A Diamond Necklace Tiara Inspired by an Almost-Queen of France

The necklace is a gorgeous piece, made around 1900 by Chaumet in Paris and signed by the firm. Bonhams describes the jewel as a “chain designed as a ribbon of old brilliant and rose-cut diamonds, suspending a fringe of seven drops pavé-set with old brilliant and table-cut, cushion and pear-shaped diamonds, each with a delicate rose-cut diamond laurel-leaf surmount, the stem punctuating a loop of the ribbon, connected by duos of pear-shaped diamonds, mounted in silver and gold.”

The auction house notes that one of the rose-cut diamonds is missing from the necklace, and it’s possible that the drops were altered at some point after the piece’s construction.

The necklace being sold this month is not a piece from any royal collection, but it is inspired by a jewel that was made by Chaumet for a royal lady a few years earlier. In 1896, the artisans at Chaumet were commissioned to make a tiara for Archduchess Maria Dorothea of Austria, a member of the Habsburg dynasty, for her marriage to Prince Philippe, Duke of Orleans, one of the pretenders to the French throne.

Archduchess Maria Dorothea was part of a fascinating family during a fascinating (and tumultuous) period of royal history. Her father, Archduke Joseph Karl Ludwig, was a member of a junior branch of the Habsburg family. His grandfather, Leopold II, was briefly Holy Roman Emperor in the 1790s, and his father, Joseph Anton, served as Palatine of Hungary—essentially the viceroy, or the official representative of the emperor.

Joseph Karl Ludwig was born in Hungary and essentially spent his entire life there. In 1864, he married a German-French princess, Clotilde of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, who was a cousin of both Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, as well as a granddaughter of King Louis Philippe I of France. Joseph Karl Ludwig and Clotilde had seven children, six of whom lived to adulthood. Archduchess Maria Dorothea was their eldest surviving child, born at the family’s country estate, Alcsút Palace, in 1867.

Maria Dorothea’s royal lineage offered her excellent royal connections at the end of the nineteenth century. Her father’s cousin, Emperor Franz Josef, was firmly seated on the Austrian throne. Her maternal uncle Ferdinand was the Tsar of Bulgaria, and a maternal great-uncle, also named Ferdinand, was married to the Queen of Portugal. Her paternal aunt, Marie Henriette, was married to the King of the Belgians. By the time she came of age, she was regularly listed as one of the most beautiful and eligible royal women in the empire. The press often paired her up with purported future spouses, including the nephew of the King of Saxony.

There were even rumors in the papers in 1889, shortly after the scandalous and confusing death of the Austrian crown prince, that Maria Dorothea would be betrothed to the new heir, Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Luckily for her, the rumors weren’t true. She avoided the brutal fate of that marriage, instead becoming engaged to another cousin, the Duke of Orleans, in 1896. They were married at the Hofburg in Vienna that November. (Was the French match ultimately a better landing place for her? You’ll have to judge in a moment.)

In the eyes of many French royalists, Maria Dorothea’s marriage to Philippe made her Queen of France. Philippe was also a great-grandson of King Louis Philippe I of France. His father, also named Philippe, had used the title of Count of Paris until his death in 1894. Those who wished for the House of Orleans to be restored to the French throne considered Maria Dorothea’s new husband to be King Philippe VIII of France. Philippe wasn’t shy about taking on the role of pretender, wearing orders and decorations and even issuing proclamations and political manifestos. (It was all for nothing, of course. The French monarchy was never restored again.)

Truly, Philippe wasn’t shy about anything at all. He was active, regularly seeking out military engagements and thrill-seeking adventures. He was also active in other ways. He had an illegitimate son with a Swiss actress, and he had thwarted one earlier royal match when he was named as a co-respondent in Dame Nellie Melba’s divorce. He liked to challenge boundaries, a personality trait that landed him in jail as a young man after he violated the family’s exile and entered French territory.

It was hoped that Maria Dorothea, who was artistic and sensitive, would act as a moderating influence on her husband. Their wedding in Austria was a glittering affair, attended by a dazzling array of royals, including Emperor Franz Josef of Austria and Queen Amelie of Portugal (a sister of the groom). Queen Victoria sent the Duke of Connaught as her representative.

The British royals had connections to both the bride and the groom. Queen Victoria was a cousin of the bride’s mother, Clotilde, and the Orleans family and the Windsors had socialized frequently during the French royal family’s English exile. (Philippe and several of his siblings were born at York House in Twickenham, and they knew their English counterparts quite well. In the summer of 1890, the Duke of Clarence had fallen very deeply in love with Philippe’s sister, Princess Helene. The Catholicism of the French royals prevented them from marrying.)

As part of her marriage, Maria Dorothea renounced her rights to the Austrian throne and embraced her new role as the Duchess of Orleans. The attire and jewels that Maria Dorothea wore for the wedding underscored her new role as a pretender’s wife. An organization calling themselves the “Royalist Ladies of France” gave the bride a magnificent, diamond-studded crown, which she wore for the wedding ceremony.

She also donned another gift from the same royalist ladies: a white robe richly adorned with gold and silver embroidery. The message was clear: the new Queen has arrived. Back in France, loyalists held a special wedding mass at the Madeleine in Paris, and celebratory services were also held in other cities across the country. The marriage sparked a new surge of energy in the French royalist movement, even leading to agitation in 1899 that was thought by some to have been encouraged, or even directed, by Maria Dorothea herself.

The trappings of Maria Dorothea’s new French royal life included a new convertible diamond tiara, made for her by Chaumet. It was extremely similar in design to the one being sold by Bonhams. (Maria Dorothea’s version was the original; the Bonhams necklace is one of several later copies.) Maria Dorothea wears the tiara setting of her version of the piece in a pair of portraits included in this article, including the image directly below.

Without a throne, and with Philippe viewed very suspiciously by many in the French government, the Duke and Duchess of Orleans led something of a peripatetic life. The marriage quickly proved itself to be dysfunctional, and soon enough it was declared to be a complete disaster. After only a few years of marriage, the Duke and Duchess separated their households. In the summer of 1914, Maria Dorothea sought a divorce in Paris.

The court refused to fully dissolve the marriage, but they granted Maria Dorothea a legal separation, after which she returned to her native Hungary. She also received a grant of spousal support, plus an order that Philippe should return the funds that she brought to the marriage and he subsequently squandered. Always dramatic, Philippe wrote a letter to Maria Dorothea’s uncle, King Ferdinand of Bulgaria, declaring that their marriage had been “the misfortune of [his] life.” Philippe died of pneumonia in Sicily in 1926. Maria Dorothea outlived him by six years, passing away in Hungary in 1932.

Now, Bonhams is leaning on royal provenance by association to drum up interest in the Chaumet jewel that they’ll sell in London on September 21st, setting an estimated price of $150,000-$190,000 USD for the necklace. The “royal bump” is a real thing where auction prices are concerned. But what do you think: can a similar effect be produced when the piece in question is essentially a near copy of a royal jewel rather than the genuine article? We’ll have to see.