The Hope Diamond: Nelson Coleman Jewelers' Brush with Fate

What do a three-time Olympic gold medalist and actress, the most famous diamond in the world, and Nelson Coleman Jewelers have in common? For a few days in 1952, they converged in a series of events that have contributed to the mysterious history of the Hope Diamond.

It’s March 6, 1952, and Nelson Coleman, the founder of Nelson Coleman Jewelers, was about to have a brush with fame and destiny. His store at the time was called Doederlein Jewelers, a remnant of the founder Adolph Doederlein, who was known as “The Keeper of the Clocks” in Munich’s Royal Court in the 1850s.

Doederlein Jewelers was located on Charles Street in downtown Baltimore, a premier shopping district in mid-century North America with an assortment of jewelers, furriers, silversmiths, dress and clothing shops, stationers, hairdressers, and restaurants within three square blocks. In many ways, it rivaled the popular shopping districts of New York City and Paris, France.

By this time, Nelson Coleman Jewelers had established a reputation and legacy of trust, dependability, and expertise in jewelry and watches. It was partly for this reason that Harry Winston, the founder of Harry Winston Jewelers, agreed to loan The Hope Diamond to Nelson Coleman for a charity gala event. 

If the Hope Diamond sounds familiar, that’s because it is possibly the most famous diamond in the world. Discovered in the 1600s, it was famously owned by King Louis XIV of France, weighing an impressive 112 3/16 carats and with a color described as “beautiful violet.” In 1673, it was recut by the court jeweler into a 67 ⅛ carat diamond with a color described as “intense steely blue,” which earned it the nicknames “Blue Diamond of the Crown” and “French Blue.” During the French Revolution in 1792, the Hope Diamond was stolen from the crown jewels, which were then owned by King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette.

The diamond disappeared for decades, but it is speculated that it resurfaced in 1812 with London diamond merchant Daniel Eliason. It is believed to have passed into the ownership of King George IV of the U.K., but was likely sold to help cover his extensive debts at the time of his death. It again resurfaced in 1839 in the possession of Henry Philip Hope, from whom it takes its current name. Over more than a century, it then passed from buyer to buyer until it finally landed with Harry Winston in 1949.

While there are several sensationalist stories of tragedies allegedly connected to the Hope Diamond, many of which originated in a 1911 New York Times article, most cannot be verified. What can be verified is the financial strain that seemed to befall many owners of the Hope Diamond, mostly in the form of debt and bankruptcy. There are a few other stories that appear to be accurate, such as one about an owner’s wife leaving him for another man. 

When Evalyn Walsh McLean purchased the Hope Diamond from Cartier in 1911, she had some reservations but decided to try a different approach. She took it to a church and had it blessed, during which a fierce thunderstorm allegedly rattled the building. She was not deterred and retained ownership of it until her death. However, she experienced a great deal of hardship in her life after acquiring it: her nine-year-old son was hit by a car and died; her husband engaged in heavy drinking and infidelity, eventually going insane; and her daughter died from a drug overdose. Evalyn eventually died in 1947 from pneumonia.

Despite its reputation for being cursed, many did not subscribe to that notion. Nelson Coleman, known as Nels by family and friends, was one of those people. He believed that the Hope Diamond was a wonder of nature and should be able to be admired by people. So when he arranged for the Hope Diamond to be displayed at the charity gala, he felt deeply excited about the opportunity. But considering what happened next, it’s hard to wonder if Nels’ non-belief in the curse of the Hope Diamond might have wavered just a bit.

He discovered that, due to a mix-up in commitments, Harry Winston had promised to loan the Hope Diamond to Nels and to another jeweler on the same day, leaving Nelson Coleman unable to display the diamond at their charity gala. This was, unfortunately, discovered after Nels had already sent out the invitations to guests, with the note that the diamond would be present. 

Reputation and trust are foundational to thriving in the jewelry industry, so it was difficult for Nels to break his promise to his guests and for Winston to break his promise to Nels. In an effort to repair the situation, Winston sent a collection of other gems for display in place of the Hope Diamond, including a 25-carat fancy yellow diamond and several other large, very rare diamonds and gemstones.

Nels and his guests were disappointed but still committed to making the best of the event, which, by all accounts, was enjoyable and successful in its charitable goals. However, just before the event could begin, a surprise guest arrived with a request for Nels. That guest was Sonja Henie, a renowned Norwegian figure skater who had won three Olympic gold medals and pivoted into acting. Henie was there to see the Hope Diamond because she was interested in purchasing it. Nels realized that Winston had perhaps forgotten about the scheduling mix-up and told Henie the incorrect location of the diamond. Nels informed Henie of the mix-up, and, disappointed, she left to prepare for her evening event.

Sonja Henie began her skating career at age 14 and won her first Olympic gold medal at 15, the youngest person to win gold in figure skating at the time. She won three gold medals and later transitioned to professional ice shows. Eventually, she was signed by 20th-Century Fox and made several motion pictures. Although not particularly gifted in acting, her performances were built around her skating abilities, and she was generally very well received by audiences.

On the day she visited Nels in Baltimore, she was in the city to perform in the Ice Capades at Baltimore’s Fifth Regiment Armory on Howard Street. She had stopped to see the Hope Diamond before her performance. When she left Nels, she had no idea how badly the rest of the day would go. While rehearsing for the event that day, she and another professional skater witnessed the seed of tragedy.

According to eyewitness Kenny Lamb, a professional skater who performed with Henie that evening, “While we were rehearsing for the show, we watched a work crew erecting some bleacher seats. We noticed they were working very clumsily and didn’t look very skilled, but figured they knew what they were doing. Were we ever wrong! As the overture for the show began, we heard a strange screeching sound and then a roar. The roar was the sound of a thousand seats, filled with people, crashing 18 feet to the floor! They were sitting in the bleachers that had been hastily built during our rehearsal!”

The show was abruptly stopped, and Henie asked the orchestra to quietly play music while the National Guard administered first aid and took people to the hospital. Henie spent the night visiting the injured audience members in the hospital and delayed the show's reopening by three days out of respect for them. Life, the great photo news magazine of the day, carried the story with a photo. The tragedy made the national news, where it was reported that 275 were injured, with 30 in critical condition. Fortunately, there were no deaths from the incident.

The next morning, when Nels and his team heard the news, they were horrified. Upon reading about Henie’s concern for the victims, Nels decided to try to borrow the Hope Diamond again so that Henie could view it, hoping it would cheer her up. He called Harry Winston, only to discover that Henie was no longer interested in purchasing the Hope Diamond. Nels attempted to learn more information and was eventually contacted by Winston’s famous personal receptionist, Rosemary Shaw.

Shaw informed Nels that Henie had called Winston’s the day after the bleacher collapse incident and said she no longer wanted to purchase the diamond. When Shaw had pressed Henie for more details, Henie responded: “[W]hen the diamond was not [at the jeweler’s], I was upset, but when the stands collapsed that same evening, I was sure it had something to do with the Hope Diamond.”

While Nels never gave much stock to the curse rumors about the Hope Diamond, he did believe that the incidents involving himself, Sonja Henie, and the bleacher collapse at Baltimore’s Fifth Regiment Armory may have been a contributing factor to Winston’s eventual decision to donate the Hope Diamond to the Smithsonian Institute in 1958. While there is no definitive evidence of why the diamond was donated, it’s speculated that after years of attempting to sell it, Winston eventually gave up on overcoming its cursed reputation and finding a buyer.

Whether the incident played a part in the Hope Diamond's donation, the Baltimore Fifth Regiment Armory undoubtedly added more lore to the curse myth surrounding it. While Nels always maintained the beauty of the diamond as its primary feature, we can’t help but wonder whether he was tempted to believe in the curse, too.