Schoolboy's 70-Year Secret Returns to Glastonbury Abbey

Sometimes the guilt of childhood mischief follows us for a lifetime, and one English schoolboy carried his secret across continents for 70 years.

In 1956, 11-year-old George Box visited Glastonbury Abbey in Somerset, England during an archaeological dig. While excavators worked to unearth remains of 13th-century abbots, young Box slipped away unnoticed and pocketed a kneecap from the dig, plus a shard of medieval tile.

"Both things are very easy to pick up and put in a pair of schoolboy shorts," explains Lucy Newman, the abbey's collections manager. Nobody at the abbey even knew the bone was missing until last year.

Box, described by his widow as "a bit of a scallywag," never lost his fascination with the artifacts. He kept them through adulthood and brought them when he moved to Australia in 1970, displaying them proudly in a glass cabinet alongside fossils and other curiosities.

But as Box aged, he and his wife agreed the stolen treasures should return home. He just didn't want it to happen while he was still alive, likely out of embarrassment.

When Box died, his widow made good on their promise. This summer, while scattering her husband's ashes in his hometown of Brent Knoll, she returned the kneecap to Glastonbury Abbey after 70 years.

Box didn't just send the artifacts back carelessly. He crafted a special wooden box for their journey home, designed to look like the medieval reliquaries that once held saints' bones and precious items.

Abbey staff investigated which abbot the kneecap belonged to and narrowed it down to three possibilities: Abbot Amesbury, Abbot Petherton, or Abbot John of Taunton, all of whom died between 1250 and 1290. But since all three have been reburied, staff decided not to risk damaging the graves to solve the mystery.

Sunny's Take

What makes this story beautiful isn't just the return of stolen artifacts. It's that Box never threw away his childhood trophy or forgot about it.

His lifelong love of archaeology turned a moment of schoolboy mischief into a tender act of respect. For decades, he cared for these medieval treasures, even building them a proper container for their final journey.

The kneecap's anonymous medieval owner traveled further after death than they ever could have imagined, reaching a land completely unknown to 13th-century monks. Now the bone rests in the abbey museum, where visitors can see it and learn its remarkable story.

One small act of conscience brought history home.