Everyone thinks they know the story. You walk into the Denon wing, fight through a sea of iPads and selfie sticks, and squint at a surprisingly small portrait of a woman with a receding hairline and no eyebrows. But honestly, the reason you’re standing there at all—the reason the Mona Lisa is a household name while the Wedding Feast at Cana across from it is just "that big painting"—is because of a brazen act of theft. People often ask what did they steal from the Louvre, assuming it's a list of gold coins or crown jewels. While those are in the mix, the most famous heist in history wasn't about the monetary value of the canvas. It was about the scandal.
On August 21, 1911, a man named Vincenzo Peruggia did the unthinkable. He didn't use high-tech lasers or rappelling gear. He just walked in. Peruggia was an Italian handyman who had been hired by the museum to build glass cases. He knew the layout. He knew the guards. Most importantly, he knew that on Mondays, the Louvre was closed for maintenance.
The Day the Walls Went Bare
It’s almost comical how easy it was. Peruggia spent the night in a broom closet. When morning came, he stepped out, took the Mona Lisa off the wall, and ducked into a service stairwell. He stripped the painting from its frame—which he left behind—wrapped his smock around the wood panel, and walked out the front door.
The museum didn't even notice it was gone for twenty-four hours.
You’d think the alarms would be blaring, right? Nope. Security was a joke back then. When a painter named Louis Béroud arrived the next day to sketch the masterpiece, he found four iron pegs where the lady should have been. He asked a guard, who jokingly suggested it had been taken to the photographers for a PR shoot. It took hours for the realization to sink in: the wall was empty.
The French border was closed. Every passenger on every train was searched. The police were so desperate they even interrogated Pablo Picasso. Seriously. Picasso and his friend Guillaume Apollinaire were actual suspects because they had been caught with stolen Iberian statues previously. For two years, the spot on the wall remained vacant, attracting more visitors than the painting ever had when it was actually there. People came just to stare at the gap.
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Beyond the Mona Lisa: The 1939 Mass "Theft"
When people ask what did they steal from the Louvre, they usually mean criminals. But we have to talk about the greatest "legal" heist in the museum's history. As the shadows of World War II lengthened over Europe in 1939, the Louvre’s director, Jacques Jaujard, realized that if the Nazis marched into Paris, the art would be the first thing they’d grab.
He didn't wait for permission. He organized a massive, secret evacuation.
In a matter of weeks, thousands of artworks were crated up. The Mona Lisa was moved in an ambulance on a stretcher. Imagine that for a second. One of the most expensive things on earth, bumping along a dirt road in a literal medical vehicle to keep it away from Hitler’s "Art Protection" units. While the Nazis did eventually occupy Paris and looted plenty of private Jewish collections, Jaujard managed to keep the Louvre's core treasures out of their hands by constantly moving them between chateaus in the countryside.
But not everything stayed safe. The Nazis did manage to take some secondary pieces and, more famously, they cleared out the "Room of Martyrs"—art they considered "degenerate." This wasn't a heist for profit; it was an attempt to erase a culture.
The 1998 Heist: A Forgotten Sèvres Scandal
Fast forward to the late 90s. Security was supposed to be better. It wasn't. In May 1998, a thief managed to walk away with a painting by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot titled The Sèvres Road.
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This one was weird.
The thief didn't go for a Da Vinci. They went for a landscape that was relatively "obscure" to the general public but worth about $1.3 million at the time. They literally cut it out of the frame while the museum was open. This highlighted a terrifying reality for the Louvre: with over 60,000 square meters of space, you can’t watch everyone every second. The Corot was eventually recovered, but it reminded the world that the Louvre is essentially a giant target with too many doors.
Why Do They Do It?
The psychology here is fascinating. You can't exactly sell the Mona Lisa on the black market. Who would buy it? You can't hang it in your living room without your mailman calling the cops. Most Louvre thefts fall into three buckets:
- Political Statements: Peruggia claimed he stole the Mona Lisa to return her to Italy. He thought Napoleon had stolen it (he actually hadn't; Da Vinci took it to France himself).
- The "Art Kidnapping": This is where thieves steal a work and hold it for ransom from the insurance company or the government.
- The Obsessive Collector: This is the rarest but most dangerous. A person who wants the art so badly they don't care if they can never show it to another living soul.
The Objects That Actually Went Missing
If we look at the raw data of what did they steal from the Louvre over the centuries, it’s not just paintings.
- Statuary: Small Egyptian figurines have disappeared more often than the big stuff. They fit in a pocket.
- The Regent Diamond: Part of the French Crown Jewels. It’s been stolen and recovered more times than a Hollywood prop. During the French Revolution, it was nabbed in a massive heist of the Garde-Meuble (the royal storehouse).
- Drawings: Because the Louvre has a massive collection of prints and drawings that aren't always on display, inventory checks have occasionally turned up "missing" items that were likely pocketed by staff or researchers decades ago.
It's a logistical nightmare. The Louvre holds over 380,000 objects. Only about 35,000 are on display. It's a city within a city.
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How the Museum Fights Back Now
Today, the Louvre is a fortress, even if it doesn't look like one. They use a mix of infrared sensors, weight-sensitive pedestals, and "smart" glass that can detect a vibration before a crack even forms. But the biggest change? The culture of the guards. In 1911, the guards were often retired soldiers who spent most of their time napping or reading the paper. Now, they are trained in behavioral analysis. They aren't just looking for people touching the art; they're looking for people "scouting" the cameras.
The Mona Lisa now lives behind triple-layered, non-reflective bulletproof glass in a climate-controlled box. Even if you managed to break the glass—which would take a literal sledgehammer and several minutes of loud banging—the painting is bolted to a motorized frame that can drop it into a reinforced vault in seconds.
Actionable Insights for Your Next Visit
If you're heading to Paris and want to see these "survivors" of history, don't just follow the crowd. Here is how to actually appreciate the history of the Louvre's security and its "stolen" past:
- Check the Frames: Look at the way the paintings are mounted. Notice the thin wires? Those are silent alarms. If the tension changes by even a few grams, the room locks down.
- Visit the Richelieu Wing: This is where the smaller, more "portable" treasures are. It's where you'll see why the museum is so paranoid about pocket-sized artifacts.
- The Peruggia Path: Go to the Salon Carré. That’s where the Mona Lisa hung in 1911. Standing in that spot makes you realize how crazy it was that a guy just walked out of there with the world's most famous face under his arm.
- Download the "Louvre + " App: They often have updates on which rooms are closed for "security upgrades." Usually, that's code for "we're installing even better sensors."
The history of theft at the Louvre is really just a history of our obsession with beauty. We want to own what we should only admire. Whether it’s an Italian patriot or a Nazi officer, the museum remains a testament to the fact that while you can steal a canvas, you can’t really steal the legacy.
To get the most out of your trip, book your tickets for the 9:00 AM slot. Go straight to the Mona Lisa first—not to see her smile, but to see the security setup. Then, spend the rest of your day in the Near Eastern Antiquities section. It’s quieter, the objects are just as valuable, and the stories of how they survived the centuries are just as wild. Don't forget to look up at the ceilings; sometimes the most beautiful things in the Louvre are the ones they can't possibly carry out the door.