11 Rediscovered Treasures from Museum Collections

With vast collections numbering in the millions, museums sometimes misplace or misidentify items. However, it's always a delight when these lost treasures are found again. Here are a few remarkable examples of artifacts and specimens that were once lost, only to be rediscovered in museum collections.

1. Beetles Collected by David Livingstone

In October 2014, while exploring the collections at the Natural History Museum in London, Max Barclay came across a wooden box containing 20 beetles, each pinned with a label that read 'Zambezi coll. by Dr. Livingstone.' This referred to Dr. David Livingstone, who gathered these insects during his groundbreaking Zambezi expedition from 1858 to 1864—the first European journey to explore Lake Malawi in Africa. Barclay, the museum's collections manager for Coleoptera and Hymenoptera, remarked that the museum's vast beetle collection, with nearly 10 million specimens accumulated over centuries, made the discovery even more thrilling: 'Having worked here for more than a decade, I was astounded and excited to find these well-preserved beetles, brought back from Africa almost 150 years ago to the day.'

The beetles were part of a collection of 15,000 insects bequeathed to the museum by Edward Young Western, a lawyer and amateur entomologist, upon his death in 1924. It's believed he may have acquired them at a natural history auction in the 1860s, possibly from a member of the expedition. Although the specimens technically belonged to the government, they were never published, making their quiet sale relatively easy at the time.

These beetles are more than just an intriguing discovery; they hold significant scientific value. As Barclay explained, the historical specimens allow researchers to study how changing environments have impacted plants and animals across the globe.

2. A 6,500-Year-Old Human Skeleton

Janet Monge, the curator of physical anthropology at the Penn Museum in Philadelphia, had always known of the mystery skeleton, stored in a wooden box in the basement. It had been there as long as she had, but its true importance remained unclear until 2014, when researchers began digitizing records from Sir Leonard Woolley’s 1929-30 excavation at Ur in southern Iraq.

While working on the Ur digitization project, William Hafford and his team discovered records showing which artifacts from Woolley’s excavation ended up in which museums. The press release revealed that half of the items were retained by Iraq, while the other half was divided between the British Museum and the Penn Museum, the two institutions that funded the dig. Among the listed objects were 'one tray of ‘mud of the flood’ and ‘two skeletons.’' Further investigation of the museum's records showed that one of these skeletons, labeled 31-17-404, had been considered 'pre-flood' and was found in a stretched position. It had been marked 'not accounted for' since 1990.

Woolley’s field notes featured photographs of the archaeologist carefully removing an Ubaid skeleton in one piece, coating it in wax, supporting it with a wooden frame, and lifting it using a burlap sling, as detailed by the museum. Monge mentioned to Hafford that she didn’t have any records of such a skeleton but did have a mysterious one stored in a box. Once the box was opened, it became clear that the 6,500-year-old skeleton was indeed the one excavated by Woolley.

The skeleton, identified as having belonged to a robust middle-aged man, around 5 feet 8 inches to 5 feet 10 inches tall, has been named Noah. This name reflects his existence after a major flood that submerged southern Iraq.

3. Barnacles from Charles Darwin

In the years leading up to the publication of *On the Origin of Species*, Charles Darwin exchanged letters with Japetus Steenstrup, who was the head of Denmark's Royal Natural History Museum (which would later become the Zoological Museum). In November 1849, Steenstrup lent Darwin a set of fossilized barnacles to aid in his research for *Species*. When Darwin received the barnacles in January 1850, he expressed his gratitude, writing, 'It is a noble collection, & I feel most grateful to you for having entrusted them to me. I will take great care of your specimens.' According to the History Blog, when the packages were delayed, Darwin was so anxious that he placed an ad in the newspaper offering a reward for their return.

While reviewing the correspondence between the two scientists, Hanne Strager, head of exhibitions at the Natural History Museum of Denmark, discovered a letter in which Darwin mentioned sending a list of 77 additional barnacles as a gift when he returned the borrowed specimens to Steenstrup in 1854. This list was found in Steenstrup's archives, leading the museum to locate 55 of the barnacles with their original labels. This was no easy task, as the barnacles had been scattered across the museum’s collections over time. As the History Blog points out, there was no reason to keep them together—*On the Origin of Species* was still five years away, and the barnacles were simply regarded as specimens, not a curated collection by a pioneering scientist. Most of the missing barnacles belong to a single genus, and were likely lent out but never returned.

Numerous specimens collected by Darwin have been lost and rediscovered, including a beetle he found during his expedition to Argentina (which was named *Darwinilus sedarisi* in his honor 180 years later), a taxidermied tortoise he kept as a pet from the Galapagos, and a Tinamou bird egg he gathered on the HMS *Beagle* voyage.

4. The Earliest Tyrannosaurid

This exceptionally well-preserved fossil was discovered in Gloucestershire, England, in 1910 and eventually ended up in the Natural History Museum of London in 1942. For many years, it was misclassified as a new species of *Megalosaurus*, but it was later identified as a previously unknown genus and named *Proceratosaurus*. In 2009, using computed tomography scans, scientists determined that this dinosaur is the earliest known relative of the Tyrannosauridae family, dating back around 165 million years.

"If you look at [*Proceratosaurus*] in detail, it has the same kinds of windows in the side of the skull for increasing the jaw muscles," Angela Milner, associate keeper of paleontology at the Natural History Museum, told the BBC. "It has the same kinds of teeth—particularly at the front of the jaws. They're small teeth and almost banana-shaped, which are just the kind of teeth *T. rex* has. Inside the skull, which we were able to look at using CT scanning, there are lots of internal air spaces. *Tyrannosaurus* had those as well."

"This is a one-of-a-kind specimen," Milner remarked. "It’s the only one of its kind known to exist anywhere in the world."

5. A Long-Beaked Echidna

Until last year, scientists believed that the endangered, egg-laying long-beaked echidna had been extinct in Australia for over 11,000 years. However, the Natural History Museum in London made a surprising discovery from its collections. A specimen, tagged as being collected in Australia in 1901, was found. The handwriting on the tag matched that of naturalist John Tunney, who had visited North West Australia to gather specimens for Lord Walter Rothschild’s private collection (Rothschild reportedly kept common echidnas and other exotic creatures as pets).

The only known population of long-beaked echidnas resides in the forests of New Guinea. This finding raises the possibility that the species may not be extinct in Australia, but instead could be living undetected in remote areas of the continent. The region where Tunney collected the specimen remains so difficult to access that reaching certain parts of it requires a helicopter. Scientists are now planning expeditions to search for the long-beaked echidna. "Discovering a species we thought had been extinct for thousands of years, and finding out it’s still alive—that would be the greatest news ever," said Roberto Portela Miguez, curator of mammals at the Natural History Museum in London, in an interview with iTV.

6. Alfred Russel Wallace's Butterflies

Interns often find themselves burdened with mundane tasks, and at first glance, Athena Martin seemed to be another one of those interns. During her four-week internship at the Oxford University Museum of Natural History, the 17-year-old was assigned the daunting job of sorting through 3340 drawers filled with butterflies, searching for specimens collected by Alfred Russel Wallace, the Victorian naturalist who independently developed the theory of evolution and natural selection alongside Darwin. While the museum knew Wallace’s specimens were among its collection, it had no idea which specific specimens were his or what species he had collected.

Martin's task was far from easy. She had to carefully read the tiny, handwritten labels next to each butterfly specimen, but her persistence paid off: She uncovered 300 specimens collected by Wallace, including a *Dismorphia* butterfly Wallace had gathered during his Amazon expedition from 1848 to 1852. This find was particularly significant because, during his return journey, Wallace’s boat had caught fire, causing most of his specimens to be lost at sea. 'I was a bit confused when I first found the Amazon specimen,' Martin said in a press release, 'because I thought there might have been a labeling error due to the unusual location in comparison to the other specimens I was finding. It wasn't until I showed the specimen to [my supervisor James Hogan] that I found out it was from the Amazon.'

Wallace’s specimens weren’t the only ones to be lost and rediscovered: In 2011, Daniele Cicuzza from the Cambridge University Herbarium found a collection of fern specimens—33 species across 22 genera and 17 families—that Wallace had gathered on Gunung Muan Mountain in Borneo.

7. A Bear Claw Necklace from the Lewis and Clark Expedition

Sometimes, cataloging stored items can lead to unexpected discoveries, as two collections assistants at Harvard’s Peabody Museum experienced in 2003. While photographing artifacts in the Oceania storage rooms, they stumbled upon a well-preserved grizzly bear claw necklace. To their surprise, they soon realized the necklace had been misidentified—it wasn’t from the Pacific Islands at all. After further investigation, they determined that it was actually from the Lewis and Clark expedition of 1804-1806, one of only seven surviving Native American artifacts known to have been brought back by the explorers. It had been missing since its cataloging in 1899.

The main objective of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark's two-year expedition from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean was to map the newly acquired Louisiana Purchase. However, they also studied the region’s plant and animal life and sought to establish relationships with Native American tribes. During one such encounter, the explorers likely received the bear claw necklace, a gift that was probably presented by a Native American chief. 'Bear claw necklaces, which symbolize the bravery and status of warriors, were highly valued by Indigenous peoples,' Gaylord Torrence, curator of Native American art at the Nelson Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City, noted in a press release. 'They are rare from any era. The newly rediscovered bear claw necklace from the Lewis and Clark expedition is likely the earliest surviving example in existence.'

The necklace, which contains 38 bear claws, had a complicated journey before reaching the Peabody Museum. After the expedition, it was donated to the Peale Museum in Philadelphia. When the Peale closed in 1848, the necklace was transferred to the Boston Museum, which was owned by the Kimball family. Following a fire in 1899 that damaged the museum, 1400 items were moved to the Peabody Museum at Harvard, including the bear claw necklace. However, the Kimball family had a change of heart and decided to keep the necklace, despite the fact that the Peabody had already cataloged it. In 1941, a descendant of the Kimball family donated the necklace to the Peabody, where it was mistakenly cataloged as an artifact from the South Pacific Islands.

8. Insect Fossils from the Jurassic

In the 1800s, geologist Charles Moore unearthed hundreds of fossils from sites in southwest England, including the Strawberry Bank quarry near Ilminster. Moore’s collection, which contained as many as 4000 specimens, was purchased by the Bath Royal Literary and Scientific Institution (BRLSI) in 1915, 34 years after his death. Some of the collection, however, was given to the Museum of Somerset (then the Somerset Archaeological and Natural History Society), where it was stored away and forgotten for nearly a century. In 2011, these specimens—including insect fossils from the Jurassic period—were rediscovered when the BRLSI received a grant to restore Moore’s collection. 'These packages haven't been unwrapped since 1915, and some still have wrappings dating back to 1867, so it’s thrilling to open them for the first time,' Matt Williams, collections manager at the BRLSI, told the BBC. 'Among them, I’ve been finding previously unknown specimens from Strawberry Bank.'

9. A Juvenile Human's Mandible

In 2002, as the Field Museum of Natural History's anthropology department was reorganizing its European archaeological collections, a juvenile mandible was discovered among the items. The mandible had been recovered from Solutré, an Upper Paleolithic site first excavated in 1866. Though it had been unearthed in 1896, it had not been noticed until the 2002 cataloging. Upon closer inspection in 2003, the pieces were analyzed and, according to a study published in Paleo, 'The specimen consists of roughly 60 percent of a juvenile mandible, broken post-mortem into two fragments … The individual’s age range is estimated at 6.7 to 9.4 years, with an average of 8.3 years.' Radiocarbon dating revealed that the mandible was much more recent than the soil in which it was found, dating from between 240 AD and 540 AD. The paper concluded, 'It is likely that the mandible represents a much later burial that intruded into genuine Upper Paleolithic strata... Though this discovery reduces the significance of the specimen itself, it provides useful insights into the nature and stratigraphy of Solutré's archaeological levels as represented in the collections at the Field Museum of Natural History.'

10. An Emperor Penguin

Photographs taken in the early 1900s show a striking emperor penguin on display at the University of Dundee’s D’Arcy Thompson Zoology Museum. The penguin survived the demolition of the old museum in the 1950s, only to vanish later. It reappeared in the 1970s, where it became the mascot for the Dundee University Biology Society. The penguin was taken on nights out and even used as a prop in bars where the students gathered. However, the penguin's wild nightlife took its toll, and by the 1980s, its condition had deteriorated to the point where it was sent to a natural history museum for restoration. But, it disappeared once again.

The penguin wasn’t found again until three decades later, when it was discovered in The McManus: Dundee’s Art Gallery and Museum collection in April 2014. 'We’ve finally managed to complete the planned conservation work, and our penguin looks as good as new in its new home at the D’Arcy Thompson Zoology Museum,' said Matthew Jarron, the museum’s curator of museum services, in a press release. The penguin was promptly returned to the display.

11. A Tlingit War Helmet

While selecting items for the 2013 exhibition 'People of the Northwest Coast' at the Springfield Science Museum in Massachusetts, curator of anthropology Ellen Savulis stumbled upon a fascinating artifact. It was cataloged as an 'Aleutian hat' in the records, a beautifully carved piece of dense wood. However, Savulis couldn't find any matching details about Aleutian-made hats that would explain this particular object. So, she reached out to Steve Henrikson, the curator of collections at the Alaska State Museum in Juneau. Upon reviewing images, Henrikson quickly identified it as a war helmet created by the Tlingit people from southwest Alaska. Based on its intricate decorations, Henrikson estimated it was crafted in the mid-19th century or earlier.

The helmet had been part of the museum's collection since after 1899, though it was misidentified as an 'Aleutian hat' and recorded under that name in the museum’s records. It was only in the 1930s that it received a permanent collection number and was placed in storage, where it remained until Savulis uncovered it. 'It’s extremely rare,' Henrikson said in a press release about the discovery. 'There are fewer than 100 known Tlingit war helmets in existence, and after studying them for over 20 years, I’m confident that I’ve seen most of them.'