When Jewels Became History: The Lost Treasures of the Louvre

The Emerald Necklace and Earrings of Empress Marie Louise

When Napoleon Bonaparte wed the Austrian Archduchess Marie Louise of Austria in 1810, he commissioned a fine emerald-and-diamond jewelry set to mark the union. The surviving pieces, a necklace and matching earrings, ended up in the Louvre, a glittering testament to the empire’s reach. The emeralds, mined in Colombia’s Muzo region, shimmer with a rare green intensity, while the diamonds offer crisp brilliance. The museum acquired them in the early 2000s.

Wearing them, Marie Louise embodied the link between Napoleon’s France and Habsburg Austria. Today, their loss is far more than financial—it’s a break in the chain of history. It’s the kind of jewel-set that becomes a mirror of the nation and empire.

The Sapphire Tiara, Necklace, and Earring of Queens Marie-Amélie and Hortense

The sapphire parure linked two remarkable women across changing regimes: Marie-Amélie (Maria Amalia of Naples and Sicily), the last queen of the French, and Hortense de Beauharnais, Napoleon’s stepdaughter, Queen of Holland, and mother of Napoleon III. The set was acquired by the Louvre in 1985. The tiara alone features 24 deep-blue Ceylon sapphires and over 1,000 diamonds. Accompanying the tiara was a matching necklace, eight large sapphires alternating with diamonds, designed to sit high on the neckline for formal evening wear.

This piece encapsulates mid-19th-century taste: the sober elegance of blue gems paired with dynamic sparkle. Its removal in the heist again severs a historical thread: royal women photographed wearing it, social seasons marked by its appearance, the quiet shift from monarchies to modern states. One of the earrings from this parure was left behind by the thieves.

The Diadem of Empress Eugénie

Empress Eugénie de Montijo, wife of Napoleon III, was a paragon of Second Empire elegance. One of the stolen items is her diadem, set with nearly 2,000 diamonds and hundreds of pearls. The grandeur of the piece matched the imperial ambition of its time.

Eugénie wore this tiara at state balls and international exhibitions; it reflects not only jewelry artistry but diplomatic theatre. The loss of the diadem, therefore, is the loss of multiple narratives: design, gender, power, and diplomacy.

The Bodice-Bow Brooch of Empress Eugénie

Another piece from Eugénie’s ensemble is a large brooch shaped like a bow, designed by Francois Kramer. Originally part of a belt shown at the 1855 Paris Exposition and later reworked into a corsage ornament.

Its transformation, from belt to brooch, mirrors changes in fashion. Shortly after this transformation, the brooch was purchased by the jeweler Emile Schlesinger for Caroline Astor. From then on, it changed hands several times, and it took more than 100 years for the Empress’s bow brooch to make its way back to the Louvre in 2008.

The Reliquary Brooch of Empress Eugénie

Finally, the so-called “reliquary” brooch: chandelier-like, diamond-laden, was made for Eugénie by Paul-Alfred Bapst in 1855. Perhaps a vestige of piety or a clever marketing flourish in empire-era jewelry design, especially since it is not clear where the relic could be stored in the brooch.

The brooch evokes religion, display, and political identity: an empress’s adornment, a museum’s trophy. Its disappearance is symbolic—the smaller, less flamboyant piece may attract less attention than a tiara, but its cultural importance is equally rich.

The Crown of Empress Eugénie

While the thieves originally grabbed this piece as well, they lost it during their flight. It was damaged, but has been returned to the Louvre. The Crown of Empress Eugénie was the glittering centerpiece of France’s Second Empire. Commissioned for the 1855 Paris Exposition, it dazzled with over 1,000 diamonds and over 50 luminous emeralds set in delicate gold leaves and laurel motifs.

Though Eugénie never wore it for a coronation, she famously donned it at state occasions, where it symbolized both imperial power and the refined femininity she embodied. The crown was designed by Alexandre-Gabriel Lemonnier, her favored jeweler, whose craftsmanship balanced opulence with grace.

It Is Not the End

It’s easy to get caught up in the cinematic suspense of the Louvre heist—the speed, the stealth, the astonishment. But perhaps it’s more satisfying to linger on the French crown jewels themselves: creations that once embodied love, ambition, and sheer splendor. Whether they resurface in an attic, a private vault, or a detective’s lucky find, they’ve already secured their place in history’s sparkle file. And until they return, we can imagine them glittering still, somewhere out there, telling their royal stories in whispers of emerald green and sapphire blue.