Latest / The Story of Poland: A Nation That Refused to Disappear — Fexingo History / The Wawel Treasure: Crown, Jewels, and the Soul of Poland
Transcript
- Lucas: So, Luna, we've talked a lot about Poland's wars and uprisings, but I want to look at something that's almost a character in its own right: the Wawel treasure. The crown jewels, the coronation sword, the regalia—they're not just objects. They're like a physical thread through the nation's story. Luna: Is that the stuff that was looted by the Swedes and then the Prussians and then the Nazis? I've heard it's a mess. Lucas: Exactly. It's a mess of theft, escape, and mystery. Let me start with the most famous piece: the Szczerbiec—the jagged sword. It's the coronation sword of Polish kings, used from the 14th century onward. The name means 'notched' or 'jagged,' and legend says Bolesław the Brave notched it by striking the Golden Gate of Kiev in 1018. The actual sword we have is probably 13th-century, but it's still the only surviving piece of the medieval Polish crown jewels. Luna: Wait, 'only surviving'? What happened to the rest? Lucas: A lot of it was destroyed or melted down. But let's go back to the heyday. The Wawel treasury in Kraków held the Piast coronation crown, the crown of Casimir the Great, and later the Jagiellonian crowns. These were used in coronations from 1320 onward. They were kept in the Wawel Cathedral, in a special vault. And during the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth, the treasures grew—tapestries, chalices, royal regalia from across Europe. Lucas: Then came the Deluge—the Swedish invasion of 1655–1660. King John II Casimir fled Wawel, and the Swedes plundered the castle. They took the crown jewels, the tapestries, and anything valuable. Some were recovered later, but many pieces were lost. The Swedish army literally melted down the Piast crown for gold. That's why so little remains. Luna: So the Szczerbiec survived that? How? Lucas: It was hidden. The treasurer of the Crown, a man named Jan Kazimierz Krasiński, managed to smuggle it out along with some other pieces. They were secretly moved to Jasna Góra monastery in Częstochowa—the same place that held off the Swedes. So the sword was saved by the same shrine that became a symbol of resistance. Luna: And then what? After the Deluge, did they bring it back? Lucas: Partially. The Szczerbiec returned to Wawel, and it was used again in the coronation of John II Casimir's successors. But the treasury never fully recovered. Then came the partitions. In 1795, after the Third Partition, the Prussians marched into Kraków and officially looted the Wawel treasury. They took everything—including the Szczerbiec, the coronation crown of Augustus III, and many other regalia. They were sent to Berlin and later to a museum in Königsberg. Luna: So the Prussian army just walked in and took the crown jewels? That seems so... Victorian. Lucas: It was systematic. The Prussian king Frederick William II ordered it. They were seen as trophies of conquest. The Polish crown was actually destroyed in 1809, when Napoleon's forces were advancing and the Prussians feared it would be recaptured. They melted down the crown and other pieces. The Szczerbiec survived because it was already in a museum collection by then. It was kept in Berlin until after World War I. Luna: So the sword had a Berlin period. Lucas: Exactly. And it wasn't just the Prussians. The Austrians, who took Kraków in the First Partition, also looted some treasures. So the regalia were scattered across the Habsburg Empire, Prussia, and Russia. Lucas: Now, a crucial moment: 1925. After Poland regained independence, the government negotiated with the Soviet Union for the return of Polish cultural treasures. They got back the Szczerbiec and a few other pieces. It was a huge deal. The sword was placed in the Wawel Castle museum, and it became a symbol of Poland's resurrection. Luna: And then World War II. Did the Nazis get it? Lucas: They tried. But the Polish curators were prepared. In September 1939, as the Germans invaded, they secretly evacuated the Wawel treasures. The Szczerbiec, the coronation regalia, and the famous Wawel tapestries were crated up and sent down the Vistula river, then hidden in a vault in a monastery in Sandomierz. Later they were moved to a castle in Łańcut, and finally to a secret location in France. They spent the war in a bank vault in Aubazine, near Limoges. Luna: Wait, the Nazis didn't find them? That's incredible. Lucas: They got close. The Gestapo even interrogated the curators, but nobody cracked. The treasures returned to Wawel in 1946. So the Szczerbiec has survived Swedish looting, Prussian destruction, and Nazi search parties. It's almost miraculous. Luna: But the original crown is still gone, right? What's on display now? Lucas: What you see at Wawel today is a replica. In the 1920s, the Polish government commissioned a set of replica crowns and regalia for ceremonial use. They were based on historical descriptions, but they're not the originals. The originals were either melted down or lost. There's even a story that the original Piast crown was hidden somewhere in the Wawel hill, but it's never been found. Luna: I've heard about a hidden treasure under Wawel. Is that the same as the Wawel Chakra? Lucas: Oh, the Wawel Chakra is a different thing entirely. That's a modern myth—a new age belief that Wawel is a source of spiritual energy, one of the seven chakras of the world. It has nothing to do with the crown jewels. But the legend of hidden treasure is real. There have been several excavations, none successful. In the 19th century, people dug tunnels under Wawel looking for the Piast crown and the legendary golden duck of Kraków—but that's another story. Luna: Let's stay on the real treasure. What about the tapestries? You mentioned them. Lucas: The Wawel tapestries are a separate treasure. They're a collection of over 130 Flemish tapestries commissioned by King Sigismund II Augustus in the 16th century. They're enormous—some are 10 metres wide—and they depict biblical scenes, landscapes, and mythical creatures. They were also evacuated in 1939 and spent the war in Canada, actually. They were sent to Ottawa for safekeeping and returned in 1961. Luna: Canada? That's a twist. Lucas: Yes, the Canadian government stored them in a vault. They were part of the largest cultural evacuation in Polish history. And they came back intact. So the tapestries survived Sweden, the partitions, and the Nazis. Luna: It's amazing that any of this exists at all. I mean, the jewels of so many nations were just melted down. Lucas: And that's exactly why the Szczerbiec is so precious. It's a physical link to a thousand-year-old tradition. When you see it in the Wawel museum, you're looking at the same blade that crowned kings from the 14th century—maybe even from Bolesław the Brave. It's got nicks and scratches, and it's not even a perfect weapon. But it's real. Luna: And the replicas? Do people care about them the same way? Lucas: That's a sensitive topic. In 1925, when the Szczerbiec returned, it was paraded through Kraków like a hero. The replicas are appreciated as symbols, but they don't have the same aura. There's even a debate about whether the crown used in the 1920s replica is authentic or just a copy. Some historians think the original crown might have been hidden earlier and never recovered. Luna: So there could be a Polish crown still buried somewhere under Wawel Hill. Lucas: It's possible. In 2016, there was an excavation using ground-penetrating radar that found a void under the castle. But nothing was recovered. The legend persists. Luna: I love that. A secret under the castle. It's like something out of a novel. Lucas: It feels like that, doesn't it? But the real story is even more dramatic. The Wawel treasure is not just about gold and jewels. It's about identity. When the Prussians melted down the crown, they were trying to erase Poland. When the Polish curators hid the treasures from the Nazis, they were fighting back. And when the Szczerbiec returned in 1925, it was a statement: we are still here. Luna: That's the same spirit we've seen in so many episodes—the refusal to disappear. Lucas: Exactly. And it's not just about the big political events. It's about the objects themselves. They carry the memories. And if you've been following these conversations with us—about Poland's uprisings, its culture, its language—you might feel that connection too. This show is ad-free and listener-supported, and people who find value in these deep dives sometimes contribute to keep it going. If that's you, you can do that at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. All lowercase. And it genuinely helps us keep doing the research and telling these stories. Luna: Yeah, it feels like a way to actively preserve history, in a small way. Lucas: It does. So, back to the treasure. One more detail I love: the Szczerbiec has a hole in the blade. Legend says it was made by a nail from the True Cross, which was embedded in the sword. That's a medieval touch that makes it even more extraordinary. Luna: A holy relic sword. That's the kind of thing that makes history tangible. Lucas: And it's still there, on display in Kraków. If you ever visit Wawel, you can see it. It's in the Crown Treasury room, behind glass, with the replica crowns beside it. And you realise: these objects have seen everything Poland has been through. Luna: I'd love to see that. Maybe one day. Lucas: I hope you do. And in the meantime, we've got the story. That's what matters.