The case of the unknown crown

Once upon a time, or so the legend goes, a travelling Journeyman tramping the dusty roads in northern Germany stopped at a farm for a cup of coffee. The farmer’s wife kept her precious coffee beans in a battered leather case that the Journeyman immediately suspected to be quite old indeed. In the musky haze of the kitchen he could discern rich ornaments, and he could clearly see that the worn object was a work of art, more than a simple caddy.

In fact, it was no Journeyman but the wealthy publisher and avid collector Friedrich Culemann who obtained the leather case from the farmer’s wife. The first time the object was described in print was in 1865. Dr Fritz Hahn wrote, prompted by an article in a yearly print from the Society for Antiquities in the Rhineland about the crown and crown-case of Namur: "Mr Senator Culemann owns something like it, a very beautiful crown case, but different from the described. It stems from a Swedish King (I do not recall the name), who had to leave his Fatherland and died in a German Monastery (in Paulinzell in the 13th C, if I am not mistaken). That one is covered with black leather onto which the King’s seal and other decorations are pressed."

In view of that there are preciously few objects left from Birger Jarl’s reign, and certainly no crown (and the crown-case would be a good substitute) the Swedish government was highly interested in obtaining the case. It took 108 years to negotiate the transaction. And it took, obviously, some trouble to do so.

Because of the case’s prominence it never left the Swedish consciousness entirely in the 19th Century. The nationalistic sentiment almost required the case to be “repatriated”. And in 1925 the time was rife to broach the question once again.

“Sweden is no great power and has only six million inhabitants”, the German embassy Counsellor Wipert von Blücher correctly stated in a report to the German Foreign Office. But, he concluded, as a way of paving the way to reassumed good relations after the Great War, it would be beneficial to donate Birger Jarl’s crown-case to Sweden. Nothing happened, however.

Albeit a weak apology, hazy in its sincerity, it meant a temporary stop in repatriating the case to Sweden. While biding the time Dr Monica Rydbeck wrote an essay on the case in 1952 based upon a previous essay by Dr Hans Wentzel from 1941, interleaved with verbal input from Dr Sven Tunberg, followed by an essay by Dr Ernst Schramm in 1956.

Dr Rydbeck also could reveal that there were two other objects in the History Museum in Stockholm that had similar ornamentation: a leather clad box and a church bell cast in bronze. 

When the case had been returned to the Kestner Museum its Director Dr Irmgard Woldering finally, with the blessing of the City council, accepted a quid por quo loan: the crown-case in return for an Irish crozier. Dr Rydbeck, at the point Director of the Medieval Department at the History Museum, suggested the crozier – or a German-made monstrance, if it was more acceptable – as it had no place in the museum’s oeuvre. Dr Thordeman, having risen to Custodian of the National Heritage Board, admitted that he “up until now have dealt with this matter wholly unauthorized”, which meant some red tape to unravel before the transaction could go through. 

Sadly enough, Director Woldering met with Birger Jarl before the deal was executed. And Dr Rydbeck was rapidly nearing her professional nadir. She went in for the kill in May 1972, half a year before retirement. After a visit on site and some negotiation the contract was signed in October 1972. On the 9th of December the newspaper Expressen had a picture of Drs Munro and Rydbeck and the crown case with the text: "Monica Rydbeck has worked many years to get the original to the History Museum. This Friday morning, she received it from the hands of Dr Peter Munro."