Original subtitles

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.