite an exhaustive search of
the old mine, the Amber Room's

prized panels were
nowhere to be found.

But was this because I, like
so many others, had been looking

in the wrong place?

Now, a stunning new theory
suggests that instead

of hunting on land, we should
have been searching at sea.

On the hunt for what happened
to a priceless treasure,

we find ourselves
in April of 1945.

With Soviet forces closing in,
the Nazis, on the verge

of defeat, initiate Operation
Hannibal, one of the largest

maritime retreats in history.

They frantically evacuate
people and possessions on every

ship they can find.

The SS Karlsruhe is departing
Königsberg packed

with thousands fleeing in panic.

But could it also be carrying
the legendary Amber Room?

If so, this treasure is headed
straight for disaster.

The following morning,
Soviet planes strike.

In just three minutes,
the Karlsruhe vanishes beneath

the waves off the coast
of Poland,

taking a thousand lives
and all of its secrets with it.

Could the wreck
of the SS Karlsruhe have

secretly carried the long lost
Amber Room?

In 2020, the wreck was located
in the Baltic Sea,

and in the years since,
divers have been searching

the sunken vessel for any trace
of the treasure.

Historian Martin Morgan has
been following their efforts.

The Amber Room is a great
piece of World War II

mystery and mythology,
its complete loss is something

that the world is still
lamenting because we're still

looking for it.

Divers are sent down
to the wreck.

In the debris field,
they find an intact

military vehicle,
they find porcelainware,

and then also they find,
in a cargo hold, a very large

number of wooden crates.

Those wooden crates stand out
as suspicious because

the question
immediately arises,

what are the crates carrying?

But fully exploring
a shipwreck at a depth

of 290 feet isn't easy.

Searching most of the ship
takes over a hundred dives

with technical divers

and the latest remote
submersible technology.

Then eventually they
discover a crate that appears

much better built
than all of the others.

One that is a bit more ornate
in its construction and that

immediately attracts attention,
because this could be it.

This could be the moment
of discovery of the Amber Room.

When they open the crate,
they're hoping to be greeted

by something that glows with
this amber hue, this warmth,

because after all,
even underwater, it will not be

dulled by the passage of time.

But they crack it open,
expecting to be greeted

by this amazing reveal, only
to find that inside the crate is

a coiled U-boat cable.

This is a valuable artifact,
and it's very interesting

in and of itself,
but it's no Amber Room.

The team's search has been
extensive, but is not complete.

There are still parts
of the ship to be explored,

but for now, all diving on
the wreck is tightly controlled

by the Polish government.

Exploration of this wreck site
comes to an official stop

when it is declared
a "war grave."

With that declaration,

no further dives can be
conducted because the lives

of almost a thousand people
ended when that ship was sunk.

So far, no evidence has been
found that Amber Room was

packed aboard Karlsruhe,
but not every last corner

and every last cargo hold
of the ship

has yet been explored.

If the Amber Room survived
World War II, it might be

aboard the ship after all.

I certainly hope it's still out
there, and I hope that we

find it, because I'd love
to live long enough

to see it installed
at the Catherine Palace again.

Although the wreck has
yet to produce the Amber Room,

another small part
of the treasure has been found.

In 1997, the last of its four
mosaics was discovered

in Bremen, Germany, in the home
of a Nazi soldier's son.

As for the rest
of the original,

was it destroyed
in the fires of war?

Is it sealed inside
a sunken ship?

Or is it still hidden
somewhere else in Europe?

The hunt continues.

In the last year alone,
dozens of new leads have been

reported, from a cave system
in Dresden, Germany

to a former SS training ground
in Poland.

So stay tuned.

One day, we might
just be reunited

with the Eighth Wonder
of the World.

We turn our attention now
to a very different kind

of treasure, a digital fortune
that could be

right under my feet.

The year is 2017,
and you'll have

to excuse the smell.

I'm just outside the city
of Newport, Wales,

and this is one of the largest
waste sites in the country,

the Docksway Landfill.

The guy rummaging
through the trash there,

that's computer engineer
James Howells.

He's desperately hunting
for one of his old hard drives.

Why?

Well, because it's worth
a billion dollars.

But James faces
two big problems.

Five million square feet
of garbage

and the fact that the city

refuses to let him
properly search it.

So how does an old hard drive
become worth so much?

And why won't the authorities
let him find it?

In this maddening case
of the lost Bitcoin billion.

One man's trash really is
that same man's treasure.

To understand James' story,
first we have

to understand Bitcoin.

And nobody really
understands Bitcoin.

But the basic idea is
that Bitcoin is an electronic

currency invented
by a mysterious character

with the pseudonym
Satoshi Nakamoto.

Instead of cold-hard cash,
Bitcoin is a digital asset,

basically a really, really long
string of numbers traded

over the Internet.

But here's where it gets
really interesting.

Unlike dollars,
Bitcoin isn't printed.

It's mined.

Think of it like digital gold.

Instead of picks and shovels,
miners use high-powered

computers to solve complex
math puzzles that approve

all Bitcoin transactions.

To incentivize doing this,
miners are rewarded

in brand-new Bitcoins.

And since there'll only ever be
21 million of them,

they're scarce.

Just like real gold,
only online.

Once Bitcoin is mined,
it automatically gets put

in that person's digital wallet.

This wallet lives online
and they can access it

from anywhere or trade it
to other buyers.

But to keep the wallet secure,
it's protected by an extremely

complicated password.

So people usually save
this "key" digitally,

like on a hard drive.

The only problem is,
if you lose the hard drive

or, say, throw it
in the garbage,

you lose access
to your Bitcoin forever,

which is exactly what
happens to James Howells.

Born and raised in Newport,
Wales, James has been tinkering

with computers his whole life.

In 2009, he's working
as a successful IT professional

and living with his girlfriend,
Hafina Eddy-Evans.

One morning, he reads an online
forum about a new thing

called "Bitcoin."

At the time, it's a novelty
currency, perhaps fewer

than 100 people even knew of it.

James finds it intriguing
and decides to give

mining a shot.

Over the next few nights,
his computer produces

roughly 8,000 Bitcoin.

He adds them to a digital
wallet and stores the password

on his laptop's hard drive.

The following year, in 2010,

James spills lemonade
on the laptop.

Whoops!

So he takes the hard drive out
to preserve it and throws it

in a drawer of broken tech.

It's a seemingly
inconsequential moment.

After all, at this time,
Bitcoin is nearly worthless,

so the drive is hardly
a precious object.

But it's this choice that will
forever alter James' destiny.

Fast forward three years later

to January 2013.

Bitcoin, once the plaything
of coders and crypto nerds,

starts climbing in value.

By the end of January,
it's worth about 13 bucks

a coin, but it keeps going.

And by April, a single Bitcoin
is worth $200.

Why is the value rising?

Because Bitcoin is traded
like stocks.

And by 2013, people are
buying it, including big players

like hedge funds
and financial institutions.

In short, the world has
officially taken notice.

James has, too.

He remembers the hard drive
from years earlier that holds

the password to his forgotten
stash of 8,000 Bitcoin,

a drive that he realizes is now
worth over $1.5 million.

That is, if he can find it.

He frantically searches
his home office,

looking high and low, and then
a sickening reality sinks in.

Remember that drive pulled
from his laptop that got thrown

into a drawer of junk?

Well, at some point, James'
girlfriend was cleaning up

the house, gathered a big
pile of what she thought

was junk, including the drive,
and threw it in the trash.

The trash then made its way
to the local landfill,

mixed in with thousands of tons
of household waste.

The simple act of taking out
the trash has become

a million-dollar mistake.

James will embark
on a relentless quest

in a desperate attempt
to reclaim

his thrown-away fortune.

But can the missing Bitcoin
be found?

Computer engineer James Howells
loses a hard drive loaded

with a fortune in Bitcoin,
and it ends up buried deep

in a mountain of waste.

This bizarre twist of digital
fortune quickly becomes

a media sensation
around the world.

James, I'm sure there's
an awful lot of people feeling

for you right now.
How do you feel stood here?

Well, absolutely devastated,
as you can imagine.

When I went up to the landfill
site yesterday,

there's a potential
to find the drive.

Is it still working?

Can the data be recovered?

I have no idea.

I just wish I could go back
in time and not throw

that drive away.

For years, author and
crypto expert Tony Edward

has followed the saga.

When I first heard about
James' story, I was blown away

because the amount of Bitcoin
that he had mined, even certain

institutions don't have
that amount of Bitcoin,

but one individual had that,
and it's life-changing money.

I really feel for James.

This whole situation could have
been avoided if James

wrote down his private keys
on a piece of paper and put it

in a safe
or a safety deposit box.

But he put it on a hard drive,

and that hard drive is
unfortunately lost.

In November of 2013,

he approaches
the Newport City Council

with a plan
to excavate the landfill.

By this point,
his Bitcoin value has jumped

to $6 million, but the council
rejects his plan, even when

he offers to cover the cost
himself, because excavating

a landfill is a serious
environmental risk.

Hazardous waste, methane gas,
possible contamination...

you name it.

And you can imagine the people
in the community are probably

not fans of this either,
because they could be affected

by any type
of environmental risk.

And while I appreciate
what James is trying to do,

because if I were in his shoes,
I would be doing the same thing,

but it's not just
about James.

It's about the community,
and the folks on the council

at the landfill are definitely
thinking about that.

But James isn't ready
to throw in the towel.

He is dead-set on convincing
the council to grant him access

to the site.

He rallies support from hedge
fund backers, offering them

a percentage of the fortune
if he ever recovers

the lost Bitcoin.

Now, armed with ever more
high-tech proposals,

he returns to the council
with a new search approach

featuring drone mapping,

AI-powered waste analysis,

methane containment systems,
and even robotic dogs,

all in the name
of digital treasure.

Then he sweetens the deal,
offering the council

and the town a generous
cut of the profits

potentially worth millions.

The council deliberates,
but again, their answer is no.

By 2023, the value of James'
lost Bitcoin has skyrocketed

to over half a billion dollars.

With polite proposals
getting him nowhere,

he changes tactics,
going full-throttle and filing

a lawsuit against the city
to the tune of $647 million

in US currency.

The gloves are off.

Over the next two years,
the courtroom drama drags on

like a download
over a dial-up connection.

All the while, the value
of James' Bitcoin goes higher

and higher, from hundreds
of millions to approaching

a billion dollars.

But in January of 2025,
a judge pulls the plug,

ruling that James has

"no realistic prospect
of succeeding."

James appeals to the highest
court in the UK, but in March

of 2025, they also say no.

Game over.

Or is it?

So James, over the years,
has been very persistent.

He's trying everything
and anything to gain access

to this landfill.

But up till now,
the council has denied

all of his proposals.

He's lost in the courts.

It's an arduous process.

And so his last-ditch effort is
to try to buy the landfill.

And that way, he can dig it all
up without any red tape

or roadblocks
from the local government.

The city ignores James'
attempts to buy the landfill,

and after his legal actions
failed, now insists James owes

$150,000 in legal fees.

The big question remains...

Even if James were to get
permission, could he actually

find the drive
in all that trash?

On its face,
this is a crazy idea.

To try to go unearth
tons of garbage

and to go through that

and all types of nasty stuff.

This is the biggest
needle-in-the-haystack problem.

One UK waste management company
says the odds of finding

this hard drive is
one in 902 million.

But with the slim chance
of finding that hard drive

and getting access to what
could be billions of dollars

as Bitcoin continues to grow
in value, it's worth it.

But by August of 2025,
with the city council

continuing to ignore
his proposal, James finally

gives up on his bid
to buy the landfill.

But he isn't done with
his quest to make a fortune.

His new plan?

Forget diving through millions
of pounds of garbage.

Instead, he he's going
to create a cryptocurrency

of his own.
Best of luck, James!

Oh, and if your new currency
does take off,

one word of advice, hold on
to your hard drive.

It's 940 B.C.

And as far as traveling
through time

and space goes,
I've hit the jackpot.

I'm currently standing inside
what is perhaps the richest

treasure vault
in human history.

And it all belongs to this guy.

The biblical King Solomon.

We're standing in his palace,
but you might be more familiar

with where all this bling
came from.

King Solomon's mines,
which overflow

with gold and diamonds.

But what's the reality
behind his immense wealth?

Well, for millennia, no one
has found solid evidence

of the legendary mines.
That is, until now.

According to
the Old Testament, Solomon,

the son of King David, ascends
to the throne of Israel

in the 10th century B.C.

The Bible tells us that God
appears to him in a dream

and offers him
anything he desires.

Solomon asks for wisdom
to govern justly.

Pleased with this humble
request, God grants him

exceptional wisdom...

along with great
wealth and honor.

And in 1 Kings, chapter three,
we find the most famous

demonstration of that wisdom.

Two women come before him,
each claiming to be the mother

of the same child.

To reveal the truth,
Solomon proposes

an unthinkable solution,

cutting the baby in two
and giving each woman half.

The real mother immediately
offers to surrender the child

rather than see him harmed,
revealing her

as the true parent.

But according to the Bible,
King Solomon's greatest legacy

isn't just
his legendary wisdom,

but the vast wealth he amasses,

which he uses to construct
the first temple in Jerusalem.

An architectural and spiritual
marvel, the Bible offers

detailed descriptions
of the lavish materials used

in its construction.

Monumental bronze columns
flank the entrance.

A massive ceremonial basin
known as the "Sea of Cast Metal"

adorns the courtyard.

And inside, a sanctuary
with gold-lined walls is said

to have held
the Ark of the Covenant,

the sacred chest containing
the Ten Commandments.

And the temple isn't his only
grand construction.

Solomon reigns from his royal
palace in Jerusalem,

a treasure-filled sanctum
with cedar pillars,

which takes 13 years to build.

And this brings us back
to the incredible source

of his wealth,
King Solomon's mines.

There's just one hiccup.

The Bible makes
no mention of them.

It does make reference to copper
quarrying in the Holy Land

and describes a mysterious
kingdom called Ophir

as a source
of Solomon's wealth.

But the text gives no hint
of Ophir's location

or the legendary gold and
diamond mines we associate

with Solomon today.

In fact, the first time we hear
about actual mines is almost

3,000 years later, in the 1885
novel "King Solomon's Mines,"

by H. Rider Haggard.

The story follows the fictional
exploits of Allan Quatermain,

a hunter hired to lead a search
for Solomon's legendary

source of wealth in Africa.

So, is it all just
a literary invention?

Well, not so fast.

In the 19th century,
European explorers venture deep

into southern Africa in search
of the site of the mines

and stumble upon
something extraordinary,

the massive stone ruins
of Great Zimbabwe,

a mysterious ancient city
surrounded by abandoned

gold mines.

One structure,
the Great Enclosure,

they say, bears similarities
to biblical descriptions

of Solomon's Temple
in Jerusalem.

Suddenly, the world is buzzing
with a thrilling possibility.

Had they found
the lost kingdom of Ophir,

the source of King Solomon's
legendary wealth?

A stunning archaeological find
in Africa, ornate stone ruins

unlike anything seen before,
leads many to believe they've

uncovered the lost city
of Ophir, the legendary source

of King Solomon's mines.

But in time, the site known
as "Great Zimbabwe" is revealed

to not be a relic of Solomon's
empire at all, but the legacy

of the Shona people,
an advanced African

civilization that flourished
around the 11th century,

nearly 2,000 years
after Solomon's reign.

Even so, the myth
refused to fade.

The dream of discovering
the source of Solomon's hidden

riches continued to fuel
imaginations around the world,

which brings us back to
H. Rider Haggard's 1885 novel,

"King Solomon's Mines."

The book is an international
mega-hit, eventually spawning

more than a dozen novels
and at least seven films,

not to mention serving as
a template for "Indiana Jones."

It also inspires a generation
of explorers, many of whom

continue to search
for Solomon's treasure.

Enter Timna Valley,

a rugged, sun-scorched stretch
of desert in southern Israel,

just 200 miles from Jerusalem,

the seat of Solomon's
biblical kingdom.

On the surface, it looks like
little more than rock and sand.

But beneath it?
A very different story.

In the 1930s,
archaeologist Nelson Glueck

discovers massive ancient
copper quarries in the valley.

While the Bible doesn't name
Timna, it does mention

Solomon's extensive use
of copper, which was alloyed

with tin to produce the bronze
used in his temple and palace.

Copper might not sound
glamorous today,

but in the ancient world,
it's a big deal.

Copper is essential to making
tools and weapons.

It is a cornerstone of trade
and the backbone of empires.

Suddenly, Timna isn't just
a pit in the sand...

It's a possible engine
of Solomon's immense wealth.

Nelson Glueck boldly
dubs the site

"The Real
King Solomon's Mines,"

but many dismiss his claims

since he can't produce
definitive evidence to tie

the site to the famed
biblical king.

But here's where things
get interesting.

For years, most scholars
believed the copper mines

at Timna were controlled
by the Egyptians.

After all,
they found Egyptian-style

shrines, hieroglyphs,
even a temple

to the goddess Hathor.

But new radiocarbon dating
flipped that idea on its head.

Turns out the real copper boom
at Timna happened after

the Egyptians left, right
around the 10th century B.C.,

the exact window when
Solomon is said to have ruled.

And the head of the new Timna
excavation effort declares,

quote, "if King Solomon had
mines, they were of copper

and they were here."

The fact that over 10,000
and ancient mine shafts have

been currently identified makes
this a compelling theory.

But can it be proven
that they were Solomon's?

Now, a recent discovery
may settle the question

once and for all.

When it comes
to vanished treasures,

the 12-panel masterpiece known
as the "Ghent Altarpiece" holds

the honor of being the most
stolen artwork in history.

Completed in 1432
for St. Bavo's Cathedral

in Belgium,

it was first snatched
by Napoleon in 1794.

By 1815, six panels were
secretly sold and smuggled

into Berlin.

Yet in both cases,
the artwork was recovered.

Then, in 1934, thieves stole
a single panel, which vanished

without a trace.

In World War II,
Hitler's forces hid

the remaining panels
in a salt mine.

But the Allied art saviors,
known as the "Monuments Men,"

rescued it from destruction.

Today, the 11 recovered
sections once again

grace the cathedral in Ghent.

As for the 12th, it's still
out there, just waiting

to be found.

A new archaeological discovery
in Israel's copper rich

Timna Valley may finally confirm
King Solomon's true

source of wealth.

And they're not the mythical
African diamond mines

from the popular novel.

Archaeologist and professor
Kent Bramlett has been tracking

the latest finds
from the dig site.

Finding proof of King
Solomon's mines would

be dramatic.
It would be sensational.

It would be fantastic.

I think any archaeologist
working in the field would be

delighted with confirming
and finding things associated

with a famous king
like Solomon.

In 2021, the team excavating
at Timna surprised the world.

Archaeologists found artifacts
like tools and architectural

remains and foodstuffs as well.

And this is due to
the extremely dry climate there

that preserves organic remains
that you wouldn't expect

to find in many other locations.

Among the articles
they recover are charcoal

and clay pieces of ancient
smelting furnaces,

proving a massive industrial
operation was underway here.

The archaeologists also find
ancient food waste,

olives, dates, and fish bones.

As anyone who's ever cleaned
out their fridge can relate to,

discovering old food is not
normally a jackpot moment.

But in archaeology, it can be
as good as gold.

Because olives grow and are
eaten within a single season,

their tiny pits
can be radiocarbon dated

with incredible precision.

The pits that were found were
dated with carbon-14 sampling,

and the dates that resulted
fell squarely in the early part

of the 10th century,
the time that, according

to biblical chronology,
King Solomon reigned

in Jerusalem.

Confirming that the mines were
active during King Solomon's

reign is an intriguing
discovery, but then comes

a find that ups the ante
even more.

Near the lower levels
of the excavation,

a number of textiles, I believe
hundreds of fragments

of textiles were found.
And this is very rare.

Textiles usually don't survive.

Among all of the fragments
of textiles found in Timna,

there was a real surprise.

A few had evidence
of royal purple dye.

This was extremely
exciting and unexpected.

In the ancient world,
purple is the color of kings,

emperors, and high priests,
so rare it becomes a symbol

of power and divinity.

Before modern dyeing
techniques, it is made

from Mediterranean Sea snails,
and it takes thousands of them

and a painstaking process
to produce even a gram

of this precious color.

By weight, it was once worth
more than gold.

Finding purple cloth at Timna
certainly indicates that this

isn't an isolated and primitive
mining operation.

It's connected with kingship,
with royalty, most probably.

Royal purple would not be
something that was worn

by local administrators.
So what was it doing there?

Was it the evidence
of a royal visitation?

Was it evidence that we are
connected with kingship

somewhere that is organizing
this mining operation?

Possibly so, probably so.

And the scrap of this fabric
found in Timna, it's the oldest

purple wool discovered
in the region,

dating all the way back
to the 10th century B.C.,

King Solomon's time.

Some say it's even possible
that this could have been worn

by Solomon himself.

King Solomon would undoubtedly
have worn garments dyed

in purple, and Solomon
was possibly involved

with the mining
at the location of Timna.

But one of the challenges in
archaeology is linking specific

remains or finds with specific
people, like King Solomon.

If you want to connect it
with a figure,

you need DNA from that person
to start with.

But King Solomon,
unfortunately, we don't have

even his tomb.

But the evidence is
circumstantial, so it remains

a challenge to connect King
Solomon with an artifact.

Considering that at Timna we've
already found surprising

artifacts like purple cloth,
we can only guess what will be

found in the future.

We hope that its excavation
and research continues,

that more exciting finds
will be found at Timna.

King Solomon's mines may be
more than just a fable

ginned up by
a Victorian era novelist.

Many experts now believe
the Timna copper mines may well

have belonged to Solomon,
and perhaps he even rocked

his royal purple
during a visit.

So it turns out the old adage,
"all that glitters isn't gold,"

is true, especially
when it comes

to King Solomon's
mines of copper.

I'm Josh Gates and I'll see you
on the next expedition.