Empress Eugénie’s Crown

Empress Eugenie's crown, by Alexandre-Gabriel Lemonnier © RMN, Musée du Louvre / Stéphane Maréchalle

I have a thousand voices in my head at all times. 1,410 to be exact. Not including myself, of course. We are all separate, but all one. I don’t really know how to explain how it works; it just does. Sometimes it gets exhausting, but most of the time, we all live in harmony. We’ve all been together for years. The cacophony of 1,354 Diamonds and 56 Emeralds was really difficult to get used to in the first 50 years or so, but after about 150 years, we’ve learned to work well together, and most of the time, we agree. 

In the beginning, we would argue a lot. I, the crown, was created first, and then the gemstones were added to me. The royal lifestyle was all I ever knew, but my gemstones experienced life before I did. Most of my Diamonds and Emeralds had been taken from lands that suffered. They used to resent that they were brought here; that they would never feel the cool earth they once called home again. When we were first acquainted, they would lament how they wanted to go home, often bitter and homesick. Over time, however, the gemstones eventually accepted that life in the hands of royalty was much better than deep underground. It's definitely better than being manhandled by rough hands that saw them only as loot, to be plundered and sold off.

But now, I understand how they felt back in the early days. In the grand museum we are forced to call home, we have been stripped from the lavish lifestyle we once had… reduced to little purpose other than to just sit here. People come to adore us all day long; our one job these days is to sit and look pretty. That has always been our purpose, but years ago, we were worn. I really miss those days. We all do.

            We haven’t been touched in so long… sighs Diamond 786. Everyone else chimes in with agreement. Every once in a while, we are checked by conservators and curators to ensure we are looking our best, but that doesn’t compare to what life used to be like. We all admit we yearn for the luxurious life we used to have: attending balls, getting pulled into fancy hairdos, and sparkling in the light. Now, we sit. Nothing really luxurious about that.

It’s a quiet morning at the museum; slightly too early for visitors. Two security guards stood quietly in the corners of the room. One of the things we hate the most about being here is the silence around us. When we lived with royalty, there was always something fun going on, but here, it is almost always silent. And when it's silent, it makes it easier for the Diamonds and Emeralds to act up and get chatty.

            Who will be the most interesting visitor today? Emerald 4 asks.

            I bet we’ll see a woman wearing something scandalous today! Can you believe women wear trousers these days? Even worse– shorts! Diamond 1,075 exclaims.

            That’s not even interesting anymore. We’ve seen women wear trousers for the last 50 years. What is weird is how people are dyeing their hair blue! I would not want to be worn on those heads! That would totally clash with us, says Emerald 52

            Fashion is different these days, you all know this. We shouldn’t outright judge people like this, I scold. As royalty, we have to be gracious to everyone.

            Hardly royalty, just sitting here! Anyways, who cares? It's not like anyone else can hear us, says Diamond 113.

            It is not about who can hear us; it is about our presence. If we think negative thoughts, it will show on the outside. You wouldn’t want to become a cloudy diamond, would you?

My reply makes everyone quiet down, but only a little. I shouldn’t scold everyone; sometimes, judging visitors is our only way to stay sane. At the same time, we are still royalty, and we should act like it!

            I’m sorry if I seem a little uptight, but we have to remember who we are. We’ve come a long way from– A loud crash interrupts me.

            Mon Dieu! What is that?

It’s hard to think when all 1,354 Diamonds and 56 Emeralds are audibly scared and confused. The guards run away. Where are they going? Something’s wrong. Two men approach our display case. Another loud crash! The curators would never do something like this! Other jewelry and gems in our display are stuffed into a bag. Suddenly, we are ripped out of our display case by reckless hands.

            How dare they touch us! Get your disgusting hands off! I shout, but the thieves don’t seem to hear me. No human seems to.

Finally, some adventure! Do you think we are being returned to royalty? Oh, how I’ve waited for a day like this! Exclaims Diamond 855. A thousand other voices chime in with excitement.

I disagree. This isn’t right! We shouldn’t be manhandled like this! Where is the respect for royalty these days?

            Just be happy we are finally experiencing something new for once!

I’ve been craving a change in routine so badly, but that doesn’t mean we should be robbed of our authority and the little autonomy we have! Wait- robbed… we are actively getting stolen! For some reason, we are not shoved into a bag; the robbers are in such a hurry they don’t even bother to protect us! Absolutely no respect whatsoever!

In the hands of the thief, we go through the window and down a ladder.

            Ouch! The thieves have no care for our well-being at all. Putain! I feel my arches and palmettes bending and cracking under the tight grip of the thief. 

I call out, is everyone okay? A myriad of excited voices reply to my concerns.

            Finally, we are being rescued! The Diamonds cheer. The day we’ve been longing for, for the last 170 years! We will be returned to our homelands!

            What?! Is that really what you think is happening? We are getting stolen– damaged! This is not thievery for reparations! This is bad! Do you see how they are treating us? I shout to everyone, but I am ignored.

As we rapidly approach the bottom of the ladder, the thief’s grip gets tighter and bends the gold even more. I ache with pain. The gemstones cheer. Do the Diamonds and Emeralds not feel the same soreness I do?

People shout from the street as the thieves meet up with two other men on scooters. I hear an alarm sounding in the distance. The thief gets onto the back of the scooter and squeezes us tighter as the driver speeds off. We are squeezed so tight that one of my beautiful golden eagles cracks from the band. Our captor notices and fiddles with the eagle, which makes things worse. The crack gets bigger and–

            “Merde!” says the thief as he drops us. We clatter to the ground.

            Merde! Aïe! Ça fait mal! I can’t begin to describe the pain I am in. The Diamonds and Emeralds shout in confusion. As we lay in the street, I try to take in everything that’s happened and check in with my gemstones. I am so worried, I don’t even think to say “I told you so”.

            How is everyone doing? Is anyone hurt? There is a lot of chatter, but I am missing replies from some of the Diamonds. None of the other gemstones appears to hear them either. It's hard to assess our damage, since all I can feel is the ache in my arches and palmettes as they lie on the street, crushed, with my cap deflated. I look around and see a Paris I’ve never seen before, but it feels familiar, like home. While we lie on the cool earth the gemstones once pined for, there is an uncertain stillness among us. All emeralds are accounted for, but ten Diamonds have yet to reply.

            I think they’re gone, an Emerald whispers.

Despite the frightened chatter from the 1,400 other gemstones, it seems much quieter than before.

Noelle Claassen is a recent student on the 2025-2026 MA Museum Studies programme at the University of Leicester. This piece was submitted for our Museums and Knowledge module, in which we are encouraged to challenge conventional modes of knowledge creation. We hope you have enjoyed something a little different from our usual programming!