FINGER-RING LORE

LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET

FINGER-RING LORE

HISTORICAL, LEGENDARY, ANECDOTAL

BY
WILLIAM JONES, F.S.A.

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS

London
CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY
1877

TO
MY WIFE:

Bon Cœur: Sans Peur.

PREFACE.

I had intended to confine my observations exclusively to the subject of ‘ring superstitions,’ but in going through a wide field of olden literature I found so much of interest in connection with rings generally, that I have ventured to give the present work a more varied, and, I trust, a more attractive character.

The importance of this branch of archæology cannot be too highly appreciated, embracing incidents, historic and social, from the earliest times, brought to our notice by invaluable specimens of glyptic art, many of them of the purest taste, beauty, and excellency; elucidating obscure points in the creeds and general usages of the past, types for artistic imitation, besides supplying links to fix particular times and events.

In thus contributing to the extension of knowledge, the subject of ring-lore has a close affinity to that of numismatics, but it possesses the supreme advantage of appealing to our sympathies and affections. So Herrick sings of the wedding-ring:

And as this round
Is nowhere found
To flaw, or else to sever,
So let our love
As endless prove,
And pure as gold for ever!

It must be admitted that in many cases of particular rings it is sometimes difficult to arrive at concurrent conclusions respecting their date and authenticity: much has to be left to conjecture, but the pursuit of enquiry into the past is always pleasant and instructive, however unsuccessful in its results. One of our most eminent antiquarians writes to me thus: ‘We must not take for granted that everything in print is correct, for fresh information is from time to time obtained which shows to be incorrect that which was previously written.’

My acknowledgments are due to friends at home and abroad, whose collections of rings have been opened for my inspection with true masonic cordiality.

I have also to thank the publishers of this work for the liberal manner in which they have illustrated the text. Many of the engravings are from drawings taken from the gem-room of the British, and from other museums, and from rare and costly works on the Fine Arts, not easily accessible to the general reader. Descriptions of rings without pictorial representations would (as in the case of coins) materially lessen their attraction, and would render the book what might be termed ‘a garden without flowers.’

In conclusion I will adopt the valedictory lines of an old author, who writes in homely and deprecatory verse:

FOR HERDE IT IS, A MAN TO ATTAYNE
TO MAKE A THING PERFYTE, AT FIRST SIGHT,
BUT WAN IT IS RED, AND WELL OVER SEYNE
FAUTES MAY BE FOUNDE, THAT NEVER CAME TO LYGHT,
THOUGH THE MAKER DO HIS DILIGENCE AND MIGHT.
PRAYEING THEM TO TAKE IT, AS I HAVE ENTENDED,
AND TO FORGYVE ME, YF THAT I HAVE OFFENDED.

CONTENTS.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

FINGER-RING LORE.

CHAPTER I.

RINGS FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD.

The use of signet-rings as symbols of great respect and authority is mentioned in several parts of the Holy Scriptures, from which it would seem that they were then common among persons of rank. They were sometimes wholly of metal, but frequently the inscription was borne on a stone, set in gold or silver. The impression from the signet-ring of a monarch gave the force of a royal decree to any instrument to which it was attached. Hence the delivery or transfer of it gave the power of using the royal name, and created the highest office in the State. In Genesis (xli. 42) we find that Joseph had conferred upon him the royal signet as an insignia of authority.[1] Thus Ahasuerus transferred his authority to Haman (Esther iii. 12). The ring was also used as a pledge for the performance of a promise: Judah promised to send Tamar, his daughter-in-law, a kid from his flock, and for fulfilment left with her (at her desire) his signet, his bracelet, and his staff (Genesis xxxviii. 17, 18).

Darius sealed with his ring the mouth of the den of lions (Daniel vi. 17). Queen Jezebel, to destroy Naboth, made use of the ring of Ahab, King of the Israelites, her husband, to seal the counterfeit letters ordering the death of that unfortunate man.

The Scriptures tell us that, when Judith arrayed herself to meet Holofernes, among other rich decorations she wore bracelets, ear-rings, and rings.

The earliest materials of which rings were made was of pure gold, and the metal usually very thin. The Israelitish people wore not only rings on their fingers, but also in their nostrils[2] and ears. Josephus, in the third book of his ‘Antiquities,’ states that they had the use of them after passing the Red Sea, because Moses, on his return from Sinai, found that the men had made the golden calf from their wives’ rings and other ornaments.

Moses permitted the use of gold rings to the priests whom he had established. The nomad people called Midianites, who were conquered by Moses, and eventually overthrown by Gideon (Numbers xxxi.), possessed large numbers of rings among their personal ornaments.

The Jews wore the signet-ring on the right hand, as appears from a passage in Jeremiah (xxii. 24). The words of the Lord are uttered against Zedekiah: ‘though Coniah the son of Jehoiakim, King of Judah, were the signet on my right hand, yet would I pluck thee thence.’

We are not to assume, however, that all ancient seals, being signets, were rings intended to be worn on the hand. ‘One of the largest Egyptian signets I have seen,’ remarks Sir J. G. Wilkinson, ‘was in possession of a French gentleman of Cairo, which contained twenty pounds’ worth of gold. It consisted of a massive ring, half an inch in its largest diameter, bearing an oblong plinth, on which the devices were engraved, 1 inch long, ⁶⁄10ths in its greatest, and ⁴⁄10ths in its smallest, breadth. On one side was the name of a king, the successor of Amunoph III., who lived about fourteen hundred years before Christ; on the other a lion, with the legend “Lord of Strength,” referring to the monarch. On one side a scorpion, and on the other a crocodile.’

This ring passed into the Waterton Dactyliotheca, and is now the property of the South Kensington Museum.

Egyptian Bronze Rings.

Rings of inferior metal, engraved with the king’s name, may, probably, have been worn by officials of the court. In the Londesborough collection is a bronze ring, bearing on the oval face the name of Amunoph III., the same monarch known to the Greeks as ‘Memnon.’ The other ring, also of bronze, has engraved on the face a scarabæus. Such rings were worn by the Egyptian soldiers.

In the British Museum are some interesting specimens of Egyptian rings with representations of the scarabæus,[3] or beetle. These rings generally bear the name of the wearer, the name of the monarch in whose reign he lived, and also the emblems of certain deities; they were so set in the gold ring as to allow the scarabæus to revolve on its centre, it being pierced for that purpose.

Colonel Barnet possesses an Egyptian signet-ring formed by a scarabæus set in gold. It was found on the little finger of a splendid gilded mummy at Thebes. In all probability the wearer of the ring had been a royal scribe, as by his side was found a writing-tablet of stone. On the breast was a large scarabæus of green porphyry, set in gold.

The Rev. Henry Mackenzie, of Yarmouth, possesses an Egyptian scarabæus, a signet-ring, set with an intaglio, on cornelian, found in the bed of a deserted branch of the Euphrates, in the district of Hamadân in Persia. The engraving is unfinished, the work is polished in the intaglio, and the date has therefore been supposed not later than the time of the Greeks in Persia, circa 325 B.C.

Egyptian Signet-rings.

The representations here given illustrate the large and massive Egyptian signet-ring, and also a lighter kind of hooped signet, ‘as generally worn at a somewhat more recent period in Egypt. The gold loop passes through a small figure of the sacred beetle, the flat under-side being engraved with the device of a crab.’

In the British Museum, in the first Egyptian Room, is the signet-ring of Queen Sebek-nefru (Sciemiophris). ‘Sebek’ was a popular component of proper names after the twelfth dynasty, probably because this queen was beloved by the people. On Assyrian sculptures are found armlets and bracelets; rings do not appear to have been generally worn.

At a meeting of the Society of Biblical Archæology, in June 1873, Dr. H. F. Talbot, F.R.S., read an interesting paper on the legend of ‘Ishtar descending to Hades,’ in which he translated from the tablets the goddess’s voluntary descent into the Assyrian Inferno. In the cuneiform it is called ‘the land of no return.’ Ishtar passes successively through the seven gates, compelled to surrender her jewels, viz. her crown, ear-rings, head-jewels, frontlets, girdle, finger- and toe-rings, and necklace. A cup full of the Waters of Life is given to her, whereby she returns to the upper world, receiving at each gate of Hades the jewels she had been deprived of in her descent.

Mr. Greene, F.S.A., has an Egyptian gold ring, formerly in the possession of the late Mr. Salt, belonging to the nineteenth dynasty, probably from the Lower Country, below Memphis. It is engraved with a representation of the goddess Nephthis, or Neith. Another gold ring of a later period, from the Upper Country, dates, probably, from the time of Psammitichus, B.C. 671 to 617.

In the collection of Egyptian antiquities formed by the late R. Hay, Esq., of Limplum, N.B., were two Græco-Egyptian gold rings, found, it is conjectured, in the Aasa-seef, near Thebes. One of these is of the usual signet form, but without an inscription; the other is of an Etruscan pattern, and is composed of a spiral wire, whose extremities end in a twisted loop, with knob-like intersections. Both these objects are of fine workmanship, and are wrought in very pure gold. Sir J. G. Wilkinson, in ‘Manners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians,’ remarks: ‘The rings were mostly of gold, and this metal seems always to have been preferred to silver for rings and other articles of jewellery. Silver rings are, however, occasionally to be met with, and two in my possession, which were accidentally found in a temple at Thebes, are engraved with hieroglyphics, containing the name of the royal city. Bronze was seldom used for rings; some have been discovered of brass and iron (of a Roman time), but ivory and blue porcelain were the materials of which those worn by the lower classes were usually made.’

The Rev. C. W. King observes: ‘I have seen finger-rings of ivory of the Egyptian period, their heads engraved with sphinxes and figures of eyes cut in low relief as camei, and originally coloured.’

The porcelain finger-rings of ancient Egypt are extremely beautiful, the band of the ring being seldom above one eighth of an inch in thickness. Some have a plate in which in bas-relief is the god Baal, full-faced, playing on the tambourine, as the inventor of music; others have their plates in the shape of the right symbolical eye, the emblem of the sun, of a fish of the perch species, or of a scarabæus. Some few represent flowers. Those which have elliptical plates with hieroglyphical inscriptions bear the names of Amen-Ra, and of other gods and monarchs, as Amenophis III., Amenophis IV., and Amenmest of the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties. One of these rings has a little bugle on each side, as if it had been strung on the beaded work of a mummy, instead of being placed on the finger. Blue is the prevalent colour, but a few white and yellow rings, and some even ornamented with red and purple colours, have been discovered. It is scarcely credible that these rings, of a substance finer and more fragile than glass, were worn during life, and it seems hardly likely that they were worn by the poorer classes, for the use of the king’s name on sepulchral objects seems to have been restricted to functionaries of state. Some larger rings of porcelain of about an inch in diameter, seven-eighths of an inch broad, and one-sixteenth of an inch thick, made in open work, represents the constantly-repeated lotus-flowers, and the god Ra, or the sun, seated and floating through the heavens in his boat.

At the Winchester meeting of the Archæological Institute in 1845 a curious swivel-ring of blue porcelain was exhibited, found at Abydus in Upper Egypt; setting modern. It has a double impression: on the one side is the king making an offering to the gods, with the emblems of life and purity; on the other side the name of the monarch in the usual ‘cartouche,’ one that is well known, being that of Thothmes III., whom Wilkinson supposes to have been the Pharaoh of Exodus. It is worthy of remark that this cartouche is ‘supported’ by asps, which are usually considered to be the attributes of royalty.

Egyptian Porcelain Ring.

The annexed engraving represents an Egyptian ring, en pâte céramique, from M. Dieulafait’s ‘Diamants et Pierres Précieuses.’

The signet of Sennacherib in the British Museum is made of Amazon stone, one of the hardest stones known to the lapidary, and bears an intaglio ‘which,’ observes the Rev. C. W. King, ‘by its extreme minuteness, and the precision of the drawing, displays the excellence to which the art had already attained.’

On a mummy-case in the British Museum is a representation of a woman with crossed hands, covered with rings; the left hand is most loaded. Upon the thumb is a signet with hieroglyphics on the surface, three rings on the forefinger, two on the second, one formed like a snail shell, the same number on the next, and one on the little finger. The right hand carries only a thumb ring, and two upon the third finger.

Rings on the fingers of a Mummy.

Sir J. G. Wilkinson observes: ‘The left was considered the hand peculiarly privileged to bear these ornaments; and it is remarkable that its third finger was decorated with a greater number than any other, and was considered by them, as by us, par excellence, the ring-finger, though there is no evidence of its having been so honoured at the marriage ceremony.’

The same author mentions that rings were a favourite decoration among the Egyptians; women wore sometimes two or three on the same finger. They were frequently worn on the thumb. Some were simple, others had an engraved stone, and frequently bore the name of the owner; others the monarch in whose time he lived, and they were occasionally in the form of a snail, a knot, a snake, or some fancy device. A cat—emblem of the goddess Bast, or Pasht, the Egyptian Diana—was a favourite subject for ladies’ rings.

Egyptian Gold Ring, from Ghizeh.

One of the oldest, if not the most ancient ring known, is supposed to be that in the collection of Dr. Abbot, of Cairo, now preserved with his other Egyptian antiquities at New York. It is thus described by him:—‘This remarkable piece of antiquity is in the highest state of preservation, and was found at Ghizeh, in a tomb near the excavation of Colonel Vyse, called Campbell’s tomb. It is of fine gold, and weighs nearly three sovereigns. The style of the hieroglyphics within the oval make the name of that Pharaoh (Cheops, Shofo) of whom the pyramid was the tomb. The details are minutely accurate and beautifully executed. The heaven is engraved with stars; the fox or jackal has significant lines within its contour; the hatchets have their handles bound with thongs, as is usual in the sculptures; the volumes have the strings which bind them hanging below the roll—differing in this respect from any example in sculptured or painted hieroglyphics. The determinative for country is studded with dots, representing the land of the mountains at the margin of the valley of Egypt. The instrument, as in the larger hieroglyphics, has the tongue and semi-lunar mark of the sculptured examples; as is the case also with the heart-shaped vase. The name is surmounted with the globe and feathers, decorated in the usual manner; and the ring of the cartouche is engraved with marks representing a rope, never seen in the sculptures; and the only instance of a royal name similarly encircled is a porcelain example in this collection, inclosing the name of the father of Sesostris. The O in the name is placed as in the examples sculptured in the tombs, not in the axis of the cartouche; the chickens have their unfledged wings; the cerastes its horns, now only to be seen with a magnifying glass.’

In a lecture to the deaf and dumb in St. Saviour’s Hall, Oxford Street, London (October 1875), on ‘Eastern Manners and Customs,’ amongst various relics exhibited was the hand of a female mummy, on one finger of which was a gold ring, with the signet of one of the Pharaohs.

A gold ring exhibited at the exhibition of antiquities at the Ironmongers’ Hall, in 1861, had hieroglyphics meaning ‘protected by the living goddess Mu.’

Among some interesting specimens of Egyptian rings exhibited at the South Kensington Loan Exhibition of 1872 I may mention an antique ring of pale gold, with a long oval bezel chased in intaglio, with representation of a sistrum (timbrel, used by the Egyptians in their religious ceremonies), the property of Viscount Hawarden; an antique ring of pale gold (belonging to Lady Ashburton), formed of a slender wire, the ends twisted round the shoulders, upon which is strung a signet, in form of a cat, made of greenish-blue glazed earthenware.

From the collection of R. H. Soden Smith, Esq. F.S.A., an ancient pale gold ring, with revolving cylinders of lapis-lazuli, engraved with hieroglyphics; the shoulders of the hoop wrapped round with wire ornament.

The Waterton Collection contains Egyptian rings of various descriptions: one of silver, with revolving bezel of cornelian representing the symbolical right eye. Several rings of glazed earthenware; one of gold, very massive, with revolving scarab of glazed earthenware, partially encased in gold. A gold ring, the hoop of close-corded work, revolving bezel with blood-stone scarab, engraved with Hathor and child. The same engraving is on a gold signet-ring, with vesica-shaped bezel, and upon a white-metal ring, where the figures are surrounded by lotus-flowers. Another gold signet-ring is engraved with the figure of Amen-ra; a probably Egyptian white-metal ring, with narrow oblong bezel, engraved with a frieze of figures, and winged Genii, divided by candelabra.

Several of the Egyptian rings in the Museum of the Louvre at Paris date from the reign of King Mœris. One of the oldest rings extant is that of Cheops, the founder of the Great Pyramid, which was found in a tomb there. It is of gold, with hieroglyphics.

The Egyptian glass-workers produced small mosaics of the most minute and delicate finish, and sufficiently small to be worn on rings.

Dr. Birch, in a very interesting paper communicated to the Society of Antiquaries, at the meeting of November 17, 1870, observes, with regard to the scarabæi and signet-rings of the ancient Egyptians, that the use of these curious objects (the exhibition comprising upwards of five hundred scarabs from the collection of Egyptian antiquities formed by the late R. Hay, Esq., of Sinplum, N.B., to which I have alluded) dates back from a remote period of Egyptian history. ‘As it is well known, they were not merely made in porcelain, but also in steatite, or stea-schist, and the various semi-precious stones suitable for engraving, such as cornelian, sard, and such-like.’ In the time of the twelfth dynasty the cylindrical ring, also found in use among the Assyrians and Babylonians, came into vogue. The hard stones and gems were of later introduction, probably under the influence of Greek art, for the ancient Egyptians themselves do not appear to have possessed the method of cutting such hard substances. A few, however, exist, which are clearly of great antiquity—as, for example, a specimen in yellow jasper now in the British Museum.

The principal purpose to which these scarabs were applied was to form the revolving bezel of a signet-ring, the substance in which the impression was taken being a soft clay, with which a letter was sealed.

It is singular that some of these objects have been found in rings fixed with the plane engraved side inwards, rendering them unfit for the purposes of sealing. It is well known that the use of these scarabs was so extensive as to have prevailed beyond Egypt, being adopted by the Phœnicians and the Etruscans.

On this subject the Rev. C. W. King remarks that gold rings, even of the Etruscan period, are very rare, the signets of that nation still retaining the form of scarabæi. ‘The most magnificent Etruscan ring known, belonging once to the Prince de Canino, and now in the matchless collection of antique gems in the British Museum, is formed of the fore-parts of two lions, whose bodies compose the shank, whilst their heads and fore-paws support the signet—a small sand scarab, engraved with a lion regardant, and set in an elegant bezel of filagree-work. The two lions are beaten up in full relief of thin gold plate, in a stiff archaic style, but very carefully finished.’

The Waterton Collection contains a gold ring of Etruscan workmanship, of singular beauty. It is described by Padre Geruchi, of the Sacred College, as a betrothal or nuptial ring. It has figures of Hercules and Juno placed back to back on the hoop, having their arms raised above their heads. Hercules is covered with the skin of a lion, Juno with that of a goat.

Fairholt, in ‘Rambles of an Archæologist,’ describes an ancient Etruscan ring in the British Museum, with chimeræ on it opposing each other. The style and treatment partake largely of ancient Eastern art. There is also in the same collection a remarkable ring having the convolutions of a serpent, the head of Serapis at one extremity and of Isis at the other; by this arrangement one or other of them would always be correctly posited; it has, also, the further advantage of being flexible, owing to the great sweep of its curve. Silver rings are rarer than those of gold in the tombs of Etruria, and iron and bronze examples are gilt.

All the Hindoo Mogul divinities of antiquity had rings; the statues of the gods at Elephanta, supposed to be of the highest antiquity, had finger-rings.

The Rev. C. W. King describes a ring in the Waterton collection, of remarkable interest—apparently dating from the Lower Empire, for the head is much thrown up, and has the sides pierced into a pattern, the ‘interrasile opus, so much in fashion during those times. It is set with two diamonds of (probably) a carat each: one a perfect octahedron of considerable lustre, the other duller and irregularly crystallised. Another such example might be sought for in vain throughout the largest cabinets of Europe.’

After the conquest of Asia Alexander the Great used the signet-ring of Darius to seal his edicts to the Persians; his own signet he used for those addressed to the Greeks.

Xerxes, King of Persia, was a great gem-fancier, but his chief signet was a portrait, either of himself, or of Cyrus, the founder of the monarchy. He also wore a ring with the figure of Anaitis, the Babylonian Venus, upon it. Thucydides says that the Persian kings honoured their subjects by giving them rings with the likenesses of Darius and Cyrus.

The late Mr. Fairholt purchased in Cairo a ring worn by an Egyptian lady of the higher class. It is a simple hoop of twisted gold, to which hangs a series of pendant ornaments, consisting of small beads of coral, and thin plates of gold, cut to represent the leaves of a plant. As the hands move, these ornaments play about the finger, and a very brilliant effect might be produced if diamonds were used in the pendants.

The rings worn by the middle class of Egyptian men are usually of silver, set with mineral stones, and are valued as the work of the silversmiths of Mecca, that sacred city being supposed to exert a holy influence on all the works it originates.

Modern Egyptian Rings.

A curious ring with a double keeper is worn by Egyptian men. It is composed entirely of common cast silver, set with mineral stone. The lowermost keeper, of twisted wire, is first put on the finger, then follows the ring. The second keeper is then brought down upon it: the two being held by a brace which passes at the back of the ring, and gives security to the whole.

Modern Egyptian Ring,
with Double Keepers.

Tavernier states in his ‘Travels’ that the Persians did not make gold rings, their religion forbidding the wearing of any article of that metal during prayers, it would have been too troublesome to take them off every time they performed their devotions. The gems mounted in gold rings, sold by Tavernier to the King, were reset in silver by native workmen.

The custom of wearing rings may have been introduced into Greece from Asia, and into Italy from Greece. They served the twofold purpose, ornamental and useful, being employed as a seal, which was called sphragis, a name given to the gem or stone on which figures were engraved. The Homeric poems make mention of ear-rings only, but in the later Greek legends the ancient heroes are represented as wearing finger-rings. Counterfeit stones in rings are mentioned in the time of Solon. Transparent stones when extracted from the remains of the original iron-rings of the ancients are sometimes found backed by a leaf of red gold as a foil.[4] The use of coloured foils was merely to deceive and impose upon the unwary, by giving to a very inferior jewel the finest colour. Solon made a law prohibiting sellers of rings from keeping the model of a ring they had sold.

The Lacedæmonians, according to the laws of Lycurgus, had only iron rings, despising those of gold; either that the King devised thereby to retrench luxury, or not to permit the use of them.

The Etruscans and the Sabines wore rings at the period of the foundation of Rome, 753 B.C.

The Etruscans made rings of great value. They have been found of every variety—with precious stones, of massive gold, very solid, with engraved stones of remarkable beauty. Among Etruscan rings in the Musée Nap. III. the table of one offers a representation, enlarged, of the story of Admētus, the King of Pheræ in Thessaly. He took part in the expedition of the Argonauts, and sued for the hand of Alcestis, the daughter of Pelias, who promised him to her on condition that he should come to her in a chariot drawn by lions and boars. This feat Admētus performed by the assistance of Apollo, who served him, according to some accounts, out of attachment to him, or, according to others, because he was obliged to serve a mortal for one year, for having slain the Cyclops.

Etruscan (Admētus).

Representation of Admētus.

Etrusca.

Among rings taken out of the tombs there are some in the form of a knot or of a serpent. They are frequently found with shields of gold, and of that form which we call Gothic, that is elliptical and pointed, called by foreigners ogive, with raised subjects chiselled on the gold, or with onyxs of the same form, but polished and surrounded with gold. There are some particular rings which appear more adapted to be used as seals than rings, and they have on the shields, relievos of much more arched, and almost Egyptian, form.[5]

Etruscan.

Etruscan.

Among the antique jewels at the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris are two fine specimens of Etruscan rings. One is of gold, on which is a scarabæus in cornelian; the stomach of the scarabæus is engraved hollow and represents a naked man holding a vase. The other is a gold ring found in a tomb at Etruria, of which the bezel, sculptured in relief, could not serve as a seal. The subject is a divinity combating with two spirits, a representation of the eastern idea of the struggles between the two principles of good and evil, such as are found on numerous cylinders that come from the borders of the Euphrates and the Tigris. This analogy between the religious ideas of the Etruscans and those of the most ancient monuments of the East is not astonishing when it is shown that the Etruscans, the ancient inhabitants of Italy, were originally from Asia. The following engraving represents an intaglio on a scarabæus ring, of fine workmanship, preserved in Vienna.

At a meeting of the Archæological Institute (May 3, 1850) the Dowager Duchess of Cleveland exhibited a curious Roman ring of pure gold (weight 182 grains), of which an illustration is given in the Journal of the Institute (vol. vii. p. 190). ‘It was found, with other remains, at Pierse Bridge (Ad Tisam), county of Durham, where the vestiges of a rectangular encampment may be distinctly traced. The hoop, wrought by the hammer, is joined by welding the extremities together; to this is attached an oval facet, the metal engraved in intaglio, the impress being two human heads respectant, probably male and female—the prototype of the numerous “love seals” of a later period. The device on the ring is somewhat effaced, but evidently represented two persons gazing at each other. This is not the first Roman example of the kind found in England. The device appears on a ring, apparently of that period, found on Stanmore Common in 1781. On the mediæval seals alluded to, the heads are usually accompanied by the motto “Love me, and I thee,” to which, also, a counterpart is found among relics of a more remote age. Galeotti, in his curious illustrations of the “Gemmæ Antiquæ Litteratæ,” in the collection of Ficoroni, gives an intaglio engraved with the words “Amo te, ama me.”’

Etruscan.

The following engravings represent: A ring in the Musée du Louvre, with a lion sculptured by a Greek artist, in an oriental cornelian; the reverse has an intaglio of a lion couchant. The second, from the Webb Collection, is that of an ancient Greek ring, of solid gold, with the representation of a comic mask in high relief. The other, a gold ring with a bearded mask, Roman, in the Waterton Collection at the South Kensington Museum—also in high relief—has the shoulders thickened with fillets, engraved with stars.

A singular discovery of Roman relics was made in 1824 at Terling Place, near Witham, Essex, by some workmen forming a new road; the earth being soaked by heavy rains the cart-wheels sank up to their naves. The driver of the cart saw some white spots upon the mud adhering to the wheels, which proved to be coins. On further search a small vase was discovered in which had been deposited with some coins, two gold rings, which are interesting examples of late Roman work; and representations of these, by Lord Rayleigh’s permission, were given in the ‘Journal of the Archæological Institute’ (vol. iii. p. 163) and are here shown. One of the rings is set with a colourless crackly crystal, or pasta, uncut and en cabochon; the other with a paste formed of two layers, the upper being of a dull smalt colour, the lower dark brown. The device is apparently an ear of corn.

Late Roman.

The Hertz Collection contained a well-formed octahedral diamond, about a carat in weight, set open in a Roman ring of unquestionable authenticity.

At the Loan Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum, in 1872, John Evans Esq., F.S.A., contributed a series of seven rings, gold and silver, Roman, set with antique stones; one very massive, of silver and gold, set with intaglio on nicolo onyx; one with an angular hoop, and another with beaded ornaments.

‘Though,’ remarks Mr. Fairholt, ‘a great variety of form and detail was adopted by Greek and Roman goldsmiths for the rings they so largely manufactured, the most general and lasting resembled a Roman ring, probably of the time of Hadrian, which is said to have been found in the Roman camp at Silchester, Berkshire. The gold of the ring is massive at the face, making a strong setting for the cornelian, which is engraved with the figure of a female bearing corn and fruit. By far the greater majority of Roman rings exhumed at home and abroad are of this fashion, which recommends itself by a dignified simplicity, telling by quantity and quality of metal and stone its true value, without any obtrusive aid.’ Sometimes a single ring was constructed to appear like a group of two or three upon the finger. Mr. Charles Edwards, of New York, in his ‘History and Poetry of Finger Rings,’ has given an example of this kind of ring. Upon the wide part of each are two letters, the whole forming ‘ZHCAIC,’ mayst thou live!

‘The simplest and most useful form of rings, and that by consequence adopted by people of all early nations, was the plain elastic hoop. Cheap in construction and convenient in wear, it may be safely said to have been generally patronised from the most ancient to the most modern times.’ An engraving by Mr. Fairholt represents ‘the old form of a ring made in the shape of a coiled serpent, equally ancient, equally far-spread in the old world, and which has had a very large sale among ourselves as a decided novelty. In fact, it has been the most successful design our ring-makers have produced of late years.’

Ancient Plain Rings.

The statues of Numa and Servius Tullius were represented with rings, while those of the other Kings had none; which would induce the belief that the use of rings was little known in the early days of Rome. Pliny[6] states that the first date in Roman history in which he could trace any general use of rings was in A.U.C. 449, in the time of Cneius Flavius, the son of Annius. Less than a century before Christ, Mithridates, the famous King of Pontus, possessed a museum of signet-rings; later, Scaurus, the stepson of the Dictator, Sylla, had a collection of signet-rings, but inferior to that of Mithridates, which, having become the spoil of Pompey, was presented by him to the Capitol.

In Rome every freeman had the right to use the iron ring, which was worn to the last period of the Republic, by such men as loved the simplicity of the good old times. Among these was Marius, who, as Pliny tells us, wore an iron ring in his triumph after the subjugation of Jugurtha. In the early days of the Empire the jus annuli seems to have elevated the wearer to the equestrian order. Those who committed any crime forfeited the distinction, and this shows us the estimation in which the ring, as an emblem of honour, was regarded.

Iron Ring of a
Roman Knight.

We are told of Cæsar that when addressing his soldiers after the passage of the Rubicon he often held up the little finger of his left hand, protesting that he would pledge even to his ring to satisfy the claims of those who defended his cause. The soldiers of the furthest ranks, who could see but not hear him, mistaking the gesture, imagined that he was promising to each man the dignity of a Roman Knight.

Gold rings appear to have been first worn by ambassadors to a foreign State, but only during a diplomatic mission; in private they wore their iron ones.

In the course of time it became customary for all the senators, chief magistrates, and the equites to wear a gold seal-ring. This practice, which was subsequently termed the jus annuli aurei, or the jus annulorum, remained for several centuries at Rome their exclusive privilege, while others continued to wear the iron ring. In Plutarch’s Life of Caius Marius he mentions that the slaves of Cornutus concealed their master at home, and hanging up by the neck the body of some obscure person, and putting a gold ring on his finger, they showed him to the guards of Marius, and then wrapping up the body as if it were their master’s, they interred it.

Magistrates and governors of provinces seem to have possessed the privilege of conferring upon inferior officers, or such persons as had distinguished themselves, the right of wearing a gold ring. Verres thus presented his secretary with a gold ring in the assembly at Syracuse.

Roman.

Montfaucon mentions in his ‘Antiquity Explained’ (English Edition, 1722, vol. iii. p. 146), a Greek seal-ring, which has the shape of a crescent. An illustration is here given of a similarly-formed Roman ring, with the letters Q. S. P. Q., Quintanus Senatus Populusque, from the ‘Gemmæ Antiquæ Litteratæ.’

Some wore rings of gold, covered with a plate of iron. Trimalchion wore two rings, one upon the little finger of his left hand, which was a large gilt one, and the other of gold, set with stars of iron upon the middle of the ring-finger. Some rings were hollow, and others solid. The Flamines Diales could only wear the former.

During the Empire the right of granting the privilege of a gold ring belonged to the emperors, and some were not very scrupulous in conferring this distinction.

Severus and Aurelian granted this privilege to all Roman soldiers; Justinian allowed all citizens of the empire to wear such rings.

But there always seems to have been a difficulty in restricting the use of the gold ring. Tiberius (A.D. 22) allowed its use to all whose fathers and grandfathers had property of the value of 400,000 sestertia (3,230l.). The restriction, however, was of little avail, and the ambition for the annulus aureus became greater than it had ever been before.

Juvenal, in his eleventh ‘Satire,’ alludes to a spendthrift who, after consuming his estate, has nothing but his ring:—

At length, when nought remains a meal to bring,
The last poor shift, off comes the Knightly ring,
And sad Sir Pollio begs his daily fare,
With undistinguished hands, and fingers bare.

Martial attacks a person under the name of Zoilus, who had been raised from a state of servitude to Knighthood, and was determined to make the ring, the badge of his new honour, sufficiently conspicuous:—

Zoile, quid tota gemmam præcingere libra
Te juvat, et miserum perdire sardonycha?
Annulus iste tuus fuerat modo cruribus aptus;
Non eadem digitis pondera conveniunt.

The keeping of the imperial ring (cura annuli) was confided to a state keeper, as the Great Seal with us is placed in custody of the Lord Chancellor.

With the increasing love of luxury and show, the Romans, as well as the Greeks, covered their fingers with rings, and some wore different ones for summer and winter, immoderate both in number and size.[7] The accompanying illustrations represent a huge ring of coloured paste, all of one piece, blue colour—one of the rings of inexpensive manufacture in popular use among the lower classes. It is smaller on one side, to occupy less space on the index or little finger.

Roman.

The following illustrates a supposed Gallo-Roman ring of outrageous proportions, similar to those complained of by Livy (xxxiii., see Appendix), for their extravagant size. It is of bronze, and supposed to represent a cow or bull seated, with a bell round the neck.

Heavy rings of gold of a sharp triangular outline were worn on the little finger in the later time of the Empire. A thumb-ring of unusual magnitude and of costly material is represented in Montfaucon. It bears the bust in high relief of the Empress Plotina, the consort of Trajan: she is represented with the imperial diadem. It is supposed to have decorated the hand of some member of the imperial family. The Rev. C. W. King mentions a ring in the Fould Collection (dispersed by auction in 1860), the weight of which, although intended for the little finger, was three ounces. It was set with a large Oriental onyx, not engraved.

Supposed Gallo-Roman.

Roman Thumb-ring.

Juvenal alludes to the ‘season’ rings:—

Charged with light summer rings his fingers sweat,
Unable to support a gem of weight.

The custom of wearing numerous rings must have been at a comparatively early period: it is alluded to both by Plato and Aristophanes. According to Martial, one Clarinus wore daily no less than sixty rings: ‘Senos Clarinus omnibus digitis gerit,’ and, what is more remarkable, he loved to sleep wearing them, ‘nec nocte ponit annulos.’ Quintilian notices the custom of wearing numerous rings: ‘The hand must not be overloaded with rings, especially with such as do not pass over the middle joints of the finger.’ Demosthenes wore many rings and he was stigmatised as unbecomingly vain for doing so in the troubled times of the State.

Seneca, describing the luxury and ostentation of the time, says: ‘We adorn our fingers with rings, and a jewel is displayed on every joint.’

As a proof of the universality of gold rings as ornaments in ancient times, we are told that three bushels of them were gathered out of the spoils after Hannibal’s victory at Cannæ. This was after the second Punic war.

According to Mr. Waterton it is believed that gems were not mounted in rings prior to the LXII. Olympiad.

Nero, we are informed, during his choral exhibitions in the circus, was attended by children, each of whom wore a gold ring. Galba’s guard, of the Equites, had gold rings as a distinguishing badge.

Rock crystal appears to have been much in use among the Romans for making solid finger-rings carved out of one single piece, the face engraved with some intaglio serving for a signet.

‘All those known to me,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King in ‘Precious Stones,’ &c., ‘have the shank moulded into a twisted cable; one example bore for device the Christian monogram, which indicates the date of the fashion. It would seem that these rings superseded and answered the same purpose as the balls of crystal carried at an earlier period by ladies in their hands for the sake of the delicious coolness during the summer heat.’

Stone rings were in common use, formed chiefly of chalcedony. ‘It is most probable,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King, ‘that the first ideas of these stone rings were borrowed by the Romans from the Persian conical and hemispherical seals in the same material. Some of these latter have their sides flattened, and ornamented with divers patterns, and thus assume the form of a finger-ring, with an enormously massy shank and very small opening, sufficient, however, to admit the little finger. And this theory of their origin is corroborated by the circumstance that all these Lower Roman examples belong to the times of the Empire, none being ever met with of an early date.’

Silver rings were common: Pliny relates that Arellius Fuscus, when expelled from the equestrian order, and thus deprived of the right of wearing a gold ring, appeared in public with silver rings on his fingers.

Among the ancient jewels in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris is a fine Roman ring, of which the bezel, a cornelian graved hollow, represents a Janus with four faces.

Roman.

Another Roman ring, also of gold, is attributed to the epoch of the Emperor Hadrian. The three golden figures represented on it are those of Egyptian deities, which have suffered under the hands of a Roman jeweller. It is, however, possible to distinguish them as one of the most important of the Egyptian Pantheon; that is to say, Horus, Isis, and Nephtys. Isis-Hathor is shown with cow’s ears; she has near her Horus-Harpocrates, her son, who is crowned with the schent; the mother and child rise from a lotus flower: on the left is Nephtys, crowned with a hieroglyphic emblem, accidentally incomplete, but the signification of which is the name even of this divinity, ‘the lady of this house.’

Roman.

Montfaucon, in his ‘L’Antiquité Expliquée,’ describes a ring with a gem engraved representing Bellerophon, Pegasus, and the Chimæra. The hero, riding on his famous horse, in the air, throws a dart at the monster below, whose first head is that of a lion, the goat’s head appears on her back, and her tail terminates in a large head of a serpent. This ring was found on the road to Tivoli, among some ashes of a dead body.

Representation of a ring
ornamented with busts
of divinities. From the
Musée du Louvre.

Montfaucon gives the contents of a Roman lady’s jewel box cut upon the pedestal supporting a statue of Isis, and amongst other rich articles for female decoration are, for her little finger, two rings with diamonds; on the next finger a ring with many gems (polypsephus), emeralds, and one pearl. On the top joint of the same finger, a ring with an emerald. The Roman ladies were prodigal in their display of rings: we read that Faustina spent 40,000l. of our money, and Domitia 60,000l. for single rings. Greek women wore chiefly ivory and amber rings, and these were less costly and numerous than those used by men.

The Rev. C. W. King remarks of Roman rings that if of early date, and set with good intagli, they are almost invariably hollow and light, and consequently are easily crushed. Cicero relates of L. Piso, that ‘while prætor in Spain he was going through the military exercises, when the gold ring which he wore was, by some accident, broken and crushed. Wishing to have another ring made for himself, he ordered a goldsmith to be summoned to the forum at Cordova, in front of his own judgment-seat, and weighed out the gold to him in public. He ordered the man to set down his bench in the forum, and make the ring for him in the presence of all, to prove that he had not employed the gold of the public treasury, but had made use only of his broken ring.’

The signs engraved on rings were very various, including portraits of friends and ancestors, and subjects connected with mythology and religion. In the reign of Claudius no ring was to bear the portrait of the emperor without a special licence, but Vespasian, some time after, issued an edict, permitting the imperial image to be engraven on rings and brooches. Besides the figures of great personages, there were also representations of popular events: thus, on Pompey’s ring, like that of Sylla, were three trophies, emblems of his three victories in Europe, Asia, and Africa. After the murder of this great general, his seal-ring, as Plutarch tells us, was brought to Cæsar, who shed tears on receiving it. The Roman senate refused to credit the news of the death of Pompey, until Cæsar produced before them his seal-ring.

Head of Regulus,
between cornucopiæ.

On the ring of Julius Cæsar was a representation of an armed Venus, as he claimed to be a descendant of the goddess. This device was adopted by his partisans; on that of Augustus, first a sphinx; afterwards the image of Alexander the Great, and at last, his own portrait, which succeeding emperors continued to use.[8]

Among the ancients the figures engraved on rings were not hereditary, and each assumed that which pleased him. Numa had made a law prohibiting representations of the gods, but custom abrogated the ordinance, and the Romans had engraved in their rings not only figures of their own deities, but those of other countries, especially of the Egyptians. The physician Asclepiades had a ring with Urania represented upon it. Scipio the African had a sphinx; Cornelius Scipio Africanus, younger son of the great Africanus, wore the portrait of his father, but as his conduct was unworthy of the character of his illustrious sire the people expressed their disgust by depriving him of the ring. Sylla had a Jugurtha; the Epicureans, a head of Epicurus; Commodus, an Amazon, the portrait of his mistress Martia; Aristomenes, an Agathocles, King of Sicily; Callicrates, a Ulysses; the Greeks, Helen; the Trojans, Pergamus; the inhabitants of Heraclia, a Hercules; the Athenians, Solon; the Lacedæmonians, Lycurgus; the Alexandrians, an Alexander; the Seleucians, Seleucus; Mæcenas, a frog; Pompey, a dog on the prow of a ship; the Kings of Sparta, an eagle holding a serpent in its claws; Darius, the son of Hystaspes, a horse; the infamous Sperus, the rape of Proserpine; the Locrians, Hesperus, or the evening star; Polycrates, a lyre; Seleucus, an anchor.

The Rev. C. W. King, in ‘Antique Gems,’ informs us that ‘the earliest mention of a ring-stone in relief occurs in Seneca, who, in a curious anecdote which he tells (“De Beneficiis,” iii. 26) concerning the informer Maro and a certain Paulus, speaks of the latter as having had on his finger on that occasion a portrait of Tiberius in relief upon a projecting gem, “Tiberii Cæsaris imaginem ectypam atque eminente gemma.” This periphrasis would seem to prove that such a representation was not very common at the time, or else a technical term would have been used to express that particular kind of gem-engraving.’

Among the discoveries made during some excavations at Canterbury in 1868 was a Roman ring of exceedingly pure gold, the stone being a very fine and highly-polished onyx, engraved with a Ganymede.

At a meeting of the Archæological Institute at Norwich in 1847 a fine gold Roman ring found at Caistor was exhibited, set with an intaglio on onyx, the subject being the Genius of Victory. The following illustrations of engraved Roman rings are taken from Montfaucon’s ‘L’Antiquité Expliquée’:—

Gold ring, with head of Trajan, radiated.		Silver ring, with head of the Empress Crispina.
Head of the Emperor Gordian III.		Iron ring, with head of Socrates.
Gold ring, with name, Vibianæ.		Iron ring, representing a shepherd and goat.
Jupiter Serapis.		Galba.
Pan and Goat.		Hygeia.
Mercury.		Bust, with inscription ‘Lucilla Acv. Sta. Virgo,’ formerly in the collection of St. Geneviève; added to the splendid Cabinet of Antiquities at Paris in 1796.

The following engraving (from Gorlæus) refers to the story of Masinissa and Sophonisba, well known to classical readers. She was betrothed at a very early age to the Numidian prince, but was afterwards married to Syphax, B.C. 206. This warrior, in a battle with Masinissa, was conquered, and Sophonisba became a prisoner to the Numidian prince, who, won by her charms, married her. Scipio, fearing her influence, persisted in his immediate surrender of the princess, and Masinissa, to spare her the humility of captivity, sent her a bowl of poison, which she drank without hesitation, and thus perished.

Ring with figures of
Masinissa and Sophonisba.

The portraits of Caligula and Drusilla, in an iron ring, made to turn from one side to the other (Gorlæus):—

Caligula and Drusilla.

A representation of Victory, suspending a shield to a palm-tree (Gorlæus):—

Roman ring of ‘Victory.’

With regard to the engraved representations on rings, Clemens Alexandrinus gives some advice to the Christians of the second century: ‘Let the engraving upon the stone be either a pigeon, or a fish, or a ship running before the wind, or a musical lyre, which was the device used by Polycrates; or a ship’s anchor, which Seleucus had cut upon his signet; and if it represents a man fishing, the wearer will be put in mind of the Apostle, and of the little children drawn up out of the water. For we must not engrave on them images of idols, which we are forbidden even to look at; nor a sword, nor a bow, being the followers of peace, nor drinking goblets, being sober men.’ (See Chapter IV., ‘Rings in connexion with ecclesiastical usages,’ religious rings.) The Rev. C. W. King remarks that ‘the practice of engraving licentious subjects on rings was very prevalent in Ancient Rome. Ateius Capito, a famous lawyer of the Republic, highly censured the practice of wearing figures of deities on rings, on account of the profanation to which they were exposed.’

Roman.

The same distinguished writer mentions an antique gold ring now in the Florentine Cabinet, set with a cameo, which evidently shows that it belonged to some Roman sporting gentleman, who, as the poet says, ‘held his wife a little higher than his horse,’ for it is set with a cameo-head of a lady, of tolerable work in garnet, and on the shoulders of the ring are intaglio busts of his two favourite steeds; also a garnet with their names cut in the gold on each side—Amor and Ospis. On the outside of the shank is the legend Pomphonica, ‘success to thee, Pomphius,’ very neatly engraved on the gold.

In the possession of Captain Spratt is a remarkably fine specimen of early Greek work, a large ring of thin gold, set with an intaglio on very fine red sard, oval, of most unusual size, representing a figure of Abundantia beside an altar; the edge of the setting slightly bended; the stone held in its position by thin points of gold. This most important gem is in its original gold setting, and was purchased in June 1845 at Milo, where it had been found the previous year, within a short distance of the theatre, near the position in which the Venus of Milo had been discovered about thirty years previously.

Such was the value attached by the Romans to the setting of gems in rings, that Nonius, a senator, is said to have been proscribed by Antony, for the sake of a precious opal, valued at 20,000l. of our money, which he would not relinquish.

The taste for engraved gems, ‘grew,’ observes the Rev. C. W. King, ‘into an ungovernable passion, and was pushed by its noble votaries to the last degree of extravagance. Pliny seriously attributes to nothing else the ultimate downfall of the Republic; for it was in a quarrel about a ring at a certain auction that the feud originated between the famous demagogue Drusus, and the chief senator Cæpio, which led to the breaking out of the Social War, and to all its fatal consequences.’

In the Braybrooke Collection is a gold Roman finger-ring, with two hands clasping a turquoise in token of concord: this device, a favourite one in mediæval times, has thus an early origin. In the same collection is a beautiful Romano-British gold ring, chased to imitate the scales of a serpent, which it resembles in form: the eyelet-holes have been set with some coloured gem, or paste, now lost.

Sometimes the decoration of a ring was not confined to a single gem. Valerian speaks of the annulus bigemmis, and Gorlæus gives specimens; one, the larger gem of which has cut upon it the figure of Mars, holding a spear and helmet, but wearing only the chlamys; the smaller gem is incised with a dove and myrtle-branch. Engraved are two examples of the emblematic devices and inscriptions adopted for classic rings when used as memorial gifts. The first is inscribed,—‘You have a love-pledge,’ the second,—‘Proteros (to) Ugiæ,’ between conjoined hands.

Roman ‘memorial’ gift-rings.

The annexed illustration represents a jewelled ring of gold, considered to be of Roman work. It is formed with nine little bosses, set with uncut gems, emeralds, garnets, and a sapphire: one only, supposed to be a blue spinel, is cut in pyramidal fashion.

Anglo-Roman.

A similar ring, of gold, found in Barton, Oxfordshire, may, probably, be ascribed to the same period of the Roman rule in Britain. Weight 3 dwts. 16 grains. (‘Archæological Journal,’ vol. vi. p. 290.)

The Roman ring here given must have been inconvenient to the wearer from its form, but may have been used as a signet. Rings were chiefly used by the Romans for sealing letters and papers; also cellars, chests, casks, &c.[9] They were affixed to certain signs, or symbols, used for tokens, like what we call tallies, or tally-sticks, and given in contracts instead of a bill, or bond, or for any sign. Rings were also given by those who agreed to club for an entertainment, to the person commissioned to bespeak it, from symbola, a reckoning; hence, symbolam dare, to pay his reckoning. Rings were also given as votive offerings to the gods.

In 1841 a curious discovery was made at Lyons of the jewel-case of a Roman lady containing a complete trousseau, including rings: one is of gold, the hoop slightly ovular, and curving upward to a double leaf, supporting three cup-shaped settings, one still retaining its stone, an Arabian emerald. Another is also remarkable for its general form, and still more so for its inscription, ‘Veneri et Tvtele Votvm,’ explained by M. Comarmond as a dedication to Venus, and the local goddess Tutela, who was believed to be the protector of the navigators of the Rhine; hence he infers these jewels to have belonged to the wife of one of those rich traders in the reign of Severus.

Roman rings, found at Lyons.

Boeckh’s Inscriptions (dating from the Peloponnesian War) enumerate in the Treasury of the Parthenon, among other sacred jewels, the following rings: an onyx set in a gold ring; ditto in a silver ring; a jasper set in a gold ring; a jasper seal, enclosed in gold, seemingly a mounted scarabæus; a signet in a gold ring, dedicated by Dexilla (the two last were evidently cut in the gold itself); two gem signets set in one gold ring; two signets in silver rings, one plated with gold; seven signets of coloured glass plated with gold (i.e. their settings); eight silver rings, and one gold piece, fine (probably a Daric), a gold ring of 1½ drs. offered by Axiothea, wife of Socles; a gold ring with one gold piece, fine, tied to it, offered by Phryniscus, the Thessalian; a plain gold ring weighing ½ dr. offered by Pletho of Ægina (a widow’s mite).

Fabia Fabiana, a Roman lady, offered in honour of her granddaughter Avita, amongst other costly gifts, two rings on her little finger with diamonds, on the next finger a ring with many gems, emeralds and one pearl; on the top joint of the same ring, a ring with an emerald. ‘The notice of the two diamond-rings and the emerald-ring on the top joint of the ring-finger are,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King, ‘very curious. The pious old lady had evidently offered the entire set of jewels belonging to her deceased grandchild for the repose of her soul.’

Roman.

The annexed engraving represents a remarkably fine Roman bronze ring of a curious shape. The parts nearest the collet are flat and resemble a triangle from which the summit has been cut. The peculiarity of the ring is an intaglio, here represented, cut out of the material itself, representing a youthful head. The two triangular portions which start from the table of the ring are filled with ornaments, also engraved hollow. Upon it is the word Vivas, or Mayest thou live; probably a gift of affection, or votive offering.

In many of the Roman keys that have been discovered the ring was actually worn on the finger. The shank disappears, and the wards are at right angles to the ring, or in the direction of the length of the finger.

Roman ‘Key-rings.’

When a person, at the point of death, delivered his ring to anyone, it was esteemed a mark of particular affection. The Romans not only took off the rings from the fingers of the dead, but also from such as fell into a very deep sleep or lethargy. Pliny observes: ‘Gravatis somno aut morientibus religione quadam annuli detrahuntur.’ Some have conjectured that Spartian alludes to this custom where, taking notice in the Life of the Emperor Hadrian of the tokens of his approaching death, he says: ‘Signa mortis hæc habuit: annulus in quo Imago ejus sculpta erat, sponte de digito lapsus est.’ The ring, with his own image on it, fell of itself from his finger. Morestellus thinks they took the rings from the fingers for fear the Pollinctores, or they who prepared the body for the funeral, should take them for themselves, because when the dead body was laid on the pile they put the rings on the fingers again, and burnt them with the corpse.

The custom of burning the dead lasted to the time of Theodosius the Great, as Gothofredus states. Macrobius, who lived under Theodosius the Younger, says the custom of burning the dead had quite ceased in his time.

The Romans commonly wore the rings on the digitus annularis, the fourth finger, and upon the left hand, but this custom was not always observed. Clemens Alexandrinus remarks that men ought to wear the ring at the bottom of the little finger, that they might have their hand more at liberty. For Pliny’s account of this, and other ring customs, I refer the reader to the Appendix at the end of this volume.

The clients of a Roman lawyer (remarks Fosbroke), usually presented him, as a birthday present, with a ring, which was only used on that occasion.

Rings were given among the Romans on birthdays—generally the most solemn festival among them, when they dressed and ornamented themselves, with as much grandeur as they could afford, to receive their guests. Persius alludes to the natal ring in his first Satire, in which a ring, richly set with precious stones, figures as a part of the ceremonial.

The gladiators often wore heavy rings, a blow from which was sometimes fatal. The ring of the first barbarian chief who entered and sacked Rome was a curious cornelian inscribed ‘Alaricus rex Gothorum.’

In the famous Castellani Collection of Antiques, now in the British Museum, are some splendid specimens of Roman rings: one with an uncut crystal of diamond, a stone of great rarity, and highly prized; also a minute votive ring set with a cameo, which probably adorned the finger of a statuette; a curious double ring for two fingers. The early Christian rings are very remarkable; one has a crossed ‘P’ in gold, formerly filled with stones or enamel; another has an anchor for device, and one a ship, emblematic of the Church.

Amongst the Greek rings in this superb collection is the most splendid intaglio, on gold, ever discovered; the bust of some Berenice or Arsinoe side by side with that of Serapis; the ring itself, plain and very massive, is, as the Rev. C. W. King observes, ‘a truly royal signet.’

A ring in the Londesborough Collection bears the Labarum, the oldest monogram of Christianity, derived from the vision in which Constantine believed he saw the sacred emblem, and placed it on his standard with the motto, ‘In hoc signo vinces.’ This ring came from the Roman sepulchre of an early Christian.

An engraving of another ring in the same collection of massive silver is inscribed Sabbina, most probably a love-gift.

Roman.

The following represents a bronze ‘legionary’ ring, of oval form, with flattened bezel, supposed to be Early Christian; obtained from Rome (‘Arch. Journal,’ vol. xxvi. p. 146):—

Roman ‘Legionary’ ring.

Another, of the same description, is more elaborate:—

The collections of our English antiquaries contain numerous specimens of Roman rings. At Uriconium several have been found of very varied materials. Rings formed of bone, amber,[10] and glass were provided for the poorer people, as was the case in ancient Egypt.

Roman amber and glass rings.

In the later period of the Roman empire a more ostentatious decoration of rings, derived from Byzantium, became common. In Montfaucon we find illustrations of this change from the classical simplicity of earlier times.

A specimen of this character is given by Montfaucon:—

Byzantine.

The annexed represents a gold ring, probably of the fifth or sixth century, found at Constantinople (‘Arch. Journal,’ vol. xxvi. p. 146):—

Byzantine.

In the Museum at Naples are two fine specimens of rings discovered at Herculaneum and Pompeii, illustrations of which are here given from the work of M. Louis Barré, ‘Herculaneum et Pompeii’ (Paris, 1839-40):—

Rings from Herculaneum and Pompeii.

A bronze ring is curious from having similar ornaments to those of the horse-furniture discovered some years ago at Stanwick, on the estates of the Duke of Northumberland in Yorkshire, and which are analogous in the character of their design to those found in Roman places of sepulture in Rhenish Germany.

Roman.

Representation of a ‘trophy’ ring in the Museum of the Hermitage, St. Petersburg; the figure of a lion on the convex; on the reverse a trophy:—

In the Waterton Collection are some valuable and curious specimens of Greek and Roman art in ring-manufacture. These are composed of gold, silver, bronze, iron, lead, earthenware, amber, vitreous paste, jet, white cornelian, lapis-lazuli, chrysoprase, &c. Amongst these will be seen some interesting Roman rings for children; one engraved with a rude figure of Victory, found at Rietri, in 1856, diam. ⁹⁄16 in. In the same collection are bronze ‘legionary’ rings—perhaps the number of a ‘centuria,’ some corps employed about Rome, where all the rings of this character connected with the collection have been found.

Among the ‘votive’ rings in this collection, is one in the form of a shoe, inscribed Felix, of bronze.

There are also specimens of rings with the key on the hoop, to which I have alluded in the chapter on ‘Betrothal and Wedding Rings.’ One has a fluted pipe; another has a key with two wards; in another the key is riveted on the hoop.

Roman Key-rings.

The earthenware rings are of brown or red. The amber rings are of mottled deep red, set with green paste. Those in vitreous paste are of pale blue, transparent yellowish and transparent brown. A ‘jet’ ring belongs to the late Roman period. A white cornelian ring has a smaller part of the hoop cut down, so as to form an oval bezel, on which is engraved a standing figure of Æsculapius. A gold ring, Roman, set with oval intaglio, on cornelian, of a trophy consisting of a horse’s head bridled, and two Gallic shields crossed, with the name of Q. Cornel Lupi, is the seal of Quintus Cornelius Lupus, commemorating a victory over the Gauls: the setting is modern. Another gold ring, with oval bezel, set with an intaglio on yellow sard, has a youthful bust, full-faced; on one side a spear, on the other side, in Greek letters, ‘Hermai.’ A gold ring with nicoli onyx is inscribed ‘Vibas Luxuri Homo Bone.’

Some of the ‘Early Christian’ rings in the same collection are very interesting. These are of silver, bronze, and lead. One of silver has an octagonal bezel engraved with the Agnus Dei; another, of bronze, has a square bezel inscribed ‘Vivas in Deo’; a bronze ring with oval bezel is chased with a lamb, the shoulders and hoop chased so as to represent a wreath of palms; another, of bronze, has a projecting octagonal bezel, engraved with a dove and a star, the hoop formed so as to resemble a wreath. A massive bronze ring has the bezel engraved with the figure of an orante; on the hoop is also a sigillum engraved with a cross. One ring, of lead, has a flattened bezel rudely incised with a cross.

The following engraving represents the fore-finger, from a bronze statue, of late Roman workmanship, on which a large ring is seen on the second joint. A similar custom prevails in Germany.

Late Roman (from the Waterton Collection).

The latest ‘surprise’ in regard to rings is that in connection with Dr. Schliemann’s discovery of antiquities upon the presumed site of Troy. The Doctor, in June 1873, after indefatigable exertions in excavating, came upon a trouvaille consisting of ancient relics of great rarity, value, and importance, including finger-rings, of which, as I have mentioned, the Homeric writings make no mention. These were found among a marvellous assemblage of bronze, silver, and gold objects, which lay together in a heap within a small space. This seemed to indicate that they had originally been packed in a chest which had perished in a conflagration (most of the articles having been exposed to the action of fire), a bronze key being found near them. The period to which these objects belong is the subject of much controversy, but their origin must date from a very remote period.

Among our British, Saxon, and Mediæval ancestors, rings were in common use. Pliny (‘Hist. Nat.’ lib. xxxiii. c. 6) mentions, that the Britons wore the ring on the middle finger. In the account of the gold, silver, and jewellery belonging to Edward the First is mentioned ‘a gold ring with a sapphire, the workmanship of St. Dunstan.’ Aldhelm, ‘De Laud. Virg.’, describes a lady with bracelets, necklaces, and rings set with gems on her fingers. Rings are frequently mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon annals. They appear to have been worn then on the finger next to the little finger, and on the right hand—for a Saxon bard calls that the golden finger—and we find recorded that a right hand was once cut off on account of this ornament.

Anglo-Saxon.

Early British (?) ring, found at Malton.

It was not uncommon for Saxon gold rings to have the name of the owner for a legend. Some of the rings of the Anglo-Saxon period which have been discovered would not discredit the workmanship of a modern artificer. One of the most interesting relics of enamelled art which is exhibited in the medal room of the British Museum is the gold ring of Ethelwulf, King of Wessex (A.D. 837-857), the father of Alfred the Great. It was found in the parish of Laverstock, Hampshire, in a cart-rut, where it had become much crushed and defaced. Its weight is 11 dwts. 14 grains. This ring was presented to the British Museum by Lord Radnor, in 1829. Ethelwulf became later in life a monk at Winchester, where he had been educated, and he died there. No reasonable ground can be alleged for doubting the authenticity of this ring.[11]

Ring of Ethelwulf.

M. de Laborde, in his ‘Notice des Émaux, &c., du Louvre,’ considers the character of the design and ornament to be Saxon; and there is every reason to suppose it was the work of a Saxon artist.

In connexion with this valuable relic is the gold ring of Æthelswith, Queen of Mercia, the property of the Rev. W. Greenwell, F.S.A., by whom it was exhibited at a meeting of the Society of Antiquaries in January 1875. On this occasion, A. W. Franks, Esq., Director of the Society, made the following observations:—‘This ring is one of the most remarkable relics of antiquity that has appeared in our rooms for many years past.

‘It was ploughed up in Yorkshire, between Aberford and Sherburn in the West Riding, and it is said that the fortunate finder attached it to the collar of his dog as an ornament. It is of gold, weighing 312 grains; the outer surface is engraved, and partly filled up with niello. In the centre of the bezel is the Agnus Dei, accompanied by the letters A.D. The second letter has a stroke passing through it, so as to resemble the Saxon th. If this stroke is not to be considered a simple contraction, it may be intended for ἀρνὸς or ἀρνίον Φεοῦ. In the half circle on each side are conventional animals or monsters; the whole is surrounded by a border of dots, much worn in places. The most remarkable part of the ring, however, is the inscription within, which is in letters large in proportion to the surface they occupy, and which read Eathelsvith Regna. These letters, excepting the two last, are in double outline. The engraver seems to have miscalculated the space necessary, and has left out one letter towards the end and given the NA in single lines; or, perhaps, the I and the N are combined in a monogram.

‘The inscription is perfectly genuine, and we have, therefore, before us the ring of Queen Æthelswith. The only person to whom, with any probability, this inscription can be applied is Æthelswith, daughter of Ethelwulf, and wife of Burgred or Burhred, King of Mercia. She was thus sister to Alfred the Great. According to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, under the year 853 (854), Burhred, King of the Mercians, prayed in that year King Ethelwulf to aid him in reducing the North Welsh to obedience, which he did; the Easter after which King Ethelwulf gave his daughter in marriage to Burhred. She appears as witness to the charter of Burhred in 855 and 857, and 866 and 869 (Kemble’s Codex, cclxxvii., cclxxviii., cclxxx., ccxci., ccxii., ccxcix.). In 868 we have a charter giving to her faithful servant Cuthwulf land in Lacinge. About 872-4 she is witness to a charter of Æthelred, Duke of Mercia. In 888 (889) we learn from the “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle” that she died:—“And Queen Æthelswith, who was King Alfred’s sister, died on the way to Rome, and her body lies at Pavia.”

‘She was daughter of Ethelwulf by Osburh, daughter of Oslac, the King’s cup-bearer, and must have been many years older than her brother Alfred, as he was only five years old at the time of her marriage.

‘With regard to the inscription within the ring, it may be noticed that it exhibits scarcely any traces of wear, while the edges of the ring show marks of having been long worn. The engraving (which illustrates this explanation in the “Proceedings of the Society”) moreover, scarcely looks like the work of a goldsmith. I would, therefore, suggest that the Queen had probably offered this ring at some shrine, and the priests connected with the shrine had engraved her name within the ring, to record the royal giver. It could scarcely have been deposited in her tomb, as she is recorded to have been buried at Pavia.’

In the rings of King Ethelwulf and his daughter, certain symmetrically-placed portions of the design are not filled with niello. These may (observes Mr. Franks) have been enriched with some coloured mastic now perished. It has been habitual to describe the inlaying of Ethelwulf’s ring as blue enamel, which is certainly an error. Enamel was very seldom employed by the Anglo-Saxon jeweller, and enamel and niello could with difficulty be applied to the same object, on account of the different heat at which these two substances melt.

An illustration of the remarkable ring of the Queen of Mercia is displayed on the cover of this work.

Rings were given in Anglo-Saxon times to propitiate royal favours. Thus, towards the end of the tenth century, Beorhtric, a wealthy noble in Kent, left in his will a ring worth thirty mancuses of gold that the queen might be his advocate that the will should stand. In the Braybrooke Collection is a plain silver ring, inscribed on the top of the exterior of the hoop, with the Anglo-Saxon word ‘Dolȝbot,’ the meaning of which is, compensation made for giving a man a wound, either by a stab or blow. This ring is ornamented by a simple wavy line, and dots, as if to represent a branch, and was found in Essex. From its size, probably a woman’s ring—perhaps for injury, or the death of her husband.

There are various nielloed rings of the Saxon period; notably a gold ring with an inscription, and partly in runes, meaning ‘Alhreds owns me, Eanred engraved (or wrought) me,’ now in the British Museum, which also has a gold ring with two facets, found in the river Nene, near Peterborough, engraved in the Archæological Institute Proceedings for 1856.

Anglo-Saxon.

Plain wire rings were used by the South Saxons; specimens have been obtained in Anglo-Saxon grave-mounds in England, and others, identical in form, in the old Saxon cemeteries in Germany. Mr. Fairholt says: ‘In the museum at Augsburg are several, which were found in cutting for the railway near that city. One of the plain wire rings’ (the first of our illustrations) ‘was exhumed from a tumulus on Chartham Downs, a few miles from Canterbury, in 1773, by the Rev. Bryan Faussett, who says: “The bones were those of a very young person. Upon the neck was a cross of silver, a few coloured earthen beads, and two silver rings with sliding knots.” The second illustration—a wire ring, twisted so as to resemble a seal ring—was discovered in a Saxon cemetery on Kingston Downs, Canterbury.’

Early Saxon rings, found near Salisbury.

The simplest form of finger-ring worn by our ancestors, consisted of a band of metal, merely twisted round to embrace the finger, and open at either end. One of these rings found upon the finger-bone of an early Saxon, in excavating at Harnham Hill, near Salisbury, was found on the middle finger of the right hand of a person of advanced age. Sometimes several rings were found on one hand. Among the bones of the fingers of the left hand of an adult skeleton was found a silver ring of solid form, another of spiral form, and a plain gold ring. Mr. Akerman, who superintended these researches, says: ‘Similar rings have been found at Little Wilbraham, at Linton Heath, at Fairford, and other localities. They are, for the most part, of a uniform construction, being so contrived that they could be expanded or contracted, and adapted to the size of the finger of the wearer.’

South Saxon ring,
found in the Thames.

In the Waterton Collection is a very curious South Saxon ring, described as ‘an elongated oval with a circular centre; within the circle is the conventional figure of a dragon, surrounded by four convoluted ornaments, reminding one of the prevailing enrichments so lavishly bestowed on old Runic ornaments, at home and abroad. Four quaintly-formed heads of dragons occupy the triangular spaces above and below this centre. The ground between the ornaments has been cut down, probably for the insertion of niello or enamel colour.’ It was found in the Thames at Chelsea in 1856.

At a meeting of the Royal Archæological Institute in June 1873 Mr. J. J. Rogers exhibited some Anglo-Saxon bronze rings which were found in a cave, in the parish of St. Keverne, Cornwall.

The Duke of Northumberland possesses a beautiful ring of pale-coloured gold (weight 157 grains), set with a ruby-coloured gem, surrounded with filagree work, the hoop beaded with small circles, punched, as on work of the Saxon age. It was discovered, about 1812, by a boy who was ploughing, near Watershaugh, Northumberland, and found the ring fixed on the point of his ploughshare.

In the collection of R. H. Soden Smith, Esq., F.S.A., is a curious Anglo-Saxon ring, found about ten feet below the surface of the ground, in making Garrick Street, Covent Garden. It is of gold, the hoop nearly half an inch wide, with a broad oval bezel, expanding to 1³⁄16 inches; the gold pale, alloyed with silver. The whole is overlaid with funiform wire ornaments and granulated work; on the bezel are four curves of beaded filagree radiating from the centre ornament, and having smaller bosses of similar work between.[12]

Spiral elastic band rings of Anglo-Saxon work have been found in considerable numbers in excavations. Douglas, in his ‘Nenia Britannica,’ describes many specimens under this term, found by him in the graves of Anglo-Saxon tribes.

Ancient Irish rings, found near Drogheda.

In the earlier history of Ireland we find instances of a wonderful development of artistic skill in goldsmith work. The Royal Irish Academy possesses some beautiful specimens of rings. The Londesborough Collection includes two remarkable rings which were found with other gold ornaments near the remarkable tumulus, known as ‘New Grange,’ a few miles from Drogheda. They were accidentally discovered in 1842 by a labouring man, within a few yards to the entrance of the tumulus, at the depth of two feet from the surface of the ground, and without any covering or protection from the earth about them. Another labouring man, hearing of this discovery, carefully searched the spot whence they were taken, and found a denarius of Geta. The stone set in both rings is a cut agate.

Aildergoidhe, son of Muinheamhoin, monarch of Ireland, who reigned 3070 A.M., is traditionally said to have been the first prince who introduced the wearing of gold rings into Ireland, which he bestowed on persons of merit who excelled in knowledge of the arts and sciences.

Early Irish gold ring.

The engraving (from the ‘Archæological Journal,’ June 1848), represents a gold ring twisted, or plaited, of early Irish work, in the fine collection of antiquities of Edwin Hoare, Esq., of Cork.

The ‘Alhstan’ ring.

The Alhstan ring, engraved and described in the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. iv. p. 47), is in the Waterton Collection. Some observations on this very remarkable ring are given by that learned antiquary, the Rev. Mr. Pegge. It was found by a labourer on the surface of the ground at Llysfaen in Caernarvonshire. It is of good workmanship, and weighs about an ounce. It bears the inscription of Alhstan, which was a common Saxon name. Mr. Pegge appropriates the ring to the Bishop of Sherborne of that name, because the dragon of Wessex, apparent in the first lozenge, was not only the device on the royal standard of Wessex, but the Bishop of Sherborne had often conducted armies under it, having been much engaged in affairs of war. The prelate died in 867, in the beginning of the reign of Ethelred I.

Anglo-Saxon ring, found near Bosington.

In the Journal of the British Archæological Association (vol. i.) is a cut of an Anglo-Saxon gold-ring, discovered at Bosington, near Stockbridge; it is of considerable thickness, ornamented with rich chain-work, and has in its centre a male head, round which is inscribed ‘Nomen Ehlla Fid in xpo,’—my name is Ella; my faith is in Christ. It is now in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford.

In 1840 at Cuerdale, near Preston, some curious discoveries of coins and treasure were made, considered to have been deposited about the year 910, and the ornaments such as were worn about the time of Alfred, or somewhat earlier. These included several rings, representations of which are given in the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. iv. p. 127). One is merely a piece of metal hammered flat, thinner and narrower at the ends, and formed into a circle; the ends lapping over, but without any fastening. It is entirely without ornament. In some specimens the metal is hammered and bent into the form of a ring, in the same manner as the flat one. Two rings are formed exactly like some armlets, found at the same time; the punch has had a triangular point, and triangles conjoined at their bases having been struck side by side, parallel rows of sunk lozenges have been produced. Another ring has been hammered into a small four-sided bar, then twisted, and ultimately formed into a ring, the ends of which meet, but have not been united. In another ring two wires have been hammered into a roundish form, tapering towards the ends, which have been tied together. Each wire has been ornamented by transverse blows of a blunt chisel, and has the appearance of being also twisted; these two have been twined together to form one ring.

In a communication from Mr. Worsaae, of Copenhagen, to the ‘Archæological Journal,’ he observes that the triangular pattern with three or four points on the Cuerdale rings differs totally from the designs on Celtic, Roman, or Saxon remains, and which never seems to occur on any objects found in the interior or southern parts of Europe. ‘To the instances which Mr. Hawkins has already cited of similar patterns on silver objects found in Denmark and in Finland, I can only add that I have seen precisely similar objects with the same pattern in Ireland, Prussia, and Sweden, and that in the interior of Russia, in tumuli in the neighbourhood of Moscow, the same patterns have been found on rings. In nearly every instance these ornaments have been found along with oriental or Cufic coins, as in the case at Cuerdale.’ Mr. Worsaae is of opinion that they are of eastern origin, and were brought to the north in the same way as the oriental coins.

In the collection of antiquities of the Royal Irish Academy there are two curious specimens of rings; one, like a ferule, fluted both externally and internally, so as to resemble seven plain rings, attached to one another; and their weight is 9 dwts.

Rings in the Royal Irish Academy.

The other is a five-sided bar of gold, flat on the inside near the finger, and angular externally; weight 1 oz. 12 dwts. 6 grs. This might be denominated a torque ring.

The following illustration represents a spiral silver ring, found at Largo, weighing 120 grs. It is shaped, apparently, by the hammer. The edges are serrated. A spiral ring found with Saxon remains in Kent, engraved by Douglas in his ‘Nenia,’ and another found in the Isle of Wight, represented in the ‘Winchester’ volume of the Archæological Association, may be compared with the present example.

Spiral silver ring.

Dr. Mantell has a massive gold ring, supposed to have been worn on the finger, formed of two square bars rudely twisted together, and gradually diminishing in size towards the extremities, where they are united together. It was ploughed up at Bormer, in Sussex, and was presented to Dr. Mantell by the Earl of Chichester. It is represented in Horsfield’s ‘History of Lewes,’ plate iv. Similar rings of this description, but differing in the fashion of the twist, have been noticed as found in Britain. The resemblance between these ornaments and the gold ‘ring-money’ of the interior of Africa is exceedingly curious.

Ring: Flodden Field.

The annexed engraving (from the ‘Archæological Journal,’ vol. iii. p. 269) represents a gold ring, belonging to Sir Noel Paton, F.S.A., Scotland, reported to have been found on the field of Flodden: weight 8 dwts. 17 grs. Other rings of a similar form have been discovered, and ‘they appear to offer some analogy with the torc of the Celtic age.’

The annexed illustration represents a remarkably fine ring engraved in Chifflet’s ‘Anastasis Childerici’ (1655), on the same page as that of the Childeric ring (described in the chapter on ‘Memorial and Mortuary Rings’), for purposes of comparison, in carrying out his original theory, that the supposed bees of Childeric were, by gradual transition, converted into the figure known as the fleur de lys of a later monarchy, as he endeavours to illustrate by numerous diagrams, but he omits to say where this ring marked ‘sapphirus’ was originally found. It is a mere supposition that the figure represents St. Louis, but in Montfaucon’s ‘Monuments de la Monarchie Française’ (Paris, 1729), in a long disquisition on the origin, &c., of the fleur de lys, on referring to plate xxiii. tom. ii. p. 158, where St. Louis ‘instruit ses enfans,’ his shield is noticed as bearing for the first time three fleurs de lys.

Sandford, in his ‘Genealogical History’ (pp. 270, 289), says that Henry the Fifth, being Prince of Wales, ‘did bear azure, 3 flowers de lys or, for the Kingdom of France, reducing them from semée to the number 3, as did Charles VI., the present King.’

Among the old Northmen rings were generally worn by rich people and persons of rank. Such rings are frequently found in barrows of pagan date, and from their nature and quality it is easy to determine that they were generally of very simple workmanship; the reason of which, undoubtedly, was that they were used instead of money in commercial transactions, and had, therefore, not unfrequently to be cut asunder. Still, rings of more artistic workmanship are sometimes found in pagan graves.

The preceding cuts are taken from examples in the Royal Museum, Copenhagen, of the curious twisted spiral rings alluded to, found in the graves of the old Northmen.

Charlemagne sealed all his acts with his ring. That of his son Louis le Débonnaire had for inscription XPE. PROTÈGE HELLDOVICUNI. IMPERATOREM.

From the reign of Hugh Capet each King had his particular seal-ring. St. Louis had for device a ring interlaced with a garland of lilies and daisies, in allusion to his name and that of his queen.

Two curious rings of early date are here represented: one a seal-ring of the Frankish period, found near Allonnes (Sarthe) bearing the monogram Lanoberga; the other, of gold, Merovingian, found in Vitry-le-Français, supposed to be a conjugal ring, with inscription.

The annexed illustration represents a gold ring, in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, with the initials S. R., and supposed by the Abbé Cochet (‘La Normandie Souterraine’) to mean ‘Sigebertus Rex,’ but which of the three Sigeberts, Kings of Austrasia (the name given, under the Merovingians, to the eastern possessions of the Franks), cannot be conjectured.

Merovingian.

To a similar period may, perhaps, be ascribed the ring found near Blois, represented in the following engraving:—

Merovingian.

The annexed cuts represent a gold signet-ring, inscribed ‘Heva,’ and a seal-ring, both of the Merovingian period.

Merovingian.

A remarkable ring of the Merovingian period, now in the collection of R. H. Soden Smith, Esq., F.S.A., was exhibited at the Archæological Institute in 1874. It is a massive gold ring, with oval bezel 1¼ inches long, by 1 inch in width, set with an antique polished chalcedony of two layers, the edges bevelled. The setting is rather more than a quarter of an inch deep, and is formed of a band of gold, supported by perpendicular ridges, made by folding another thick band, or ribbon, of gold; a double row of pellets of gold, and others on the shoulder of the hoop, add to the rich effect of the whole. The hoop is a somewhat rude angular band, with a zigzag punched ornament round it. This ring was found in the neighbourhood of Bristol.

It was in the Middle Ages, however, after a period of comparative mediocrity, that the greatest degree of perfection in goldsmiths’ work, and especially in rings, began to display itself. In the reign of Edward III. (1363), so great was the extravagance in dress and decoration that an Act was passed to repress the evil. All persons under the rank of Knighthood, or of less property than two hundred pounds in land and tenements, were forbidden to wear rings, and other articles of jewellery.

Gold ‘Middle Age’ ring,
from the Louvre.

In the ‘Vision of Pierce Ploughman,’ written, it is supposed, about this date, the poet speaks of a richly-adorned lady, whose fingers were all embellished with rings of gold, set with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.

In a parchment roll of Prayers to the Virgin in the Library of Jesus College, Oxford, which formerly belonged to Margaret of Anjou, there is a portrait of that queen who is represented wearing two rings on each finger except the least, placed on the middle as well as the third joint of the fingers—a fashion probably introduced by her, and shown in the curious portrait of this queen on the tapestry at Coventry.

In later ages we find the same practice of ornamenting the fingers with several rings. In the description of a Scottish woman of the middle of the sixteenth century, attributed to Dunbar, we find:—

On ilkune fyngar scho weirit ringis tuo
Scho was als proud an ony papingo.

Queen Elizabeth had an immoderate love for jewellery; and the description given of her dresses covered with gems of the greatest rarity and beauty reads like a romance. For finger-rings she had a remarkable fondness. Paul Hentzner, in his ‘Journey into England,’ 1598, relates that a Bohemian baron having letters to present to her at the palace of Greenwich, the queen, after pulling off her glove, ‘gave him her right hand to kiss, sparkling with rings and jewels—a mark of particular favour.’

Rings on the effigy of Lady Stafford.

In Bromsgrove Church, Staffordshire, are the fine monumental effigies of Sir Humphrey Stafford and his lady (1450)—remarkable alike for the rich armour of the knight and the courtly costume of the lady. She wears a profusion of rings; every finger, except the little finger of the right hand, being furnished with one. They exhibit great variety of design. The two hands are lifted in prayer.

‘In the Duke of Newcastle’s comedy,’ observes Mr. Fairholt, ‘the “Country Captain” (1649), a lady of title is told that when she resides in the country a great show of finger rings will not be necessary: “Show your white hand, with but one diamond, when you carve, and be not ashamed to wear your own ringe with the old posie.” That many rings were worn by persons of both sexes is clear from another passage in the same play, where a fop is described, ‘who makes his fingers like jewellers’ cards to set rings upon.’

The same custom prevailed in France. Mercier, in his ‘Tableau de France,’ mentions that at the close of the eighteenth century enormous rings were worn. The hand of a woman presented a collection of rings, ‘et si ces bagues étaient des antiques, elles offriraient un échantillon d’un cabinet des pierres gravées.’ He adds that ‘the nuptial ring is now unnoticed on the fingers of women; wide and profane rings altogether conceal this warrant of their faith.’

So important a business was the making of rings that it was separated from the ordinary work of the goldsmith, and became a distinct trade.

In the sixteenth century, among the various articles carried by the pedlar rings were reckoned. In Heywood’s ‘Four PP (A Newe and a very mery Enterlude of a Palmer, a Pardoner, a Potycary, and a Pedler),’ the Potycary addresses the Pedler:—

What the devyll hast thou there at thy backe?—

to which he replies:—

What dost thou not knowe that every pedler
In all kinde of trifles must be a medler?
Gloves, pinnes, combes, glasses unspotty’d,
Pomanders, hookes, and lases knottyed;
Broches, rynges, and all maner of bedes.

The instances in which brooches and rings are mentioned together are numerous. In Scott’s edition of Sir Tristrem (pages 23, 28) we find:—

Who gaf broche and beighe (ring)?
Who but Douk Morgan?
A loud thai sett that sleigh
With all his winning yare
With broche and riche beighe.

In the Chester Mystery Plays the shepherds do not know what to present to the Babe of Bethlehem, and Secundus Pastor says:—

Goe we nere anon, with such as we have broughte,
Ringe, broche, ner precious stoune,
Let us see yf we have oughte to proffer.

And the ‘first boye’ adds:—

Nowe Lorde for to geve thee have I no thinge,
Neither goulde, silver, broche, ner ringe.

In the old ballad of Redisdale and Wise William the lady is enticed with rich presents:—

Come down, come down, my lady fair,
A sight of you i’ll see,
And bonny jewels, broaches, rings,
I will give unto thee.

to which she replies:—

If you have bonny broaches, rings,
Oh, mine are bonny tee,
Go from my yettes, now, Reedisdale,
For me ye shall not see.

Of the later period of ring decoration there are some splendid specimens in various collections. Mr. Fairholt, in his ‘Facts about Finger-rings,’ has given illustrations and descriptions of two rings of this character in the Londesborough Collection. One is decorated with floral ornament, engraved and filled with green and red enamel colours. The effect on the gold is extremely pleasing, having a certain quaint sumptuousness peculiarly its own. The other specimen, a signet-ring, bears a ‘merchants’ mark’ (see notice of ‘Merchants’ marks’ at the end of this chapter) upon its face.

In the same collection is a ring, doubtless a gage d’amour, the hoop of which is richly decorated with quaint floriated ornaments, cut upon its surface, and filled in with the black composition termed niello, once extensively used by goldsmiths in enriching their works. This beautiful ring is inscribed within the hoop, ‘Mon Cor Plesor,’—‘my heart’s delight.’

There are two very beautiful examples of sixteenth century rings, one in the Londesborough Collection, which has a ruby in a very tall setting, enriched by enamel. The sides of the hoop are highly decorated with flowers and scroll ornament, also richly enamelled. The other ring is in the Waterton Collection, gold, enamelled, set with a large turquoise in the centre, and surrounded by six raised garnets. This ring is said to have subsequently belonged to Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, whose cipher is upon it.

Rings of Italian workmanship of a late period are remarkably beautiful. Venice particularly excelled in this art. In the Londesborough Collection is a fine specimen. The four claws of the other ring in open-work, support the setting of a sharply-pointed pyramidal diamond, such as was then coveted for writing on glass. The shank bears a fanciful resemblance to a serpent swallowing a bird, of which only the claws connecting the face remain on view.

‘It was,’ remarks Mr. Fairholt, ‘with a similar ring Raleigh wrote the words on a window-pane: “Fain would I rise, but that I fear to fall,” to which Queen Elizabeth added: “If thy heart fail thee, do not rise at all”—an implied encouragement which led him on to fortune.’[13]

The annexed engraving represents a gold symbolical ring of the sixteenth century, enamelled, of various colours.

Italian.

Two rings are described by Mr. Fairholt of a peculiar construction. One, of Venice work, is set with three stones in raised bezels; to their bases are affixed, by a swivel, gold pendant ornaments, each set with a garnet. As the hand moves, these pendants fall about the finger, the stones glittering in the movement. This fashion was evidently borrowed from the East, where people delight in pendant ornaments, and even affix them to articles of utility.

The other ring, of silver, is of East Indian workmanship, discovered in the ruins of one of the most ancient temples: to its centre are affixed bunches of pear-shaped, hollow drops of silver, which jingle with a soft, low note as the hand moves.[14]

The Indians prefer rings with large floriated faces spreading over three fingers like a shield. When made for the wealthy, in massive gold, the flower leaves are of cut jewels, but the humbler classes are content with them in cast silver. Representations are here given of these rings.

Indian.

In Southern Europe, where jewellery is deemed almost an essential of life and the poorest will wear it in profusion, though only made of copper, the rings are curious and elaborate. A Spanish ring, of the early part of the last century, has a heart, winged and crowned, in its centre: the heart is transfixed by an arrow, but surrounded by flowers. It may possibly be a religious emblem. Another Spanish ring, of more modern manufacture, has a very light and elegant design. The flowers are formed of rubies and diamonds, and the effect is extremely pleasing. Such work may have originated the ‘giardinetti’ rings, specimens of which are seen in the South Kensington Museum. Two are there described as English work of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. They appear to have been used as ‘guards,’ or ‘keepers,’ to the wedding-ring, and are of pleasing floriated design, and of very delicate execution.

Spanish.

‘Giardinetti’ rings.

Annexed are representations of some remarkably fine rings (French) dating from the close of the fourteenth century or the commencement of the fifteenth.

French.

A handsome ring, of silver gilt, representing St. George and the Dragon, belongs to the end of the fifteenth century. There is a border of roses and fleurs-de-lys around the saint.

The following examples of French art of the sixteenth century are in the Museum of the Louvre:—

French.

The annexed illustration represents an escutcheon ring (from Viollet le Duc) of the Middle Ages, and is thus described by M. Chabouillet in his ‘Catalogue Général.’ The Cabinet of Medals at Paris possesses a ring dating from the commencement of the fifteenth century, if one may judge from the form of the letters, and that of the helmet engraved on the seal. The ring is of massive gold; the arms, engraved hollow on the seal, represent a shield, charged with a dragon, carrying (perhaps) some prey in his jaws. On the two sides of the intaglio are two names—Marin, Pixian. On the sides of the ring are two inscriptions in relief, one only of which is legible, and this is taken from St. Luke—‘Jesus autem transiens per medium illorum ibat.’

‘Escutcheon’ ring. French.

The accompanying are from Chabouillet’s ‘Orfévrerie de la Rénaissance,’ in the Fould Collection (dispersed by auction in 1860).

French.

These engravings are from Labarte’s ‘Orfévrerie du XV. et XVI. Siècles’:—

The following represent rings in the Musée Sauvageot, of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; one is elaborately wrought of chiselled iron, of French manufacture—date, 16th century.

French.

The annexed are two fine specimens of comparatively modern date; one ending in volutes near the bezel, the other enamelled white, red, green, and blue—a turquoise, with diamonds and rubies in settings.

French.

Mr. Fairholt mentions two characteristic specimens of modern French ring-work; one a signet ring, the face engraved with a coat of arms. At the sides two Cupidons repose amidst scroll-work partaking of the taste of the Rénaissance. The same peculiarity influences the design of the second ring; here a central arch of five stones, in separate settings, are held by the heads and outstretched wings of Chimæras, whose breasts are also jewelled. Both are excellent designs.

Modern French.

Moorish.

In the Londesborough Collection is a triplicate of Moorish rings, which will enable us to understand their peculiarities. One has a large circular face composed of a cluster of small bosses, set with five circular turquoises and four rubies; the centre being a turquoise, with a ruby and turquoise alternating round it. This ring is of silver. Another, of the same material, is set with an octangular bloodstone, with a circular turquoise on each side. There is, also, a silver signet ring, bearing the name of its original owner, engraved on a cornelian.

Bavarian.

In the South Kensington Museum is a massive and heavy brass ring, with octagonal bezel armed with five projecting points, used as a weapon by peasants in Upper Bavaria from about the year 1700 to the present time.

The Indians prefer rings with large floriated faces, spreading over three fingers like a shield. When made for the wealthy in massive gold, the flower leaves are of cut jewels, but the humbler classes, who equally love display, are content with them in cast silver. Such a ring is in the British Museum, where there are also two specimens of rings beside it such as are worn by the humbler classes.

A curious gold ring, bearing the impress a ‘merchant’s mark,’ was exhibited by Mr. Sully at a meeting of the Archæological Institute of November 1851. It was found at St. Anne’s Well, near Nottingham, and the date is about the time of Henry VI. From a representation in the ‘Journal’ the impress appears to be composed of the orb of sovereignty, surmounted by a cross, having two transverse bars, like a patriarchal cross. The extremities of the lower limbs terminate with the Arabic numerals, 2—0, the cipher being transversed by a diagonal stroke, as frequently written in early times. On one side of the hoop is seen the Virgin and Child, on the other the Crucifix; these were originally enamelled. Within is inscribed—Mon Cur avez. Weight 7 dwts. 21 grs.

A brass signet-ring found in the Cathedral Close at Hereford, bears for impress a kind of merchant’s mark, a cross, with the lower extremity barbed like an arrow, between the initials G. M.—now in the possession of the Dean of Hereford.

In the Braybrooke Collection is a bronze signet-ring with a merchant’s mark within a cable border: the mark may be intended to represent a buoy, which would accord well with the border, supposing it to be a trader’s cipher; the hoop is likewise twisted to imitate the strands of a rope. This ring was found in the Thames.

In the same collection is a massive gold thumb-ring engraved as a signet, with a merchant’s mark within a rude shield. The shoulders of the hoop are chased with Marguerite flowers, which were commonly adopted in the reign of Henry VI., in honour of the queen-mother, and may indicate the date of the ring. It was found at Littlebury, Essex, in 1848. In the same collection is a large gold thumb-ring, with a round hoop and signet, on which is engraved the letter E of Longobardic form, within delicately-cusped tracery, surmounted by a coronet. The hoop is inscribed externally with the words in. on. is. al. (in one is all): probably intended for a charm, of which so many forms are found upon rings of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

In the Londesborough Collection is the fine specimen (to which I have alluded in a previous page) of a signet-ring bearing a ‘merchant’s mark.’

‘The marks,’ observes Mr. Fairholt, ‘varied with every owner, and was as peculiar to himself as the modern autograph; they were a combination of initials, or letter-like devices, frequently surmounted by a cross, or a conventional sign, believed to represent the sails of a ship. The marks were placed upon the bales of merchandise, and were constantly used where the coat armour, or badge of a nobleman or gentleman entitled to bear arms would be placed. The authority vested in such merchants’ rings is curiously illustrated in one of the historical plays on the life and reign of Queen Elizabeth, written by Thomas Heywood, and to which he gave the quaint title: “If you know not me, you know nobody.” Sir Thomas Gresham, the great London merchant, is one of the principal characters, and in a scene where he is absent from home, and in sudden need of cash, he exclaims: “Here, John, take this seal-ring, bid Timothy send me presently a hundred pound.” John takes the ring to the trusty Timothy, saying: “Here’s his seal-ring; I hope a sufficient warrant.” To which Timothy replies: “Upon so good security, John, I’ll fit me to deliver it.” Another merchant in the same play is made to obtain his wants by similar means:—

———receive thou my seal-ring:
Bear it to my factor; bid him by that token
Sort thee out forty pounds’ worth of such wares
As thou shalt think most beneficial.

The custom must have been common to be thus used in dramatic scenes of real life. These plays were produced in 1606.’[15]

‘Merchants’ marks, which appear to have been imitated from the Flemings during the reign of Edward the Third, and became very common during the fifteenth and early part of the sixteenth century, both on seals and signet-rings, offer a somewhat curious field for research, and are often very useful in identifying the persons by whom domestic and parts of ecclesiastical edifices on which they occur were built. They were more generally used in the great seaports of England than in the south—a fact which is readily accounted for by the frequent intercourse between those ports and Flanders. It may be observed also that such marks belonged chiefly to wool-factors, or merchants of the staple.’—Archæological Journal for March 1848.

Merchants’ rings.

In the collections of our English antiquaries are numerous specimens of thumb-rings, and in the chapter on ‘Ecclesiastical Usages in Connection with Rings’ I have mentioned several of particular interest, notably an effigy with a signet-ring of remarkable size represented as worn over both the thumbs. Dr. Bruce found some thumb-rings along the line of the Roman wall.

The custom of wearing thumb-rings is alluded to by Chaucer, in the ‘Squire’s Tale,’ where it is said of the rider of the brazen horse who advanced into the hall, Cambuscan, that ‘upon his thumb he had of gold a ring.’ Brome, in the ‘Antipodes,’ 1638, and also in the ‘Northern Lass:’ ‘A good man in the city wears nothing rich about him but the gout, or a thumb-ring.’

In the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. iii. page 268) is a representation of a curious thumb-ring, which supplies a good example of the signet thumb-ring of the fifteenth century. It is of silver, alloyed, or plated with baser metal and strongly gilt. The hoop is grooved spirally, and the initial H is engraved upon it; weight 17 dwts. 18 grs. It was found in 1846, in dredging in the bed of the river Severn, at a place called Saxon’s or Saxton’s Lode.

Signet rings of this kind were worn by rich citizens, or persons of substance not entitled to bear arms. Falstaff bragged that in his earlier years he had been so slender in figure that he could readily have crept through an ‘alderman’s thumb-ring,’ and a ring thus worn—probably, as more conspicuous—appears to have been considered as appropriate to the customary attire of a civic dignitary at a much later period. A character in the Lord Mayor’s show in 1664 is described as ‘habited like a grave citizen—gold girdle and gloves hung thereon, rings on his fingers, and a seal-ring on his thumb.’

In Labartes ‘Hand-book of the Fine Arts in the Middle Ages’ is a representation of a fine thumb-ring, of Hindoo workmanship, cut out of a single piece of jade, decorated with gold filagree, and incrusted with rubies.

A magical thumb-ring of gilt, bearing the figure of a toad, and of German workmanship of the fourteenth century is in the Londesborough Collection, and is described in the chapter on ‘Ring Superstitions.’ The annexed representation is from a ring in the same collection.

Thumb-ring.

The figure of a morse ivory thumb-ring of an Earl of Shrewsbury, belonging to Dr. Iliff, is given in the ‘Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries’ (December, 1859), in which it is fully described. On this is engraved various coats of arms, surrounded by the Garter, and ensigned with an earl’s coronet. A list of the quarterings is also given.[16]

In the Braybrooke Collection is a massive latten thumb-ring, with a signet engraved with I.H.S. and three tears below; the words, ‘in Deo Salus’ are inside the hoop. They are from the Penitential Psalms, and in union with the tears. Date from the thirteenth century.

In a portrait of Lady Anne Clifford, the celebrated Countess of Pembroke, she wears a ring upon the thumb of her right hand.

To the practice of English ladies wearing, formerly, the wedding-ring on the thumb I have alluded in the chapter on ‘Betrothal and Wedding-rings.’

Dr. Thomas Chalmers wore the ring of his great-great-great-grandfather, John Alexander, on his thumb.

‘Oriental rings,’ remarks the Rev. C. W. King, ‘exactly like the ancient in shape, and made of cornelian, chalcedony, and agate, with legends in Arabic on the face, for the use of signets, are by no means uncommon in collections. They are of large size, being designed to be worn on the thumb of the right hand, in order to be used in drawing the bow-string, which the Orientals pull with the bent thumb, catching it against the shank of the ring, and not with the two first fingers, as is the practice of English archers.’

Brass Thumb-ring.

A brass seal-ring large enough for a man’s thumb was found in Hampshire some years ago, and is noticed in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ vol. liv.

CHAPTER II.

RING SUPERSTITIONS.

A mysterious significance has been associated with rings from the earliest periods, among various nations. They were supposed to protect from evil fascinations of every kind, against the ‘evil eye,’ the influence of demons, and dangers of every possible character; though it was not simply in the rings themselves that the supposed virtues existed, but in the materials of which they were composed, in some particular precious stone that was set in them, as charms or talismans, in some device or inscription on the stone, or some magical letters engraven on the circumference of the ring.

The ring worn by the high-priest of the Jews was of inestimable value, chiefly, according to a tradition, of its celestial virtues; and the ring of Solomon, as Hebrew legends state, possessed powers which enabled him to baffle the most subtle of his enemies.[17] Some curious particulars respecting this ring will be found in Josephus (lib. viii. ch. 2), which, however, are considered as interpolations. According to this he witnessed the healing of demoniacs by one Eleazar, a Jew, in the presence of the Emperor Vespasian, by the application of a medicated ring to the nostrils of the patient. The Jew recited several verses connected with the name of Solomon, and the devils came forth through the noses of the patients. ‘It was to this great prince the honour of this discovery is attributed, as well as other magical operations, and without him it would be improbable to obtain success.’[18] The signet-ring of Solomon had the mystic word schemhamphorasch engraved upon it, and procured for him the wonderful shamir, which enabled him to build the temple. Every day at noon it transported him into the firmament, where he heard the secrets of the universe. This continued until he was persuaded by the devil to grant him his liberty, and to take the ring from his finger; the demon then assumed his shape as King of Israel, and reigned three years, while Solomon became a wanderer in foreign lands.

According to an Arabian tradition, King Solomon, on going to the bath, left his ring behind him, which was stolen by a Jewess, and thrown by her into the sea. Deprived of his miraculous amulet, which prevented him from exercising the judicial wisdom for which he was celebrated, Solomon abstained for forty days from administering justice, when he at length found the ring in the stomach of a fish that was served at his table. Many curious fictions on this subject are related by Arabian writers in a book called ‘Salcuthat,’ devoted to the subject of magical rings, and they trace this particular ring of Solomon in a regular succession from Jared, the father of Enoch, to the ‘wisest of men.’[19]

Old legends state that Joseph and the Virgin Mary used at their espousals a ring of onyx or amethyst. The discovery is dated from the year 996, when the ring was given by a jeweller from Jerusalem to a lapidary of Clusium, who indicated its origin. The miraculous powers of the ring having been found out by accident, it was placed in a church, when its efficacy in curing disorders of every kind was remarkable—trifling, however, in comparison with its singular power of multiplying itself. Similar rings were claimed as the genuine relic by many churches in Europe at the same time, and received the same devout homage.

This superstition of the ‘Virgin’s Ring’ still prevails in Catholic countries. Thus, the correspondent of the ‘Standard’ newspaper, in an article contributed to that journal on ‘Art in Perugia’ (Sept. 4, 1875), writes:—‘We went into the Duomo, or cathedral of Perugia. It is not among the churches most worth visiting. Several other churches contain far more, and more interesting works of art in various kinds. The “Nuptial Ring of the Virgin Mary,” which is the treasure on which the Chapter of Perugia most prides itself, is not to be seen. A sacristan whom I innocently asked to show it to me, looked at me and spoke to me as much as if I had requested him to show me round the wondrous scene described by the Seer of the Apocalypse. He told me, indeed, when his first astonishment at my ignorant audacity had somewhat calmed down, that the ring could be seen if I would “call again” on St. Joseph’s day next, on which solemnity it is every year exhibited from a high balcony in the church to the kneeling crowds of the faithful from all the country-side. Meanwhile it was locked away behind innumerable bars and doors, the many keys of which are in the keeping of I do not know how many high ecclesiastical authorities.

‘The ring itself, a plain gold circlet—large enough, apparently, for any man’s thumb, and about six times as thick as any ordinary marriage-ring (I have seen an accurate engraving of it)—is, of course, in no wise worth seeing. But the casket in which it is kept—a very remarkable specimen of mediæval goldsmiths’ work—is, by all accounts, very much so. However, it is not to be seen, not even on St. Joseph’s day, to any good purpose.’

I may add that the celebrated painting of the Marriage of the Virgin, by Perugino, was formerly in this chapel of the cathedral, called ‘Del Santo Anelo,’ or the Holy Ring, but was removed, with many other spoils, after the treaty of Tolentino, and is now in the Museum of Caen, in Normandy.

In the old Mystery of the ‘Miraculous Espousal of Mary and Joseph,’ Issachar, the ‘Busshopp,’ says:—

‘Mary; wole ye have this man
And hym to kepyn, as yo lyff?’
Maria.—‘In the tenderest wyse, fadyr, as I kan,
And with all my wyttys ffyll.’
Ep’us.—‘Joseph; with this rynge now wedde thi wyff,
And be her hand, now, thou her take.’
Joseph.—‘Ser, with this rynge, I wedde her ryff,
And take her’ now her’ for my make.’[20]

The planet Jupiter was considered by the Hebrews propitious for weddings, and the newly-married gave rings on those occasions, on which the words Mazal Tob were inscribed, signifying that good fortune would happen under that star.

A remarkable gold talismanic ring, supposed, on satisfactory grounds, by Colonel Tod (author of ‘Annals and Antiquities of Rajast’han’) to be of Hindu workmanship, was found some years since on the Fort Hill, near Montrose, on the site of an engagement in the reign of the unfortunate Queen Mary. This ring had an astrological and mythological import. It represented the symbol of the sun-god Bal-nat’h, around which is wreathed a serpent guardant, with two bulls as supporters, or the powers of creative nature in unison, typified in the miniature Lingam and Noni—in short, a graven image of that primæval worship which prevailed among the nations of antiquity. This is ‘the pillar and the calf worshipped on the fifteenth of the month’ (the sacred Amavus of the Hindus) by the Israelites, when they adopted the rites of the Syro-Phœnician adorers of Bal, the sun. Colonel Tod considered that this curious relic belonged to some superstitious devotee, who wore it as a talisman on his thumb.

According to Zoroaster, Ormuzd represented the Good Principle, and Ahrimanes the Evil. The former is seen on ancient sculptures, holding, as an emblem of power, a ring in one hand.

All the Hindu Mogul divinities are represented with rings. The statues of the gods at Elephanta have, amongst other ornaments, finger-rings.

From Asia, legends connected with rings were introduced into Greece, and numberless miraculous powers were ascribed to them. The classical derivation of the ring was attributed to Prometheus, who, having incurred the displeasure of Jupiter, was compelled to wear on his finger an iron ring, to which was attached a fragment of the rock of the Caucasus.

To adorn the finger-ring with inlaid stone
Was first to men by wise Prometheus shown,
Who from Caucasian rock a fragment tore,
And, set in iron, on his finger wore.

The ring of Gyges, King of Lydia, rendered the wearer invisible when the stone turned inwards[21] (so also the ring of Eluned, the Lunet of the old English romance of Ywaine and Gawaine, and in several German stories). The ring of Polycrates the tyrant, which was flung into the sea to propitiate Nemesis, was found, like that of Solomon, inside a fish served at his table. The story is thus related by Herodotus. Amasis, King of Egypt, after Polycrates had obtained possession of the island of Samos, sent the tyrant a friendly letter, expressing a fear of the continuance of his singular prosperity, for he had never known such an instance of felicity which did not come to calamity in the long run; advising, therefore, Polycrates to throw away some favourite gem in such a way that he might never see it again, as a kind of charm against misfortune. Polycrates took the advice, and, sailing away from the shore in a boat, threw a valuable signet-ring—an emerald set in gold—into the sea, in sight of all on board. This done he returned home and gave vent to his sorrow. It happened five or six days afterwards that a fisherman caught a fish so large and beautiful that he thought it well deserved to be presented to the King. So he took it with him to the gate of the palace, and said that he wanted to see Polycrates. On being admitted the fisherman gave him the fish with these words: ‘Sir King, when I took this prize I thought I would not carry it to market, though I am a poor man who lives by his trade. I said to myself, it is worthy of Polycrates and his greatness, and so I brought it here to give to you.’ The speech pleased the King, who replied: ‘Thou didst well, friend, and I am doubly indebted both for the gift and the speech. Come now and sup with me.’ So the fisherman went home, esteeming it a high honour that he had been asked to sup with the King. Meanwhile the servants, in cutting open the fish, found the signet of their master in the stomach. No sooner did they see it than they seized upon it, and, hastening to Polycrates with great joy, restored it to him, and told him in what way it had been found. The King, who saw something providential in the matter, forthwith wrote a letter to Amasis telling him all that had happened. Amasis perceived that it does not belong to man to save his fellow-man from the fate which is in store for him. Likewise, he felt certain that Polycrates would end ill, as he prospered in everything, even finding what he had thrown away. So he sent a herald to Samos, and dissolved the contract of friendship. This he did that when the great and heavy misfortune came he might escape the grief which he would have felt if the sufferer had been his loved friend. Polycrates died in the third year of the 64th Olympiad. This seal-ring was taken later to Rome, where Pliny relates that he saw and handled it. The Emperor Augustus had it inserted in a horn of gold, and placed it in the temple of Concord, in the midst of other golden objects of great value. The seal is represented to have been as large as a crown piece, in shape a little oblong. The subject was a lyre, around which were three bees in the upper part; at the foot was a dolphin on the right, and the head of a bull on the left—the lyre, the emblem of poetry; the bees, industry; the bull, production; and the dolphin, a friend to man.

Some years ago, it was reported that this remarkable seal-ring was found by an inhabitant of Albano in a vineyard, but this story has never been confirmed.

Apart from the superstitious inferences deduced from the singular recovery of the ring, the fact itself may be probably accepted. The Rev. C. W. King, in ‘Precious Stones, Gems, and Precious Metals,’ observes: ‘There can be little doubt that this tale of the “Fish and the Ring” is true. Fish, especially the mackerel, greedily swallow any glittering object dropped into the sea; and within my own recollection, one when opened was found to contain a wedding-ring.’[22]

Legends of the fish and the ring are found in most countries: the ancient Indian drama of Sacontala has an incident of this character. In the armorial bearings of the see of Glasgow, and now of the city, the stem of St. Kentigern’s tree is crossed by a salmon bearing in its mouth a ring. The legend attached to this is related in ‘Jocelin’s Life of St. Kentigern.’ In the days of this saint, a lady having lost her wedding-ring, it stirred up her husband’s jealousy, to allay which she applied to Kentigern, imploring his help for the safety of her honour. Not long after, as the holy man walked by the river, he desired a person who was fishing to bring him the first fish he could catch, which was accordingly done, and from its mouth was taken the lady’s ring, which he immediately sent to her, to remove her husband’s suspicions. So runs the legend; but a more truthful explanation of the arms of St. Mungo attributes the ring to the episcopal office, and the fish to the scaly treasures of the river at the foot of the metropolitan cathedral.[23]

An Italian legend ascribes as an omen of the downfall of the Venetian republic that the ring cast into the Adriatic by the Doge, in token of his marriage to the sea, was found in a fish that was served up at his table a year after the custom had been observed.

A popular ballad of old, called the ‘Cruel Knight, or the Fortunate Farmer’s Daughter,’ represents a knight passing a cot, and hearing that the woman within is in childbirth. His knowledge in the occult sciences informs him that the child to be born is destined to become his wife. He endeavours to evade the decrees of fate, and, to avoid so ignoble an alliance, by various attempts to destroy the child, but which are defeated. At length, when grown to woman’s estate, he takes her to the sea-side, intending to drown her but relents; at the same time, throwing a ring into the sea, he commands her never to see his face again, on pain of death, unless she can produce the ring. She afterwards becomes a cook in a gentleman’s family, and finds the ring in a cod-fish as she is dressing it for dinner. The marriage takes place, of course.

The monument to Lady Berry in Stepney Church bears:—paly of six on a bend, three mullets (Elton) impaling a fish, and in the dexter chief point an annulet between two bends wavy. This coat of arms, which exactly corresponds with that borne by Ventris, of Cambridgeshire, has given rise to the tradition that Lady Berry was the heroine of the above story. The ballad lays the scene of the events in Yorkshire, but incidents of the ring and the fish are, as I observed, numerous.[24]

The various arts employed by the ancients in ‘divination’ were many. The annexed illustrations, representing divination rings, are taken from Liceti, ‘Antiqua Schemata’ (Gemmarium Annularium); the two figures on one ring are trying eagerly to discover future events in a crystal globe. Crystallomancy included every variety of divination by means of transparent bodies. These, polished and enchanted, signified their meaning by certain marks and figures.

The serpent held by the female figure refers to ophiomancy, the art which the ancients pretended to, of making predictions by serpents. According to the ophites, who emanated from the Gnostics, the serpent was instructed in all knowledge, and was the father and author of all the sciences.

Divination ring.

The hieroglyphic ring represents a sphinx, the monster described by the poets as having a human face with the body of a bird or quadruped, the paws of a lion, the tail of a dragon, &c. It was said to propose riddles to those it met with, and destroyed those who could not answer them. Upon this they consulted the oracle, to know what should be done. It answered that they could not be delivered until they could solve this riddle: ‘What creature is that which has four feet in the morning, two at noon, and three towards night.’ Œdipus answered that it was a man, who, in his infancy, crawled on all fours, until he was sufficiently strong to walk; then went on two legs, until old age obliged him to use a staff to help and support him. On this the monster is said to have dashed out its brains against a rock.

Divination ring.

The star over the head of the sphinx in the engraving represents the divination by stars practised by the Cabalists. The stars vertical over a city or nation were so united by lines as to form resemblances of the Hebrew letters, and thus words which were deemed prophetic. Burder remarks that the rise of a new star, or the appearance of a comet, was thought to portend the birth of a great person; also that the gods sent stars to point out the way to their favourites, as Virgil shows, and as Suetonius and Pliny actually relate in the case of Julius Cæsar.

The cup or vase represented in the engraving near the sphinx refers to the divination by the cup, one of the most ancient methods of discovering future events by crystalline reflection. The divining cup of Joseph shows that its use was familiar in Egypt at that remote period.[25]

Charmed rings found easy believers among the Greeks and the Romans, and were special articles of traffic. Such objects, made of wood, bone, or some other cheap materials, were manufactured in large numbers at Athens, and could be purchased, gifted with any charm required, for the small consideration of a single drachma.

In the ‘Plutus’ of Aristophanes, to a threat on the part of the sycophant, the just man replies ‘that he is proof against evil influences, having a charmed ring.’ Carion, the servant, observes ‘that the ring would not prevail against the bite of a sycophant.’ The ring was probably a medicated one, to preserve from demons and serpents.

The following engraving from Gorlæus represents a human head with an elephant’s trunk, &c., holding a trident, an amulet against the perils of the sea:—

Amulet ring: Roman.

The council of ravens, prophetic birds (and attributes of Apollo), or crows, which were used as symbols of conjugal fidelity:—

Amulet ring: Roman.

A silver ring on a sardonyx, engraved with the figure of a sow, as a propitiatory sacrifice:—

Amulet ring: Roman.

In Lucian’s ‘Philopseudes,’ in a dialogue called the Ship or Wish, a man is introduced who desires that Mercury should bestow a ring on him to confer perpetual health and preservation from danger.

Benvenuto Cellini, in his ‘Memoirs,’ mentions the discovery in Rome of certain vases, ‘which appeared to be antique urns filled with ashes; amongst these were iron rings inlaid with gold, in each of which was set a diminutive shell. Learned antiquarians, upon investigating the nature of these rings, declared their opinion that they were worn as charms by those who desired to behave with steadiness and resolution either in prosperous or adverse fortune. I likewise took things of this nature in hand at the request of some gentlemen who were my particular friends, and wrought some of these little rings, but I made them of steel, well-tempered, and then cut and inlaid with gold, so that they were very beautiful to behold; sometimes for a single ring of this sort I was paid above forty crowns.’

In Rome there were altars to the Samothracian deities, who were supposed to preside over talismans. The people of that island were extensive manufacturers of iron rings, to which they attached supernatural qualities.

On ancient Mexican rings and seals set with precious stones are constellation representations, as, for example, Pisces. Those people awaited their Messiah, or Crusher of the Serpent, during the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn, in the same zodiacal sign of Pisces, the protecting sign of Syria and Palestine.

Pliny informs us that the ancients set additional value on articles made of jet, such as rings, buttons, &c., from a notion that it possessed the virtue of driving away serpents—a belief which existed also in the days of the Venerable Bede, who, describing the various mineral productions of Britain, says: ‘It has much excellent jet, which is black and sparkling, glittering at the fire, and, when heated, drives away serpents.’ Some examples of jet rings have been found at Uriconium.

A portrait of Alexander the Great, set in a gold or silver ring, and carried about on the finger, was supposed by the Greeks to ensure prosperity to the wearer; as a reverse, one of the omens announcing the fall of Nero was the presentation to him of a ring engraved with the Rape of Proserpine, being a symbol of death.[26]

Spartian includes among the omens of Hadrian’s coming death the falling off from his finger of his ring, ‘which bore a likeness to himself,’ as he was taking the auspices on a New Year’s day, and so obtaining a foreshadowing of the events of the coming year.

A portrait of Hadrian, engraved with Mercury in a magic ring (Gorlæus):—

Amulet ring: bust of Hadrian.

Heliodorus describes a precious stone as set in the King of Ethiopia’s ring, one of the royal jewels, the shank being formed of electrum and the bezel flaming with an Ethiopian amethyst, engraved with a youthful shepherd and his flock—an antidote to the wearer against intoxication.

Philostratus relates how Chariclea escaped unharmed from the funeral pyre on which she was condemned to be burnt by the jealous Arsace, from having secreted about her the espousal-ring of King Hydaspes, ‘which was set with the stone called Pandarbes, engraved with certain sacred letters’ and antagonistic to fire.

In the British Museum is a remarkable collection of ornaments of the Roman period connected with the worship of the Deæ Matres, discovered in the county of Durham, or in some adjoining district in the beginning of this century. Among these are several rings which have been elaborately described by Mr. Edward Hawkins in the ‘Archæological Journal’ for March 1851 (vol. viii.), with illustrations.

In the Waterton Collection are some specimens of Gnostic Roman rings, of the third century: one, of silver, is set with an intaglio on bloodstone of an Abraxas figure, with head of a jackal. The others have Gnostic emblems and inscriptions.

Astrological rings in connexion with mythological representations were worn by the ancients.

The accompanying engraving from Gorlæus represents the sun and stars. According to the Gnostic theories, the properties of the sun on the destinies of men were numerous and important. The mystical virtues of the most precious stones were under the solar influence.

Astrological ring.

Planetary rings were formed of the gems assigned to the several planets, each set in its appropriate metal: thus, the Sun, diamond or sapphire in a ring of gold; the Moon, crystal in silver; Mercury, magnet, in quicksilver; Venus, amethyst in copper; Mars, emerald in iron; Jupiter, cornelian in tin; Saturn, turquoise in lead.

From the remotest antiquity every planet in the heavens was believed to possess a virtue peculiar to itself. Each presided over some kingdom, nation, or city; then, extending its influence to individuals, it decided their personal appearance, temperament, disposition, character, health, and fortune, and even influenced the several members and parts of the body. After this, it ruled plants, herbs, animals, stones, and all the various productions of nature. Southey, in the ‘Doctor’ (vol. iii. p. 112), commenting on the exhibition of the Zodiacal signs in the ‘Margarita Philosophica,’ a work of the sixteenth century, observes: ‘There Homo stands naked, but not ashamed, upon the two Pisces, one foot upon each; the fish being neither in air nor water, nor upon earth, but self-suspended, as it appears, in the void. Aries has alighted with two feet on Homo’s head, and has sent a shaft through the forehead into his brain. Taurus has quietly seated himself across his neck. The Gemini are riding astride a little below his right shoulder. The whole trunk is laid open, as if part of the old accursed punishment for high treason had been performed on him. The Lion occupies the thorax as his proper domain, and the Crab is in possession of his domain. Sagittarius, volant in the void, has just let fly an arrow which is on its way to his right arm. Capricornus breathes out a visible influence that penetrates both knees. Aquarius inflicts similar punctures upon both legs. Virgo fishes, as it were, at his intestines, Libra at the part affected by schoolmasters in their anger, and Scorpio takes the wickedest aim of all.’

The old astrological definition of the Zodiac seems to be this—that it was the division of the great circle of the heavens into twelve parts. These twelve parts are divided into those called northern and commanding (the first six), and those called southern and obeying (the remaining six). The other constellations of the two hemispheres are not unconsidered in astrology, but those of the zodiac are more important, because they form the pathway of the sun, the moon, and the planets, and are supposed to receive from these bodies, as they roll through their spaces, extraordinary energy.[27]

The following illustration from Liceti, ‘Antiqua Schemata Gemmarum Annularium,’ represents Jupiter, Mercury, Pallas, and Neptune surrounded by the signs of the Zodiac:—

Zodiacal ring.

Among the various modes of enquiring by magical means as to who should succeed to the Roman emperorship during the reigns of Valentinian and Valens, we are told that the letters of the alphabet were artificially disposed in a circle, and a magic ring, being suspended over the centre, was believed to point to the initial letters of the name of him who should be the future emperor. Theodorus, a man of most eminent qualifications and high popularity, was put to death by the jealousy of Valens on the vague evidence that this kind of trial had indicated the first letters of his name. Gibbon remarks on this point that the name of Theodosius, who actually succeeded, begins with the same letters which were indicated in this magic trial.

This ring mystery, the Dactylomancia (from two Greek words signifying ring and divination), was a favourite operation of the ancients. It was preceded by certain ceremonies, and the ring was subjected to a form of conjuration. The person who held it was arrayed in linen, a circlet of hair was left by an artistic barber on his head, and in his hand he held a branch of vervain. An invocation to the gods preceded the ceremony.

The ‘suspended ring,’ another mode of divination practised at a later period, is thus described by Peucer among various modes of hydromancy: ‘A bowl was filled with water, and a ring suspended from the finger was librated in the water, and so, according as the question was propounded, a declaration, or confirmation of its truth, or otherwise, was obtained. If what was proposed was true, the ring, of its own accord, without any impulse, struck the sides of the goblet a certain number of times. They say that Numa Pompilius used to practise this method, and that he evoked the gods, and consulted them in water this way.’

The ring suspended over a monarch was supposed to indicate certain persons among those sitting round the table, and if a hair was used, taken from one of the company, it would swing towards that individual only. An ancient method of divining by the ring is similar in principle to the modern table-rapping. The edge of a round table was marked with the characters of the alphabet, and the ring stopped over certain letters, which, being joined together, composed the answer.

In another method of practising Dactylomancy, rings were put on the finger-nails when the sun entered Leo, and the moon Gemini, or the sun and Mercury were in Gemini and the moon in Cancer; or the sun in Sagittarius, the moon in Scorpio, and Mercury in Leo. These rings were made of gold, silver, copper, iron, or lead, and magical characters were attached to them, but how they operated we are not informed.

Another mode of water divination with the ring was to throw three pebbles into standing water, and draw observations from the circles which they formed.

Divination by sounds emitted by striking two rings was practised by Execetus, tyrant of the Phocians.

In the enchanted rings of the Greeks the position of the celestial bodies was most important. Pliny states that all the Orientals preferred the emerald jasper, and considered it an infallible panacea for every ill. Its power was strengthened when combined with silver instead of gold. Galen recommends a ring with jasper set in it, and engraved with the figure of a man wearing a bunch of herbs round his neck.[28] Many of the Gnostic or Basilidian gems, evidently used for magical purposes, were of jasper. Apollonius of Tyana, in Cappadocia, who flourished in the first age of the Christian era, and who fixed his residence in the temple of Æsculapius, considered the use of charmed rings so essential to quackery that he wore a different ring on each day of the week, marked with the planet of the day. He had received a present of the seven rings from Iarchas, the Indian philosopher.[29]

It was a belief among the Poles that each month of the year was under the influence of a precious stone. Thus January was represented by the garnet, emblem of constancy and fidelity; February, the amethyst, sincerity; March, bloodstone, courage and presence of mind; April, diamond, innocence; May, emerald, success in love; June, agate, health and long life; July, cornelian, contented mind; August, sardonyx, conjugal felicity: September, chrysote, antidote against madness; October, opal, hope; November, topaz, fidelity; December, turquoise, prosperity. These several stones were set in rings and other trinkets, as presents, &c.

In the early and middle ages it was not only generally believed that rings could be charmed by the power of a magician, but that the engraved stones on ancient rings which were found on old sites possessed supernatural properties, the benefits of which would be imparted to the wearer.

The great potentate Charlemagne, we are told by old French writers, was, in his youth, desperately in love with a young and beautiful woman, and gave himself up to pleasure in her society, neglecting the affairs of State. She died, and Charles was inconsolable at her loss. The Archbishop of Cologne endeavoured to withdraw him from her dead body, and at length, approaching the corpse, took from its mouth a ring in which was set a precious stone of remarkable beauty. It was the talisman which had charmed the monarch, whose passionate grief became now immediately subdued. The body was buried, and the Archbishop, fearing lest Charles might experience a similar magical effect in another seducer, threw it into a lake near Aix-la-Chapelle. The virtue of this marvellous ring was not, however, lost by this incident, for the legend relates that the monarch became so enamoured of the lake that his chief delight was in walking by its margin, and he became so much attached to the spot that he had a palace erected there, and made it the seat of his empire.

In the Persian Tales a king strikes off the hand of a sorceress (who had assumed the appearance of his queen), which had a ring upon it, when she immediately appears as a frightful hag.

The charmed ring of Aladdin plays a wonderful part in the ‘Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.’

One of the earliest ring superstitions in our own country, is that connected with the life of Edward the Confessor. In the mortuary chapel of this saintly monarch in Westminster Abbey are fourteen subjects in relievi, represented on the frieze of the screen on the western side, of incidents in the King’s life, in which the legend of the ‘Pilgrim’ (derived from a chronicle written by Ælred—a monk, and, later, abbot of Rievaulx, who died in 1166—but taken almost entirely from the life of St. Edward, by Osbert or Osbern, of Clare, prior of Westminster). is curiously displayed. The whole length of this sculpture is thirty-eight feet six inches by three feet in height. The relief is very bold, the irregular concave ground being much hollowed out behind. The compartment relating to the ring represents St. John, in the garb of a pilgrim, asking alms of the King. The figures are much injured. The monarch occupies the centre of the compartment, and a pilgrim or beggar is before him on the spectator’s right hand. Behind the King is a figure holding a pastoral staff—probably an ecclesiastic—and in front of whom, between the King and himself,—is an object not easily defined, but which appears like a basket. This design is interesting, from the back-ground being entirely filled in by a large and handsome church. This refers to the subject mentioned by Ælred, of the King being engaged in the construction of a church in honour of St. John, when the pilgrim appeared and asked alms.

According to the legend, King Edward was on his way to Westminster, when he was met by a beggar, who implored him in the name of St. John—the apostle peculiarly venerated by the monarch—to grant him assistance. The charitable King had exhausted his ready-money in alms-giving, but drew from his finger a ring, ‘large, beautiful, and royal,’ which he gave to the beggar, who thereupon disappeared. Shortly afterwards, two English pilgrims in the Holy Land found themselves benighted, and in great distress, when suddenly the path before them was lighted up, and an old man, white and hoary, preceded by two tapers, accosted them. Upon telling him to what country they belonged, the old man, ‘joyously like to a clerk,’ guided them to a hostelry, and announced that he was John the Evangelist, the special patron of King Edward, and gave them a ring to carry back to the monarch, with the warning that in six months’ time the King would be with him in Paradise. The pilgrims returned and found the King at his palace, called from this incident ‘Havering atte Bower.’ He recognised the ring, and prepared for his end accordingly. On the death of the Confessor, according to custom, he was attired in his royal robes, the crown on his head, a crucifix and gold chain round his neck, and the ‘Pilgrim’s Ring’ on his finger. The body was laid before the high altar at Westminster Abbey (A.D. 1066). On the translation of the remains of Henry the Second, the ring of St. John is said to have been withdrawn, and deposited as a relic among the crown jewels.[30] During the reign of Henry III. some repairs were made at the tower, and orders were given for drawing in the chapel of St. John two figures of St. Edward holding out a ring and delivering it to St. John the Evangelist.

As a proof, also, how this beautiful legend was engrafted on the popular mind in after ages, we find it stated in the account of the coronation of Edward II. (1307), that the King offered, first a pound of gold, made like a king holding a ring in his hand, and afterwards a mark, or eight ounces of gold, formed into the likeness of a pilgrim putting forth his hand to receive the ring, a conceit suggested by the legend of the Confessor. So great was the sanctity in which this monarch (who was influenced by childish and superstitious fancies) was held, that Richard II., whenever he left the kingdom, confided the ring which he usually wore to the custodian of St. Edward’s shrine.

‘It appears,’ observes Mr. Edmund Waterton (‘Archæological Journal,’ No. 82, 1864), ‘that St. Edward’s ring was deposited with his corpse in his tomb. His translation took place on the third of the ides of October (October 13), A.D. 1163, ninety-seven years after the burial. This ceremony was performed at midnight, and on opening his coffin the body was found to be incorrupt. On this occasion the Abbot Lawrence took from the body of the sainted king his robes and the ring of St. John; of the robes the abbot made three copes, as appears from the following entry in the catalogue of the relics of the saint. The abbot also gave the ring to the abbey: “Dompnus Laurentius quondam abbas hujus loci ... sed et annulo ejusdem (Sancti Edwardi) quem Sancto Johanni quondam tradidit, quem et ipse de paradiso remisit, elapsis annis duobus et dimidio, postea in nocte translationis de digito regis tulit, et pro miraculo in loco isto custodiri jussit.” The same manuscript (“De Fundacione ecclesie Westm.” by Ric. Sporley, a monk of the abbey, A.D. 1450), contains the indulgences to be gained by those who visited the holy relics:—“Ad annulum Sancti Edwardi vj. ann. iijc. xi. dies.” No further mention has been found of St. Edward’s ring.’[31]

Another legendary story, in connection with saintly interposition, is related in the annals of Venice. Moreover, it forms the subject of a painting, attributed (though with some doubt) to Giorgione, ‘St. Mark staying, miraculously, the tempest,’ in the Accademia Picture Gallery at Venice.

‘In the year 1341, an inundation of many days’ continuance had raised the water three cubits higher than it had ever before been seen at Venice; and during a stormy night, while the flood appeared to be still increasing, a poor fisherman sought what refuge he could find by mooring his crazy bark close to the Riva di San Marco. The storm was yet raging, when a person approached and offered him a good fare if he would but ferry him over to San Giorgio Maggiore. ‘Who,’ said the fisherman, ‘can reach San Giorgio on such a night as this? Heaven forbid that I should try!’ But as the stranger earnestly persisted in his request, and promised to guard him from all harm, he at last consented. The passenger landed, and having desired the boatman to wait a little, returned with a companion, and ordered him to row to San Nicolo di Lido. The astonished fisherman again refused, till he was prevailed upon by a further assurance of safety and excellent pay. At San Nicolo they picked up a third person, and then instructed the boatman to proceed to the Two Castles at Lido. Though the waves ran fearfully high, the old man had by this time become accustomed to them, and moreover, there was something about his mysterious crew which either silenced his fears, or diverted them from the tempest to his companions. Scarcely had they gained the Strait, than they saw a galley, rather flying than sailing along the Adriatic, manned (if we may so say) with devils, who seemed hurrying with fierce and threatening gestures, to sink Venice in the deep. The sea, which had been furiously agitated, in a moment became unruffled, and the strangers, crossing themselves, conjured the fiends to depart. At the word the demoniacal galley vanished, and the three passengers were quietly landed at the spots where each, respectively, had been taken up.

The boatman, it seems, was not quite easy about his fare, and before parting, he implied, pretty clearly, that the sight of the miracle would, after all, be bad pay. ‘You are right, my friend,’ said the first passenger; ‘go to the Doge and the Procuratori, and assure them that, but for us three, Venice would have been drowned. I am St. Mark; my two comrades are St George and St. Nicholas. Desire the magistrate to pay you; and add that all the trouble has arisen from a schoolmaster at San Felice, who first bargained with the devil for his soul, and then hanged himself in despair.’

The fisherman, who seemed to have, all his wits about him, answered that he might tell that story, but he much doubted whether he should be believed; upon which St. Mark pulled from his finger a gold ring, worth about five ducats, saying:—‘Show them this ring, and bid them look for it in my Treasury, whence it will be found missing.’ On the morrow the fisherman did as he was told. The ring was discovered to be absent from its usual custody, and the fortunate boatman not only received his fare, but an annual pension to boot. Moreover, a solemn procession and thanksgiving were appointed in gratitude to the three holy corpses which had rescued from such calamity the land affording them burial.’

Pope Hildebrand, one of the prime movers of the Norman invasion of England, excommunicated Harold and his supporters, and despatched a sacred banner, as well as a diamond ring enclosing one of the Apostle Peter’s hairs, to Normandy.

The mediæval romances abound in allusions to the wonderful virtues of rings. These were cherished conceits among the old writers. In the fabulous history of Ogier le Danois the fairy Morgana gives that hero a ring, which, although at that time he was one hundred years old, gives him the appearance of a man of thirty. After a lapse of two hundred years Ogier appears at the court of France, where the secret of his transformation is found out by the old Countess of Senlis, who, while making love to him, draws the talisman from his finger, and places it on her own. She instantly blossoms into youth, while Ogier as suddenly sinks into decrepitude. The Countess, however, is forced to give back the ring, and former appearances are restored, but as she had discovered the virtues of the ring, she employs thirty champions to regain it, all of whom are successfully defeated by Ogier.

In the ‘Vision of Pierce Plowman’ (about 1350) the poet speaks of a woman whose fingers were all embellished with rings of gold, set with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires, and also Oriental stones or amulets to prevent any poisonous infection.

In the romance of ‘Sir Perceval of Galles’ the knight obtains surreptitious possession of a ring endowed with mysterious qualities:—

Suche a vertue es in the stane
In alle thys werlde wote I nane,
Siche stone in a rynge;
A mane that had it in were,
One his body for to bere,
There scholde no dyntys hym dere,
Ne to the dethe brynge.

So in ‘Sir Eglamour of Artois’:—

Seyde Organata that swete thynge
Y schalle geve the a gode golde rynge
With a fulle ryche stone,
Whedur that ye be on water or on londe,
And that rynge be upon yowre honde,
Ther schall nothyng yow slon.

The ring, a gift to Canace, daughter of King Cambuscan, in the ‘Squire’s Tale’ of Chaucer, taught the language of birds, and also imparted to the wearer a knowledge of plants, which formed an important part of the Arabian philosophy:—

The vertue of this ring, if ye wol here,
Is this, that if hire list it for to were,
Upon hire thomb, or in hire purse it bere,
There is no fowle that fleeth under haven,
That she ne shal wel onderstond his steven (language)
And know his mening openlie and plaine,
And answere him in his langage againe,[32]
And every gras that groweth upon rote,
She shal eke know and whom it wol do bote,
All be his woundes never so depe and wide.

In the romance of Ywain and Gawaine (supposed to have been written in the reign of Henry VI.), when the knight is in perilous confinement, a lady looks out of a wicket which opened in the walls of the gateway, and releases him. She gives him a ring:—

I sal leue the her mi ring,
Bot yelde it me at myne askyng,
When thou ert broght of al thi payn,
Yelde it than to me ogayne:
Als the bark kills the tre,
Right so sal my ring do the;
When thou in hand hast the stane,
Der (harm) sal thai do the nane;
For the stane es of swilk might,
Of the sal men have na syght—

thus possessing the power ascribed to the ring of Gyges. In a story of the ‘Gseta Romanorum’ a father, on his death-bed, gives a ring to his son, the virtue of which was that whoever wore it would obtain the love of all men.

In chapter x. of the same work the Emperor Vespasian marries a wife in a distant country, who refuses to return home with him, and yet declares that she will kill herself if he leaves her. In this dilemma the emperor orders two rings to be made having wonderful efficacious properties; one represents on a precious stone the figure of Oblivion, and the other bears the image of Memory. The former he gives to the empress, the latter he keeps himself. Chapter cxx. contains the story of the legacy of King Darius to his three sons. The eldest receives his inheritance, the second all that had been acquired by conquest, and the third a ring, a necklace, and a rich mantle, all of which possess magical properties. He who wore the ring gained the love and favour of all; the collar obtained all that the heart could desire, and whoever laid down on the mantle would be instantly transported to any part of the world he might desire to visit.

In the romance of ‘Melusine,’ the heroine, when about to leave the house of her husband, gives him two rings, and says: ‘My sweet love, you see here two rings which have both the same virtue, and know well for truth, so long as you possess them, or one of them, you shall never be overcome in pleading, nor in battle, if your cause be rightful, and neither you nor others who may possess them shall ever die by any weapons.’

The ring given by the Princess Rigmel to Horn possessed similar properties, as also the ring in the ‘Little Rose-garden,’ given by the Lady Similt to her brother Dietlieb.

In Orlando’s ‘Inamorata’ the palace and gardens of Dragontina vanish at Angelica’s ring of virtue, which also enables her to become invisible.

Now that she this upon her hand surveys,
She is so full of pleasure and surprise,
She doubts it is a dream, and, in amaze,
Hardly believes her very hand and eyes.
Then softly to her mouth the hoop conveys,
And, quicker than the flash which cleaves the skies,
From bold Rogero’s sight her beauty shrouds,
As disappears the sun concealed in clouds.

Lydgate, in his ‘Troy book’ (1513), relates how Medea gives to Iason, when he is going to combat the brazen bulls, and to lull to sleep the dragon that guarded the golden fleece, a ring, in which was a gem charmed against poison, and would render the wearer invisible. ‘It was a sort of precious stone,’ says Lydgate, ‘which Virgil celebrates, and which Venus sent her son Æneas that he might enter Carthage.’

In the metrical romance of ‘Richard Cœur-de-Lion,’ King Modard gives him:—

Two riche rings of gold:
The stones wherein be full bold.
Hence to the land of Ind,
Better than they shalt thou not find.
For whoso hath that one stone,
Water ne shall him drench none.
That other stone whoso that bear
Fire ne shall him never dere (hurt).

In ‘Floire and Blanceflor’ the latter, drawing from her finger a ring containing a small talisman, says to her lover: ‘Floire, accept this as a pledge of our mutual love; look on it every day; if thou seest its brilliancy tarnished, it is a sign that my life or my liberty is in danger.’

In another part of the story, when going in search of Blanceflor, who has been carried away, Floire receives a ring from his mother: ‘Have now, lief son, this ring: whilst thou preservest it neither fire shall burn, nor water drown, nor weapon injure thee, and all thy wants shall be instantly supplied.’

In the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xix. p. 411) is a notice of a gold ring found in the ruins of the palace at Eltham, in Kent, bearing on the side edges of the interior the following inscription:—

Qui me portera ecploitera
Et a grant Joye revendra.
Who wears me shall perform exploits,
And with great Joy shall return:

implying that the ring was an amulet, and may, possibly, have been presented to some distinguished personage when setting out for the Holy Land in the time of the Crusades. The ring is set with an oriental ruby and five diamonds, placed at equal distances round the exterior.

Amulet ring.

The inscription is in small Gothic characters, but remarkably well-formed and legible. The shape of the ruby is an irregular oval, while the diamonds are all of a triangular form and in their natural crystallised state.

An emerald ring was thought to ensure purity of thought and conduct. In ‘Caltha Poetarium, or the Humble Bee,’ by T. Cutwode (1599), Diana is represented adorning the heroine of the piece:—

And, with an emerald, hangs she on a ring
That keeps just reckoning of our chastity:
······
And, therefore, ladies, it behoves you well
To walk full warily when stones will tell.

In the ballad of ‘Northumberland betrayed by Douglas,’ Mary, a Douglas that dabbled in sorcery, shows the chamberlain of Earl Percy, James Swynard, the foes of the former in the field, through the ‘weme’ (hollow) of her ring:—

I never was on English ground,
Ne never sawe it with mine eye,
But as my book it sheweth me,
And through my ring I may descrye.

The treachery of Earl Douglas is thus foreshadowed, and the chamberlain returns sorrowfully to his master with the news of what he had seen. Earl Percy, however, is determined to keep his hunting appointment with Douglas:—

Now nay, now nay, good James Swynard,
I may not believe that witch ladye;
The Douglasses were ever true,
And they can ne’er prove false to me.

The ‘witch-ladye’ who effects such powerful influences with her magic ring is, nevertheless, rewarded for her warnings:—

He writhe a gold ring from his finger
And gave itt to that gay ladye;
Sayes ‘it was all that I cold save
In Harley woods where I cold bee’ (where I was).

A ring story in which the Venus of antiquity assumes the manners of one of the Fays, or Fatæ of romance, is quoted by Sir Walter Scott in his notes to the ‘Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.’ It is related by Fordun in his ‘Scotichronicon,’ by Matthew of Westminster, and Roger of Wendover. In the year 1058 a young man of noble birth had been married at Rome, and during the period of the nuptial feast, having gone with his companions to play at ball, he put his marriage-ring on the finger of a broken statue of Venus in the area to remain while he was engaged in the recreation. Desisting from the exercise he found the finger on which he had placed the ring, contracted firmly against the palm, and attempted in vain either to break it, or to disengage his ring. He concealed the circumstance from his companions, and returned at night with a servant, when he found the finger extended and his ring gone. He dissembled the loss and returned to his wife; but whenever he attempted to embrace her he found himself prevented by something dark and dense, which was tangible, though not visible, interposing between them, and he heard a voice saying: ‘Embrace me, for I am Venus whom you this day wedded, and I will not restore your ring.’ As this was constantly repeated, he consulted his relations, who had recourse to Palumbus, a priest skilled in necromancy. He directed the young man to go at a certain hour of the night to a spot among the ancient ruins of Rome, where four roads met, and wait silently until he saw a company pass by; and then, without uttering a word, to deliver a letter which he gave him to a majestic being who rode in a chariot after the rest of the company. The young man did so, and saw a company of all ages, sexes, and ranks, on horse and on foot, some joyful and others sad, pass along; among whom he distinguished a woman in a meretricious dress, who, from the tenuity of her garments, seemed almost naked. She rode on a mule; her long hair, which flowed over her shoulders, was bound with a golden fillet, and in her hand was a gold rod with which she directed the mule. In the close of the procession a tall majestic figure appeared in a chariot adorned with emeralds and pearls, who fiercely asked the young man what he did there. He presented the letter in silence, which the demon dared not refuse. As soon as he had read, lifting up his hands to heaven, he exclaimed: ‘Almighty God, how long wilt thou endure the iniquities of the sorcerer Palumbus?’ and immediately despatched some of his attendants, who, with much difficulty, extorted the ring from Venus, and restored it to its owner, whose infernal bands were thus dissolved.[33]

Another mediæval story is founded on the same myth, but purified and Christianised. A knight is playing at ball and incommoded by his ring. He therefore removes it, and places it for safety on the finger of a statue of the Blessed Virgin. On seeking it again he finds the hand of the finger clasped, and is unable to recover his ring; whereupon the knight renounces the world, and, as the betrothed of the Virgin, enters a monastery.

Gifts of rings to the Virgin were common in the Middle Ages. Monstrelet relates that at the execution of the Constable of France, Louis de Luxembourg, in the reign of Louis XI., he took a gold ring set with a diamond from his finger, and, giving it to the Penitentiary, desired he would offer it to the image of the Virgin Mary, and place it on her finger, which he promised to perform.

Mr. J. Baring Gould, in his ‘Curious Myths of the Middle Ages,’ relates a legend by Cæsarius of Heisterboch of a similar character to that of Venus and the ring. A certain clerk, Philip, a great necromancer, took some Swabian and Bavarian youths to a lonely spot in a field, where, at their desire, he proceeded to perform incantations. First, he drew a circle round them with his sword, and warned them on no consideration to leave the ring.

Then, retiring from them a little space, he began his incantations, and suddenly there appeared around the youths a multitude of armed men brandishing weapons, and daring them to fight. The demons, failing to draw them by this means from their enchanted circle, vanished, and there was seen a company of beautiful damsels, dancing about the ring, and by their attitudes alluring the youths towards them. One of them, exceeding in beauty and grace the others, singled out a youth, and, dancing before him, extended to him a ring of gold, casting languishing glances towards him, and, by all the means in her power, endeavouring to attract his attention and kindle his passion. The young man, unable to resist any longer, put forth his finger beyond the circle to take the ring, and the apparition at once drew him towards her, and vanished with him. However, after much trouble, the necromancer was able to recover him from the evil spirit.

‘The incident of the ring,’ remarks Mr. Gould, ‘in connexion with the ancient goddess, is certainly taken from the old religion of the Teutonic and Scandinavian peoples. Freyja was represented in her temples holding a ring in her hand; so was Thorgerda Hördabrúda. The Faereyinga Saga relates an event in the life of the Faroese hero Sigmund Brestesson, which is to the point. “They (Earl Hakon and Sigmund) went to the temple, and the earl fell on the ground before her statue, and there he lay long. The statue was richly dressed, and had a heavy gold ring on the arm. And the earl stood up and touched the ring, and tried to remove it, but could not; and it seemed to Sigmund as though she frowned. Then the earl said: ‘She is not pleased with thee, Sigmund, and I do not know whether I shall be able to reconcile you; but that shall be the token of her favour, if she gives us the ring which she has in her hand.’ Then the earl took much silver, and laid it on her footstool before her, and again he flung himself before her, and Sigmund noticed that he wept profusely. And when he stood up he took the ring, and she let go of it. Then the earl gave it to Sigmund and said: ‘I give thee this ring to thy weal; never part with it;’ and Sigmund promised he would not.”

‘This ring occasions the death of the Faroese chief. In after years King Olaf, who converts him to Christianity, knowing that this gold ring is a relic of paganism, asks Sigmund to give it to him: the chief refuses, and the king angrily pronounces a warning that it will be the cause of his death. And his word falls true, for Sigmund is murdered in his sleep for the sake of the ring.’

There was no limit to the credulity of believers in the mystic in the middle and even in later ages. Sir Walter Scott, in his ‘Demonology and Witchcraft,’ remarks that the early dabblers in astrology and chemistry, although denying the use of all necromancy—that is, unlawful or black magic—pretended always to a correspondence with the various spirits of the elements, on the principle of the Rosicrucian philosophy. They affirmed that they could bind to their service, and imprison in a ring, a mirror, or a stone, some fairy sylph or salamander, and compel it to appear when called, and render answers to such questions as the viewer should propose.’[34]

In the reign of Henry VIII. (1533) Jones, the famous, or rather infamous, ‘Oxford Conjurer,’ told his dupe, Sir William Neville, that amongst other marvels he could make rings of gold which would ensure the favour of great men to those who wore them. He said ‘that my lord cardinal (Wolsey) had such,’ and he promised one to Sir William and his brother.[35]

It is not a little curious that Henry VIII. himself, the despoiler of monasteries, and, to a certain extent, the uprooter of many superstitious practices, placed such faith in the traditional virtues of a jewel that had for ages decked the shrine of Thomas à Becket at Canterbury that he caused it to be placed in a ring, which he constantly wore afterwards, in the manner of those times, on his enormous thumb. The last time that this jewel appears in history is among the ‘diamonds’ of the golden collar of his daughter Queen Mary, who, although a bigoted Roman Catholic, did not scruple to wear the spoils of a shrine. This jewel was called the ‘royal of France’ having been presented to the shrine of the murdered Archbishop by King Louis VII. in 1179.[36]

Charm-rings.

Religious charms were of exhaustless variety. In the Braybrooke Collection is a bone charm-ring, surmounted by a circular signet, on which is engraved the crucifix, with our Saviour upon it, and the two Maries standing on either side of the stem: round the edge of the signet is the inscription ‘In hoc signo vinces,’ headed with a small cross.

In the ‘Journal of the Archæological Institute’ (vol. iii. p. 358) is an account of a curious magical ring, found on the coast of Glamorganshire, near to the ‘Worm’s Head,’ the western extremity of the county, where numerous objects have been found at various times on the shifting of the sand, such as fire-arms, an astrolabe, and silver dollars. This ring is of gold, much bent and defaced, and inscribed with mystic words both inside and outside the hoop.

Talismanic ring.

‘The talismanic character of these mysterious words seems to be sufficiently proved by comparison with the physical charms given in an English medical MS., preserved at Stockholm, and published by the Society of Antiquaries. Amongst various cabalistic prescriptions is found one “for peynys in theth.... Boro berto briore + vulnera quinque dei sint medecina mei + Tahebal + ghether (or guthman) + + + Onthman,” &c. The last word should probably be read Guthman, and it is succeeded by five crosses, probably in allusion to the five wounds of the Saviour.’ It is supposed that this ring and the other remains alluded to indicate the spot where a Spanish or Portuguese vessel was wrecked about two hundred years ago.

The following engraving, from the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. iii. p. 267), represents another cabalistic ring, found in Worcestershire, and the property of Mr. Jabez Allies. It is of base metal, plated with gold, and is, apparently, of the fourteenth century.

Talismanic ring.

In the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. v. p. 159) is an engraving and description of a curious talismanic ring, with an inscription showing stronger evidence of oriental origin than any heretofore noticed, the Greek letters theta and gamma occurring twice in the legend. The discovery of this relic, which is of gold, weighing 56 grains, was singular. It was found in digging up the roots of an old oak-tree which had been blown down by a violent wind in 1846, on a farm called the ‘Rookery,’ in the parish of Calne, Wiltshire, belonging to Mr. Thomas Poynder, who thinks that the spot where the ring was found was in the track of the fugitive Royalists, after the battle at Rounday Hill, near Devizes, on their retreat towards Oxford, where the King’s head-quarters were stated to be at that time. This curious ring is divided into eight compartments, with a row of three little rounded points, or studs, between each. The hoop is bent irregularly, so that the inner circle presents seven straight sides, but the angles thus formed do not correspond precisely with the external divisions.

Talismanic ring.

Talismanic ring.

A talismanic ring of gold found in Coventry Park in 1802, represents in the centre device Christ rising from the sepulchre, and in the background are shown the hammer, sponge, and other emblems of the Passion. On the left is figured the wound at the side, with an inscription ‘the well of ewerlastingh lyffe.’ In the next compartment, two smaller wounds, with ‘the well of confort,’ ‘the well of gracy,’ and afterwards two other wounds inscribed ‘the well of pitty,’ ‘the well of merci.’

From some small remains it is evident that the figure of our Saviour, with all the inscriptions, had been filled with black enamel, whilst the wounds and drops of blood issuing from them were appropriately distinguished by red. On the inside of the ring is the following inscription: ‘Wulnera quinq’ dei sunt medecina mei, pia crux et passio x̄pi sunt medecina michi, Jaspar, Melchior, Baltasar, ananyzapta tetragrammaton.’

In the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xviii.) it is stated that Sir Edward Shaw, goldsmith and alderman of London, by his will (circâ 1487), directed to be made sixteen rings of ‘fyne gold, to be graven with the well of pitie, the well of mercie, and the well of everlasting life.’

It is, perhaps, impossible now to explain the import of the legends which occur on certain mediæval rings, and devices which are probably, in many cases, anagrammatic, and the original orthography of the legend corrupted and changed in others; but they, no doubt, had a talismanic meaning. A gold ring found in Rockingham Forest in 1841 has inscribed on the outer side, guttv: gutta: madros: adros; and in the inner side, vdros: udros: thebal. A thin gold ring discovered in a garden at Newark in 1741 was inscribed with the words Agla: Thalcvt: Calcvt: Cattama.

The mystic word, or anagram, Agla is engraved on the inner side of a silver ring (of the fourteenth century) found in 1846 on the site of the cemetery of St. Owen’s, which stood on the west site of Gloucester, a little without the south gate, and was destroyed during the siege of 1643. On the outside of the ring is engraved + Ave Maria, and within appear the letters Agla, with the symbol of the cross between each letter. The weight of the ring is 20 grs. The term Agla designated in the East a wand of dignity or office, and may possibly have been used in connection with magical or alchemical operations.

There is a notice of a curious magical ring against leprosy in the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xxi. p. 25, 120). In the Londesborough Collection is a ‘religious,’ or ‘superstitious’ ring of silver, the workmanship of which dates it at the end of the fifteenth century, and which is supposed to have been worn as a charm against St. Vitus’s dance. To a circular plate are attached three large bosses, and, between each, two smaller bosses, all the nine of which are hollow, and were filled, apparently, by some resinous substance. On the three larger bosses are engraved the letters S. M. V. (Sancta Maria Virgo) in relief.

In the same collection is a gold ring of the same century, the face engraved with St. Christopher bearing the infant Saviour, worn as a charm against sudden death, more particularly by drowning.

It is very delicately engraved. The circle is formed by ten lozenges, each of which bears a letter of the inscription, ‘de boen cuer.’

Amulet rings.

Sir John Woodford is in possession of a gold ring found on the field of Azincourt, which bears the inscription Buro. Berto. Beriora. These mystic words occur likewise in the charm against tooth-ache given in the Stockholm MS. (‘Archæological Journal,’ vol. iv. p. 78).

A thumb-ring was discovered a few years since in the coffin of an ecclesiastic, in Chichester Cathedral, set with an Abraxas gem,[37] an agate; the deceased churchman, it may be well believed, had worn it guiltless of all knowledge of Alexandrine pantheism. The ring was of gold, and was found on the right-hand thumb-bone of a skeleton, the supposed remains of Seffrid, Bishop of Chichester, A.D. 1125.

Cabalistic ring.

A very large ring, bearing great resemblance to the episcopal ring, was occasionally worn as a thumb-ring by the laity. In the Londesborough Collection is a fine specimen. It is somewhat roughly formed of mixed metal, and has upon the circular face a conventional representation of a monkey looking at himself in a hand-mirror. This is surrounded by a cable-moulding, and on each side is set two large stones. The outer edge of this ring is also decorated with a heavy cable-moulding; inside, next the figure, is the cross and sacred monogram, placed on each side of the mystic word anamzapta, showing it to be a charm-ring.

Another mystical ring in the same collection is inscribed, on an oval boss, hETh; the workmanship, probably English, of about the fifteenth century. This ring was bought at Ely. Heth was the sacred name of Jehovah. Dr. Dee and similar Gnostics composed several mystical arrangements founded on these four letters.

Mystical ring.

The Londesborough Collection has also a massive thumb-ring, having the tooth of some animal as its principal gem, supposed to have mystic power over its possessor. It is set all around with precious stones to ensure its potency.

Mystical ring.

The last leaf of the ‘Theophilus’ MS. of the fourteenth century has: ‘Against the falling sickness, write these characters upon a ring; outside, + ou. thebal gut guthani; inside, + eri gerari.’

A ring that had belonged to Remigius, being dipped in holy water, furnished, it is said, a good drink for fever and other diseases.

The sacred names of ‘Jesus,’ ‘Maria,’ and ‘Joseph’ were formerly inscribed on rings, and worn as preservatives against the plague. Rings simply made of gold were supposed to cure St. Antony’s fire, but if inscribed with magical words their effect was irresistible.

A representation is annexed of an amulet ring found near Oxford, about 1805, bearing an inscription Sca. Bar., Sancta Barbara. The legend of St. Barbara calls her a patroness against storms and lightning.

Amulet ring.

The following engraving represents an amulet wedding-ring, conjectured to be the figure of St. Catherine with her wheel, being an emblem of good fortune; the other being probably, St. Margaret (with the church), an emblem of her faith, wisdom, constancy, and fortitude: time of Richard II.

Amulet ring.

Rings in which pieces of what was asserted to be the ‘true cross’ were placed are sometimes met with in old writings. St. Gregory states that his sister wore one of this kind. That this belief was not always credited is seen in the case of an exchange of rings between a bishop and an abbot in the annals of St. Alban’s Abbey. This occurred in the reign of Richard II., when the Bishop of Lincoln (Beaufort) gave his to John, fifth abbot of St. Alban’s, for one containing a piece of the true cross, and was therefore earnestly prized and begged for by the bishop. Whether the prelate had his misgivings as to the alleged sanctity of the splinter, or considered the garniture of the ring too plain, he very soon after informed the abbot that his own ring was the most valuable of the two, and the difference in value must be paid to him in money. In his zeal for his material interests the bishop overlooked the assurances of friendship which the exchange conveyed, and the abbot was obliged to give him five pounds.

Relics of martyrs and saints were frequently inserted in rings: in the Londesborough Collection is a silver reliquary, probably intended for the thumb. It has a heart engraved on a lozenge, the reliquary being enclosed beneath. It was found in the ruins of the abbey of St. Bertin, at St. Omer.

In the possession of Lady Fitz Hardinge is a remarkable reliquary ring, of admirable workmanship, probably of the tenth century, perhaps Anglo-Saxon, but possibly of Irish (Celtic) origin. It is of gold with very large expanded bezel, cruciform or quatrefoil, 1⅞ in. wide. In the centre is a raised boss, intended, possibly, to contain a relic, as the ring is, no doubt, ecclesiastical; from this radiates four monsters’ heads, similar to those on early Irish work, marked with thin lines of niello, the eyes formed of dots of dark glass pastes, the whole edged with fine corded ornament.

In the collection of Mr. R. H. Soden Smith is a reliquary gold ring, having suspended on the bezel side a small gold relic-case, chased with two crosses, and edged with beaded work of the twelfth century.

Mr. Fairholt describes a curious Venetian ring, the bezel formed like a box to contain relics. The face of the ring has a representation of St. Mark seated, holding his gospel and giving a benediction. The spaces between this figure and the oval border are perforated, so that the interior of the box is visible, and the relic enshrined might be seen.

Liceti, a Genoese physician of the seventeenth century, who wrote a book on rings, ascribed the want of virtue in medicated rings to their small size, observing that the larger the ring or the gem contained in it, the greater was the effect. He endeavoured to prove that the Philistines, when they were punished for touching the ark of Israel, wore rings on their fingers with the image of the disease engraved on them by way of expiation.

Rings of the Magi.

The names of the Three Kings of Cologne constituted a popular charm against diseases and evil influences in the Middle Ages. The late Crofton Croker, in his description of the rings in the Londesborough Collection, mentions one dating from the fourteenth, or early in the fifteenth century, engraved outside with these names: Gasper: Melchior: Baltazar: in. God. is. a. r.—the latter words, probably, implying ‘in God is a remedy.’ The three Kings were supposed to be the Wise Men (according to the legend, three Kings of Arabia) who made offerings to our Saviour. Their bodies travelled first to Constantinople, thence to Milan, and, lastly, to Cologne, by various removals.[38] These three potent names have continued as a charm even to a late period; for, in January 1748-9, one William Jackson, a Roman Catholic, and a proscribed smuggler, being sentenced to death at Chichester, had a purse taken from his person, containing the following scrap:—

Sancti tres Reges,
Gaspar, Melchior, Baltasar,
Orate pro nobis nunc et in hora
Mortis nostræ.

The paper on which this invocation was written had touched the heads of the Three Kings at Cologne.

In ‘Reynard the Fox,’ the hero of that satirical work, describing the treasure he pretends to have discovered for the sole benefit of his royal master and mistress, says: ‘Oon of them was a rynge of fyne gold, and within the rynge next the fyngre were wreton lettres enameld wyth sable and asure, and there were three Hebrew names therein, y coude not myself rede ne spelle them, for I onderstand not that language, but mayster Abryon of Tryers, he is a wise man, he onderstandeth wel al maner of langages, and the virtue of al maner of herbes. And yet he byleveth not in God, he is a Jewe, the wysest in conynge, and specyally he knoweth the virtue of stones. I shewed him thys ryng, he sayd that they were the thre names that Seth brought out of Paradys, when he brought to his fader Adam the oyle of mercy. And whomsoever bereth on hym thyse thre names, he shal never be hurte by throndre ne by lyghtning, ne no wytchcraft shal have no power over hym, ne be tempted to doo synne; and also he shall never take harme by colde though he laye thre wynters long nyghtes in the felde though it snowed, stormed, or froze never soo sore, so grete myghte have these wordes.’

The stone set in the ring and its wonderful properties are then enumerated, and the conclusion is: ‘I thought in myself that I was not able ne worthy to bere it, and therefore I sent it to my dere lord, the Kyng, for I knew hym for the moost noble that now lyveth, and also all our welfare and worship lyeth on hym, and for he shold be kepte fro al drede, nede, and ungeluck.’

While the names of saints were employed for the prevention or relief of bodily ailments, those of ‘devils’ were made the agency for criminal objects; thus we read in Monstrelet’s ‘Chronicles,’ that in the plea of justification made by the Duke of Burgundy for the assassination of Louis, Duke of Orleans, in 1407, he accused the latter of having conspired against the King of France by means of sorcery. Among other things a ring was made use of ‘in the name of devils.’ A monk undertook this ‘who performed many superstitious acts near a bush, with invocations to the devil.’ Two evil spirits appeared to him in the shape of two men, one of whom took the ring, which had been placed on the ground, and vanished. After half an hour he returned, and gave the ring to the monk, ‘which to the sight was the colour of red, nearly scarlet,’ and said to him: ‘Thou wilt put it into the mouth of a dead man in the manner thou knowest,’ and then vanished. The monk obeyed these instructions ‘thinking to burn the lord our King.’

Mr. Fairholt describes a mechanical ring, of mystic signification, as one of the most curious rings in the Londesborough Collection. The outside of the hoop is perfectly plain, and is set with a ruby and amethyst. Upon pressing these stones a spring opens, and discovers the surface covered with magical signs and names of spirits; among them Asmodiel, Nachiel, and Zamiel occur, a similar series occupying the interior of the hoop. Such a ring might be worn without suspicion of its true import, looking simplicity itself, but fraught with unholy meaning. It was, probably, constructed for some German mystic philosopher, at a time when students like Faust devoted themselves and their fortune to occult sciences, believing in the philosopher’s stone, the elixir of life, and the power given to man to control the unseen world of spirits.

Cabalistic ring.

Among the charges brought against Joan of Arc were that she had charmed rings to secure victory over her enemies.

The ancient physicians and empirics employed numerous charms for the cure of diseases, and the practice was common among the medical professors of the middle and lower Roman empire. Marcellus, a physician who lived in the reign of Marcus Aurelius, directs the patient who is afflicted with a pain in the side to wear a ring of pure gold, inscribed with some Greek letters, on a Thursday, at the decrease of the moon. It was to be worn on the right hand if the pain was on the left side, and vice versâ. Trallian, another physician, living in the fourth century, cured the colic and all bilious complaints by means of an octangular ring of iron, on which eight words were to be engraved, commanding the bile to take possession of a lark! A magic diagram was to be added. He tells us that he had great experience in this remedy, and had considered it extremely foolish to omit recording so valuable a treasure, but he particularly enjoined keeping it a secret from the profane vulgar, according to an admonition of Hippocrates, that sacred things are for sacred persons only. He recommends also a cure for the stone by wearing a copper ring with the figure of a lion, a crescent, and a star, to be placed on the fourth finger; and for the colic in general a ring with Hercules strangling the Nemæan lion.

Michaelis, a physician of Leipsic, had a ring made of a sea-horse’s tooth, which he applied to all diseases indiscriminately,[39] but jasper was the favourite substance employed when a particular disorder was in question.

Rings with Mottoes, worn as Medicaments.

Galen mentions a green jasper amulet belonging to the Egyptian King Nechepsus, who lived 630 years before the Christian era. It was cut in the form of a dragon surrounded with rays, and worn to strengthen the organs of digestion.

The numerous magical properties of the jasper made it a favourite among the Gnostic or Basilidian gems.

At a meeting of the Society of Antiquaries in March 1875 Mr. Robert Ferguson, M.P., &c., exhibited among other rings, one of yellow metal, with Anglo-Saxon runes;[40] diameter 1¹⁄10 inch. It bears an inscription similar to the Cumberland specimen now in the British Museum. The ring is said to have belonged to a Major Macdonald, in 1745, and was obtained by Mr. Ferguson from his descendant. Mr. Ferguson has since presented this ring to the British Museum.

A somewhat similar ring, the property of the Earl of Aberdeen, is described in the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. xxi. p. 256) bearing the Runic inscription, ‘whether in fever or leprosy, the patient be happy and confident in the hope of recovery.’

Runic.

The accompanying illustration represents a Dano-Saxon ring worn as a charm against the plague, and bearing an inscription thus rendered:—

Raise us from dust we pray to thee;
From pestilence O set us free,
Although the grave unwilling be.

Dano-Saxon Runic ring.

At the proceedings of the Royal Society of Antiquaries at Copenhagen, in 1838, a gold ring with a Runic inscription, found in Fionia, was exhibited. The words röd eg lagd álaga may be rendered ‘I guide the chain of destiny,’ and show that its Scandinavian possessor considered it an amulet.

Rings of lead, mixed with quicksilver, were used against headaches and other complaints.

In the ‘Récueil des Historiens de France’ we read that Passavant, Bishop of Mans, possessed a ring which had belonged to Gulpherius de Lastour, during the Crusades, which was very precious, and cured a great number of sick persons.

A gold ring of the fourteenth century, in the Londesborough Collection, has an inscription which, freely translated, is ‘May you be preserved from the evil eye!’

In the Shrewsbury Museum is a small iron ring, with an intaglio representing a fawn springing out of a nautilus-shell. It was discovered at Wroxeter. This and similar devices the Rev. C. W. King ascribes as probable charms against the ‘evil eye.’

This superstition still prevails extensively in the East, and is also entertained in many parts of Europe. That it was well known to Romans we have the authority of Virgil: ‘Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos’ (Ecl. iii.).

The following engraving (from the Collection Chabouillet) represents a Greek amulet ring, adopted by the Etruscans and Romans, and which offers, by the stone and setting, the figure of an eye. These rings were movable, and turned on the axis.

Amulet against the ‘evil eye.’

The great preservative against this was the wearing of a ring, with the figure of a cockatrice, supposed to proceed from a cock’s egg under various planetary and talismanic influences. The Londesborough thumb-ring has two cockatrices cut in high relief upon an agate.

Amulets against the ‘evil eye.’

The deadly power of the cockatrice is alluded to by Shakspeare in ‘Twelfth Night’ and in ‘Romeo and Juliet’—

Say thou but I,
And that base vowel I shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.

So Dryden says:—

Mischiefs are like the cockatrice’s eye;
If they see first, they kill; if seen, they die—

alluding to the counter-action, that if the creature was seen by a person first, without being perceived by it, the cockatrice died from the effect of the human eye. The figure of the bird merely gave security against the evil eye; it had no other effect, and for this purpose various engraved stones were used. Thus a ring in the Londesborough Collection has in its centre a Gnostic gem with cabalistic figures, believed able to avert the dreadful glance.

In the same collection is a massive thumb-ring, having the tooth of some animal as its principal gem, supposed to have mystic power over the fortunes of its possessor. It is set all round with precious stones of talismanic virtues.

A dove, with a branch of olive in its mouth, engraved in pyrites, and mounted in a silver ring, ensured the wearer the utmost hospitality wherever he went, possessing the power of fascination. A fair head, well combed, with a handsome face, engraved on a gem, secured joy, reverence, and honour.

Rings made of the bones of an ostrich were assumed to be of rare virtue.

Charm-ring.

Annexed is a representation of a silver charm-ring in the South Kensington Museum; the hoop is spirally fluted, widening towards the bezel, which is set with a tooth; the shoulder of the ring is pierced in floriated German work of the eighteenth century.

In the Waterton Collection are several rings of hoof—probably that of an ass—enclosed in gold, and considered a remedy for epilepsy. From Cardan (de Venenis) we learn, among other means for a physician to find out whether a patient is ‘fascinated,’ that of a ring made of the hoof of an ass, put on his finger, growing too large for him after a few days’ wearing. It seems that among the Indians and Norwegians the hoof of the elk is regarded as a sovereign cure for the same malady. The person afflicted applies it to his heart, holding it in his left hand, and rubbing his ear with it.

Brand, in his ‘Popular Antiquities,’ states that in Berkshire a ring made from a piece of silver collected at the Communion is supposed to be a cure for convulsions and fits of every kind. If collected on Easter Sunday its efficacy is greatly increased. Silver is not considered necessary in Devonshire, where a ring is preferred made out of three nails or screws that have been used to fasten a coffin, and that have been dug out of the churchyard. It is curious to notice that, according to Pliny, the ancients believed that a nail drawn out of a sepulchre and placed on the threshold of a bed-chamber door would drive away phantoms in the night.

In Lucian’s ‘Philopseudes’ one of the interlocutors states ‘that since an Arabian had presented him with a ring made of iron taken from the gallows, together with a written charm, he had ceased to be afraid of the demoniacs, who had been healed by a Syrian in Palestine.’

In the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for 1794 we are told that a silver ring will cure fits when it is made from five sixpences collected from as many bachelors, to be conveyed by the hands of a bachelor to a smith that is a bachelor. None of the persons who gave the sixpences were to know for what purpose, or to whom they gave them. The ‘London Medical and Physical Journal’ for 1815 notices a charm successfully employed in the cure of epilepsy, after the failure of various medical means. It consisted of a silver ring contributed by twelve young women, and was to be constantly worn on one of the fingers of the patient.

In ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. i. 2nd series, p. 331) we find a Gloucestershire ring prescription for epilepsy, which shows the persistence of credulity even in the present enlightened period. ‘The curate of Hasfield, going into the house of a parishioner whose daughter was afflicted with epileptic fits, was accosted by the mother of the damsel in a most joyous tone: “Oh! sir, Emma has got her ring.” The good curate, fearing that the poor girl might have stooped to folly, and that this was an intimation that her swain intended to make an honest woman of her, sought an explanation, which was afforded in the following prescription:—“Why, you see, sir, our Emma has been long troubled with the fits, and she went to the church door, and asked a penny from every unmarried man that went in, till she got twenty-four. She then took them to a silversmith in Gloucester, who promised to get them changed for ‘Sacrament’ money (which he said he could easily do, as he knew one of the cathedral clergy). And with that money, sir, he made her a silver ring, and Emma is wearing it, and has not had a fit since.”’

In Somersetshire it is a popular belief that the ring-finger, stroked along any sore or wound, will soon heal it. All the other fingers would poison the finger instead of healing it. It is still an article of belief in some persons that there is virtue enough in a gold ring to remove a stye from the eye, if it be rubbed with it.

Although silver appears to be the happy medium chiefly in these wonderful cures, yet we are told that Paracelsus had a ring made of a variety of metallic substances, which he called electrum, and which not only cured epilepsy, but almost every other complaint.

At the meeting of the ‘Society of Antiquaries’ (June 12, 1873) a very interesting collection of so-called Tau (T) rings were exhibited by Octavius Morgan, Esq., F.R.S., F.S.A. These, bearing the mystical emblem of the T (tau), are by no means of frequent occurrence, and it is not likely that so many were ever brought together before. The tau was early esteemed a sacred symbol, and was considered to be the mark placed on the forehead, as mentioned in the Bible. ‘I have,’ remarks Mr. Morgan, ‘in my collection a champlevé enamel of the thirteenth century, where the “man in the linen garment,” as mentioned in Ezekiel ix., is represented marking the T on the forehead of the faithful children of Israel. A mystical virtue was attached to this T, and, in company with the word ANANIZAPTA—which, being faithfully translated from the Chaldee, according to the Rev. C. W. King, means, “Have mercy on us, O Judge”—was thought a most powerful prophylactic against epilepsy.’

A description of these curious rings will be found in the ‘Proceedings of the Society’ (vol. vi. No. 1, pp. 51, 53).

A toadstone ring (the fossil palatal tooth of a species of Ray) was supposed to protect new-born children and their mothers from the power of the fairies; and this continued a late-day superstition, for Joanna Baillie, in a letter to Sir Walter Scott, mentions one having been repeatedly borrowed from her mother for that purpose. It was believed also to be a specific in cases of diseased kidney, when immersed in water which was drunk by the patient.

In the inventory of the Duke de Berry is mentioned ‘une crapaudine assize en un annel d’or;’ also, in the inventory of the Duke of Burgundy, we find ‘deux crapaudines, l’une en ung anneau d’or, l’autre en ung anneau d’argent.’ These were highly esteemed for their magical properties, as I have remarked, and were probably also worn to prevent the administration of poison, being supposed to indicate its presence by perspiring and changing colour. Fenton, who wrote in 1569, says, ‘Being used in rings they give forewarning of venom.’ In Ben Jonson’s ‘Fox’ (ii. 5) it is thus alluded to:—

Were you enamoured on his copper rings,
His saffron jewel, with the toadstone in’t?

Lupton, in his ‘Thousand Notable Things,’ says that the stone (which, according to Fenton, was most commonly found in the head of a he-toad) was not easily attained, for the toad ‘envieth so much that man should have that stone. To know whether the stone called crapaudina be the right or perfect stone or not, hold the stone before a toad so that he may see it, and, if it be a right and true stone, the toad will leap towards it, and make as though he would snatch it from you.’

Silver toadstone ring
(fifteenth century).

An ingenious method of obtaining the stone is given by the same writer: ‘Put a great or overgrown toad (first bruised in divers places) into an earthen pot; put the same into an ant’s hillock, and cover the same with earth, which toad at length the ants will eat, so that the bones of the toad and stone will be left in the pot.’ A mediæval author, however, states that the stone should be obtained while the toad is living, and this may be done by simply placing upon him a piece of scarlet cloth, ‘wherewithal they are much delighted, so that, while they stretch out themselves as it were in sport upon that cloth, they cast out the stone of their head, but instantly they sup it up again, unless it be taken from them through some secret hole in the same cloth.’

The scarlet, however did not always perform this miracle, for Boethius relates how he watched a whole night an old toad he had laid on a red cloth to see him cast forth the stone, but the toad was stubborn, and left him nothing to ‘gratify the great pangs of his whole night’s restlessness.’

The Londesborough Collection contains two remarkable specimens of rings connected with toad superstition, thus described by Mr. Fairholt: ‘The first is of mixed metal, gilt, having upon it the figure of a toad swallowing a serpent. There is a mediæval story of a necromancer introducing himself to another professor of magic by showing him a serpent-ring, upon which the latter, who did not desire anyone to interfere with his practice, produced his toadstone ring, observing that the toad might swallow the serpent, thereby intimating his power to overcome him. The second ring is curious, not only as containing the true toad-stone, but the stone is embossed with the figure of a toad, according to the description of Albertus Magnus, who describes the most valuable variety of this coveted gem as having the figure of the reptile engraved on it.’

Toadstone rings.

Prætorius mentions that a member of the German house of Alveschleben received a ring from a ‘Nixe’ to which the future fortunes of his line were to be attached.

The turquoise ring of Shylock, which he would not have given for a ‘wilderness of monkeys’ (‘Merchant of Venice,’ scene i.), was probably more esteemed for its secret virtues than from any commercial value, the turquoise, turkise, or turkey-stone having, from remote periods, been supposed to possess talismanic properties. Fenton, in his ‘Secret Wonders of Nature’ (1569), thus describes the stone: ‘The turkeys doth move when there is any peril prepared to him that weareth it.’

Dr. Donne alludes to

A compassionate turquoise, that doth tell,
By looking pale, the wearer is not well.

Among the virtues of the turquoise is one which would spare us the shame of a divorce-court, as it was believed to take away all enmity, and to reconcile man and wife. Holinshed, speaking of the death of King John, says: ‘And when the king suspected them (the pears) to be poisoned indeed, by reason of such precious stones as he had about him cast forth a certain sweat, as it were bewraeing the poison, &c.’ The turquoise was a supposed monitor of poison from this circumstance.

‘With the Germans the turquoise is still the gem appropriated to the ring, the “gage d’amour,” presented by the lover on the acceptance of his suit, the permanence of its colour being believed to depend upon the constancy of his affection. Inasmuch as this stone is almost as liable to change, and as capriciously as the heart itself, the omen it gives is verified with sufficient frequency to maintain its reputation for infallibility’ (The Rev. C. W. King, on ‘Precious Stones,’ &c.).

Camillus Leonardus, in the ‘Mirror of Stones,’ describes the carbuncle as ‘brandishing its fiery rays on every side, and in the dark appearing like a fiery coal. It is esteemed the first among burning gems.’

The ancients supposed this stone to give out a native light without reflection, and they ranked it fifth in order, after diamonds, emeralds, opals, and pearls. The virtue of the carbuncle was to drive away poisonous air, repress luxury, and preserve the health of the body. The wonderful light emitted from the stone is one of the most prolific resources of romance among old writers.

Shakspeare alludes to the superstition in ‘Titus Andronicus’ (Act ii. sc. 4).

Martius. Lord Bassianus lies embruèd here
All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
Quintus. If it be dark, how dost thou know ’tis he?
Martius. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring that lightens all the hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks,
And shows the rugged entrails of the pit.

Ben Jonson and Drayton also refer to the same superstition.

The change of colours[41] in stones, portent of evil, was a deep-set superstition in most parts of the world. In the Scotch ballad of ‘Hynd Horn’ we find:—

And she gave to me a gay gold ring
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
With three shining diamonds set therein,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
······
What if these diamonds lose their hue,
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
Just when my love begins for to rew,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
For when your ring turns pale and wan
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
Then I’m in love with another man,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
······
Seven long years he has been on the sea,
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
And Hynd Horn has looked how his ring may be,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
But when he looked this ring upon,
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
The shining diamonds were pale and wan,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.
Oh! the ring it was both black and blue,
With a hey lillelu and a how lo lau,
And she’s either dead or she’s married,
And the birk and the brume blooms bonnie.

A curious passage occurs in a letter addressed by Lord Chancellor Hatton to Sir Thomas Smith, preserved among the Harleian MSS., relating to an epidemic then prevailing: ‘I am likewise bold to commend my humble duty to our dear mistress (Queen Elizabeth) by this letter and ring, which hath the virtue to expel infectious airs, and is (as it letteth me) to be worn between the sweet duggs, the chaste nest of pure constancy (!). I trust, sir, when the virtue is known it shall not be refused for the value.’

‘Medijcinable’ rings for the cure of the falling sickness and the cramp are mentioned in the Household Books of Henry IV. and Edward IV.; the metal they were composed of was what formed the King’s offering to the Cross on Good Friday, that day being appointed for the blessing of the rings.

The following entry occurs in the account of the seventh and eighth years of Henry IV. (1406). ‘In oblacionibus domini regis factis adorando crucem in capella infra manerium suum de Eltham, die parasceves, in precio trium nobilium auri, et v. solidorum sterlyng, xxv. s.’

‘In denariis solutis pro eisdem oblacionibus reassumptis, pro annulis medicinalibus inde faciendis, xxv. s.’

A ring considered to possess some healing or talismanic virtues was also termed, in mediæval Latin, vertuosus. Thus Thomas de Hoton, rector of Kyrkebymisperton, 1351, bequeathed to his chaplain ‘j. zonam de serico, j. bonam bursam, j. firmaculum, et j. anulum vertuosum. Item, domino Thome de Bouthum, j. par de bedes de corall, j. annulum vertuosum.’

Andrew Boorde, who lived in the reign of Henry VIII., alluding to the cramp-rings, says, in his ‘Introduction to Knowledge,’ the ‘Kynges of England doth halow every yere crampe rynges, ye whych rynges worn on one’s finger doth helpe them whych have the crampe.’ And, again, in his ‘Breviary of Health’ (1557), he writes: ‘The kynge’s majesty hath a great helpe in this matter in halowynge crampe rings, and so given without money or petition, ye which rynges worne on one’s finger doth helpe them,’ &c. This ceremonial was practised by previous sovereigns. Hospinian gives an account of the proceedings, and states that they took place on Good Friday, and originated from the famous ‘pilgrim’ ring of King Edward the Confessor. According to tradition the sapphire in the British crown came from this ring, the possession of which gave English sovereigns the power of procuring an efficacious blessing to the cramp-rings. Gardiner, in 1529, received a number of cramp-rings to distribute among the English embassage to the Pope, ‘the royal fingers pouring such virtue into the metal that no disorder could resist it.’[42]

Silver Cramp-ring.

The superstitious belief in the efficacy of cramp-rings was by no means, as we have seen, confined to the ignorant and uneducated classes; even Lord Berners, ambassador to the Emperor Charles V., writing to ‘my Lord Chancellor’s Grace’ from Saragossa (June 30, 1518), says, ‘If your Grace remember me with some crampe-ryngs, ye shall doe a thing muche looked for, and I trust to bestowe theym well, with Goddes grace, who evermore preserve and increase your most reverent estate.’

The late Cardinal Wiseman (‘Notes and Queries,’ vol. vii., 1st series, p. 89) had in his possession a manuscript containing both the ceremony for the blessing of the cramp-rings, and that for the touching for the King’s evil. At the commencement of the manuscript are emblazoned the arms of Philip and Mary. The first ceremony is headed ‘Certain Prayers to be used by the Quene’s Heignes in the Consecration of the Crampe-rynges.’ Accompanying it is an illumination, representing the queen kneeling, with a dish containing the rings to be blessed on each side of her. The second Ceremony is entitled ‘The ceremonye for ye Heling of them that be diseased with the Kynge’s Evill.’ This manuscript was exhibited at a meeting of the Archæological Institute, June 6, 1851.

In Burnet (vol. ii. p. 266 of ‘Records’) there is the whole Latin formula of the consecration of the cramp-rings. It commences with the psalm ‘Deus misereatur nostri.’ Then follows a prayer invoking the aid of the Holy Spirit: the rings then lying in one basin or more, a prayer was said over them, from which we learn that the rings were made of metal, and were to expel all living venom of serpents. The rings were then blessed with an invocation to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and signed frequently with the cross. In the last benediction the prayer is made ‘that the rings may restore contracted nerves.’ A psalm of benediction follows, and a prayer against the frauds of devils. ‘The Queen’s Highness then rubbeth the rings between her hands, saying the prayer implying that as her hands rub the rings, the virtue of the holy oil wherewith she was anointed might be infused into their metal, and, by the grace of God, might be efficacious.’ The remainder of the curious ceremony concluded with holy water being poured into the basin with further prayers. This ceremonial was practised by previous sovereigns, and discontinued by Edward VI. Queen Mary intended to revive it, and, in all probability, did so, from the manuscript to which I have alluded as having belonged to the late Cardinal Wiseman.[43]

The annexed cut represents a cramp-ring of lead, simply cast in a mould, and sold cheap for the use of the commonalty. It belongs to the fourteenth century.

Lead Cramp-ring.

A curious remnant or corruption of the use of cramp-rings at the present time is noticed by Mr. Rokewode, who says that in Suffolk the use of cramp-rings as a preventive against fits is not entirely abandoned: ‘Instances occur where young men of a parish each subscribe a crooked sixpence to be moulded into a ring for a young woman afflicted with that malady.’

The use of galvanic rings for the cure of rheumatism belongs to our own time, and is by no means extinct; however, we have no right to class this practice among our superstitions. After all, faith works wonders!

Particular rings were worn on certain days from superstitious motives; thus in the inventory of Charles V., in 1379, a ring with a cameo representing a Christian subject is thus described:—‘annel des vendredis, lequel est néellé et y est la croix double noire de chacun costé, où il y a ung crucifix d’un camayeux, Saint Jean et Notre-Dame, et deux angeloz sur les bras de la croix, et le porte le roy continuellement les vendredis.’

Evil portents with regard to rings prevailed in the reign of Elizabeth. The queen’s coronation-ring, which she had worn constantly since her inauguration, having grown into her finger, necessitated the ring being filed off, and this was regarded as an unfavourable augury by many, who, doubtless, attributed any untoward event that occurred at this period to an omen. Few were more credulous in such matters than the strong-minded (in most respects) queen herself, who was a firm believer in the still popular superstition of ‘good luck.’

Long after this period, however, there were not wanting believers in the supernatural efficacy of charmed rings; there was even a charge against the Puritans of having contributed to foster the popular delusion. In the ‘Scourge,’ a series of weekly papers which appeared between 1717 and 1718, alluding to May 29, the writer says of the Roundheads: ‘Yet these priests of Baal had so poisoned the minds of the populace with such delusive enchantments that from rings, bodkins, and thimbles, like the Israelitish calf of gold, would start up a troop of horse to reinforce the saints.’

Even to a comparatively late period the belief in the Gnostic amulets was current in our own country. Immediately after the battle of Culloden the baggage of Prince Charles Edward fell into the hands of the Duke of Cumberland’s army, and many private and curious articles came into the possession of General Belford—amongst others a stone set in silver attached to a ring, which probably the superstitious Prince may have obtained on the Continent as a charm, and carried it as a protection in the hazardous enterprise in which he was engaged. It was a ruby blood-stone, having on one face the figure of Mars, with the inscription beside it, I A w. On the other face was a female naked figure, probably Isis, with the inscription, A T I T A.

The ancient superstition of securing the favour of the great by wearing certain precious stones appears in the East by the aid of a talismanic ring—simply, however, of silver, without the assistance of a jewel. In Herbelot’s ‘Customs of the Mussulmans of India’ a formula is given for the making of these rings: ‘Should anyone desire to make princes and grandees subject and obedient to his will he must have a silver ring made, with a small square tablet fixed on it, upon which is to be engraved the number that the letters composing the ism represent, which in this case is 2.613. This number by itself, or added to that of its two demons, 286 and 112, and its genius, 1,811—amounting in all to 4,822—must be formed into a magic square of the solacee or robace kind, and engraved. When the ring is thus finished, he is, for a week, to place it before him, and daily, in the morning and in the evening, to repeat the ism five thousand times, and blow on it. When the whole is concluded he is to wear the ring on the little finger of the right hand.’

The losing of a ring given as a pledge of affection was considered in former times, as it is not unfrequently now, to be an omen of mishap. The widow of Viscount Dundee, the famous Claverhouse, was met and wooed at Colzium House, in Stirlingshire, by William Livingstone (afterwards Viscount Kilsyth). As a pledge of his love he presented her with a ring, which she lost, next day, in the garden; and this giving rise to sad presentiments, a large reward was offered for its finding and restoration. Strange it may seem, but Lady Kilsyth was killed in Holland with her infant, by the fall of a house, and their bodies were brought to Scotland and interred at Kilsyth. In 1796 the tenant of the garden in which the ring was lost discovered it, when digging for potatoes, in a clod of earth. At first he regarded it as a bauble, but the moment the inscription became apparent the tradition came fresh to his recollection, and he found it was the identical ring of Lady Kilsyth. It was of gold and about the value of ten shillings; nearly the breadth of a straw, and without any stone. The external surface is ornamented with a wreath of myrtle, and on the internal surface is the legend: ‘Zovrs onlly & euver.’ This ring came into the possession of the Edmonstone family.

In Sir John Bramstone’s autobiography (1631) it is related that his stepmother dropped her wedding-ring off her finger into the sea, near the shore, when she pulled off her glove. She would not go home without the ring, ‘it being the most unfortunate that could befall anyone to lose the wedding ring.’ Happily for her comfort, the ring was found.

Rings bursting on the fingers, as an ill-omen, is thus alluded to in the Scotch ballad of ‘Lammilsin’:

····
The Lord sat in England
A drinking the wine.
I wish a may be weel
Wi’ my lady at hame;
For the rings of my fingers
They’re now burst in twain.

In the ‘State Trials’ (vol. xiv., Case of Mary Norkott and John Okeman) is a curious instance of superstition connected with the marriage-ring. It was a case of murder, and the victim, at the touch of the person accused of the crime, ‘thrust out the ring or marriage-finger three times, and pulled it in again, and the finger dropped blood upon the grass.’ Sir Nicholas Hyde said to the witness: ‘Who saw this beside you?’ The answer was: ‘I cannot swear what others saw; but, my Lord, I do believe the whole company saw it, and if it had been thought a doubt, proof would have been made of it, and many would have attested with me.’

The breaking of a ring was of ominous import. Atkinson, in his ‘Memoirs of the Queen of Prussia,’ says: ‘The betrothal of the young couple (Frederic and Sophia Charlotte, first King and Queen of Prussia) speedily followed. I believe it was during the festivities attendant upon this occasion that a ring worn by Frederic, in memory of his deceased wife, with the device of clasped hands, and the motto “à jamais,” suddenly broke, which was looked upon as an omen that this union, likewise, was to be of short duration.’

The breaking of a wedding-ring is still regarded in some parts of England as an import that its wearer will soon be a widow. A correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries’ found this superstition current in Essex a few years ago. A man had been murdered in that county, and his widow said: ‘I thought I should soon lose him, for I broke my wedding-ring the other day, and my sister lost her husband after breaking her ring. It is a sure sign’!

It was an olden superstition that the bending of the leaves to the right or to the left of the orpine plants, or Mid-summer men, as they were called (Telephium), would never fail to tell whether a lover was true or false. In an old poem, the ‘Cottage Girl,’ we find:—

Oft on the shrub she casts her eye,
That spoke her true love’s secret sigh;
Or else, alas, too plainly told
Her true love’s faithless heart was cold.

In 1801 a small gold ring was exhibited at the Society of Antiquaries (found in a ploughed field near Cawood, in Yorkshire) which had for a device two orpine plants joined by a true-love knot, with a motto above: ‘ma fiance velt,’ my sweetheart wills, or is desirous. The stalks of the plants were bent to each other, in token that the parties represented by them were to come together in marriage. The motto under the ring was: ‘Joye l’amour feu.’ From the form of the letters it appeared to have been a ring of the fifteenth century.

The ring conferring divination powers on the wedding-cake is thus alluded to in the ‘St. James’s Chronicle’ (1799):—

Enlivening source of Hymeneal mirth,
All hail the blest receipt that gave thee birth!
Though Flora culls the fairest of her bowers,
And strews the path of Hymen with her flowers,
Nor half the raptures give her scatter’d sweets,
The Cake far kinder gratulation meets.
The bridesmaid’s eyes with sparkling glances beam,
She views the cake, and greets the promised dream;
For, when endowed with necromantic spell,
She knows what wondrous things the cake will tell.
When from the altar comes the pensive bride,
With downcast looks, her partner at her side,
Soon from the ground these thoughtful looks arise
To meet the cake that gayer thoughts supplies.
With her own hands she charms each destined slice,
And through the ring repeats the trebled thrice.
The hallow’d ring, infusing magic power,
Bids Hymen’s visions wait the midnight hour;
The mystic treasure placed beneath her head
Will tell the fair if haply she will wed.
These mysteries portentous lie conceal’d
Till Morpheus calls and bids them stand reveal’d;
The future husband that night’s dream will bring,
Whether a parson, soldier, beggar, king,
As partner of her life the fair must take,
Irrevocable doom of Bridal-cake.

Rowe, in his ‘Happy Village’ (1796), says ‘the wedding-cake now through the ring was led.’

The connection between the bride-cake and wedding-ring is strongly marked in the following custom, still retained in Yorkshire, where the former is cut into little square pieces, thrown over the bridegroom and bride’s head, and then put through the ring.

In the North slices of the bride-cake are put through the wedding-ring, and they are afterwards laid under the pillows at night to cause young persons to dream of their lovers. Douce’s manuscript notes say: ‘This is not peculiar to the north of England, but seems to prevail generally; the pieces of cake must be drawn nine times through the wedding-ring.’

In Brand’s ‘Popular Antiquities’ we read: ‘Many married women are so rigid, not to say superstitious, in their notions concerning their wedding-rings, that neither when they wash their hands, nor at any other time, will they take the ring off the finger; extending, it should seem, the expression of “till death do us part” even to this golden circlet, the token and pledge of matrimony.’ There is an old proverb on the subject of wedding-rings, which has, no doubt, been many a time quoted for the purpose of encouraging and hastening the consent of a diffident or timorous mistress:—

As your wedding-ring wears,
Your cares will wear away.

A charm-divination on October 6, St. Faith’s day, is still in use in the north of England. A cake of flour, spring water, salt, and sugar, is made by three girls, each having an equal hand in the composition. It is then baked in a Dutch oven, silence being strictly preserved, and turned thrice by each person. When it is well baked it must be divided into three equal parts, and each girl must cut her share into nine pieces, drawing every piece through a wedding-ring which has been borrowed from a woman who has been married seven years. Each girl must eat her pieces of cake while she is undressing, and repeat the following verses:—

O good St. Faith, be kind to-night,
And bring to me my heart’s delight;
Let me my future husband view,
And be my visions chaste and true.

All three must then get into one bed, with the ring suspended by a string to the head of the couch. They will then dream of their future husbands.

A very singular divination practised at the period of the harvest-moon is thus described in an old chap-book: ‘When you go to bed place under your pillow a Prayer-book open at the part of the Matrimonial Service, “With this ring I thee wed;” place on it a key, a ring, a flower, and a sprig of willow, a small heart-cake, a crust of bread, and the following cards: the ten of clubs, nine of hearts, ace of spades, and the ace of diamonds. Wrap all these in a thin handkerchief of gauze or muslin, and on getting into bed cross your hands and say:—

Luna, every woman’s friend,
To me thy goodness condescend;
Let me this night in visions see
Emblems of my destiny.

If you dream of storms, trouble will betide you; if the storm ends in a fine calm, so will your fate; if of a ring, or the ace of diamonds, marriage; bread, an industrious life; cake, a prosperous life; flowers, joy; willow, treachery in love; spades, death; diamonds, money; clubs, a foreign land; hearts, base children; keys, that you will rise to great trust and power, and never know want; birds, that you will have many children; and geese, that you will marry more than once.’

There is an old superstition on the colours of stones in ‘keepsake’ rings:—

Oh, green is forsaken
And yellow’s forsworn,
But blue is the prettiest colour that’s worn.

A correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries’ observes that in the district about Burnley it is common to put the wedding-ring into the posset, and, after serving it out, the unmarried person whose cup contains the ring will be the first of the company to be married.

In Ireland it is a popular belief that finding the ring in a piece of Michaelmas pie would ensure the maiden possessor an early marriage.

The following notice of an advertisement is extracted from an Oxford paper of 1860, and republished in ‘Notes and Queries’ (3rd series, vol. x. p. 19): ‘Important Notice!—The largest cake ever made in Oxford, weighing upward of 1,000 pounds, and containing 30 gold wedding and other rings, in value from 7s. 6d. to Two Guineas each! To be seen for sale at No. 1 Queen Street, Oxford, from Thursday, December 27th, until Saturday, January 5th, 1861, when it will be cut out at the low price of 1s. 2d. per pound (this quality frequently sold for wedding-cake). Persons at a distance desirous of purchasing may rely upon prompt attention being given to their favours.

‘N.B.—J. Boffin will feel obliged if persons obtaining the gold rings will favour him with their names.’

A wide-spread superstition or fancy prevails with regard to the use of a gold ring at weddings. Mr. Wood, in his ‘Wedding Day in all Ages and Countries,’ observes ‘that the Irish peasantry have a general impression that a marriage without the use of a gold ring is not legal. At a town in the south-east of Ireland, a person kept a few gold wedding-rings for hire, and when parties who were too poor to purchase a ring of the necessary precious metal were about to be married, they obtained the loan of one, and paid a small fee for the same, the ring being returned to the owner immediately after the ceremony. In some places it is common for the same ring to be used for many marriages, which ring remains in the custody of the priest.’

Mr. Jeaffreson says: ‘I have known labourers of the eastern counties of England express their faith in the mystic efficacy of the golden arrabo in language that in the seventeenth century would have stirred Puritan auditors to denounce the Satanic bauble and its worshippers with godly fervour.’

Pegge, in his ‘Curialia,’ alludes to the superstition that a wedding-ring of gold rubbed on a stye upon the eyelid was a sovereign remedy, but it required to be rubbed nine times.

Mr. W. R. S. Ralston, in his ‘Songs of the Russians,’ mentions some curious superstitions in connexion with rings in that country.

A custom exists in Russia of catching rain that falls during a thunderstorm in a basin, at the bottom of which rain has been placed. In the Riazan Government, water that has been dropped through a wedding-ring is supposed to have certain merits as a lotion; and at a Little-Russian marriage the bride is bound to give the bridegroom to drink from a cup of wine in which a ring has been put. From the mention of a ring made in the ‘Dodola Songs,’ and in others referring to storm and rain, it is supposed that a golden ring, in mythical language, is to be taken as a representation of the lightning’s heavenly gold.

In the olden time the celestial divinities were supposed to be protectors and favourers of marriage, and the first nuptial crown was attributed to that heavenly framer of all manner of implements who forged the first plough for man. And so, in some of the songs, a prayer is offered up to a mysterious smith, beseeching him to construct a golden nuptial crown, and out of the fragments of it to make a wedding-ring, and a pin with which to fasten the bridal veil.

There comes a Smith from the Forge, Glory!
The Smith carries three hammers, Glory!
Smith, Smith, forge me a crown, Glory!
Forge me a crown both golden and new, Glory!
Forge from the remnants a golden ring, Glory!
And from the chips a pin, Glory!
In that crown will I be wedded, Glory!
With that ring will I be betrothed, Glory!
With that pin will I fasten the nuptial kerchief, Glory!

When a lover leaves his mistress for a time, he gives her a golden ring (pérsten’, a signet-ring, or one set with gems—from perst, a finger) and receives from her a gold ring in exchange (Kol’ tsë, a plain circlet like our own wedding-ring, from Kolo, a circle).

It is not a falcon flying across the sky,
It is not a falcon scattering blue feathers,
But a brave youth galloping along the road,
Forth from his bright eyes pouring bitter tears.
He has parted from his own,
The Lower River track, through which,
In all her beauty, Mother Volga flows.
He has parted from the maiden fair,
And with her as a token left
A costly diamond ring;
And from her has he taken in exchange
A plighting ring of gold.
And while exchanging gifts thus has he spoken:
‘Forget me not, my dear one,
Forget me not, my loved companion.
Often, often gaze upon my ring;
Often, often will I kiss thy circlet,
Pressing it to my beating heart,
Remembering thee, my own.
If ever I think of another love,
The golden circlet will unclasp;
Shouldst thou to another suitor yield,
From the ring the diamond will fall.’

CHAPTER III.

SECULAR INVESTITURE BY THE RING.

The investiture of our English sovereigns per annulum, or by the ring, is an important part of our present coronation ceremonial. On this august occasion the master of the Jewel-House delivers the ring (which is of plain gold, with a large table ruby, on which the cross of St. George is engraved), to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who places it on the fourth finger of the sovereign’s right hand, saying: ‘Receive this ring, the ensign of kingly dignity and of defence of the catholic faith, that as you are this day consecrated head of the kingdom and people, so, rich in faith, and abounding in good works, you may reign with Him who is King of kings, to whom be glory and honour for ever and ever, Amen.’

Of the intrinsic value ascribed to the coronation ring we have an instance recorded in the life of James II. He was detained by the fishermen of Sheerness in his first attempt to escape from England in 1688; the particulars are related in his ‘Memoirs:’ ‘The King kept the diamond bodkin which he had of the queen’s, and the coronation ring, which, for more security, he put into his drawers. The captain, it appeared, was well acquainted with the dispositions of his crew one of whom cried out “It is Father Petre—I know him by his lantern jaws;” a second called him an old “hatchet-faced Jesuit;” and a third, “a cunning old rogue, he would warrant him!”; for, some time after he was gone, and, probably by his order, several seamen entered the King’s cabin, saying they must search him and the gentlemen, believing that they had not given up all their money. The King and his companions told them that they were at liberty to do so, thinking that their readiness would induce them not to persist; but they were mistaken; the sailors began their search with a roughness and rudeness which proved they were accustomed to the employment. At last one of them, feeling about the King’s knee, got hold of the diamond bodkin, and cried out, with the usual oath, he had found a prize; but the King boldly declared he was mistaken. He had, indeed, scissors, a tooth-pick case, and little keys in his pocket, and what was felt was undoubtedly one of these articles. The man still seemed incredulous, and rudely thrust his hand into the King’s pocket; but in his haste he lost hold of the diamond bodkin, and, finding the things the King mentioned, remained satisfied it was so; by this means the bodkin and ring were preserved.’

The ring is said to have been a favourite one of the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, and was sent by her, at her death, to James I., through whom it came into the possession of Charles I., and on his execution was transmitted by Bishop Juxon to his son. It afterwards came into the hands of George IV., with other relics belonging to Cardinal York.

This ring is mentioned in the ‘Inventory of the Goods and Chattels belonging to King James the Second,’ taken July 22, 1703: ‘one ruby ring, having a cross engraved on it, with which the late king was crowned,’ and is valued at 1,500l. In Leland’s ‘Collectanea,’ in describing the ceremonies made use of at the coronation of the mother of Henry VIII., it states that the archbishop ‘next blest her ring, and sprinkled on it holy water.’

In the coronation of the kings of France the ring was first blessed by the officiating archbishop, who, seated with the mitre on his head, placed it on the fourth finger of the right hand of the monarch, using a nearly similar form of benediction to that practised at the coronations of our own sovereigns.[44]

In the curious account of the coronation of Louis XIII. of France, preserved in a chronicle of his reign, it mentions: ‘The royal ring being blessed by the Cardinal de Joyeuse (who officiated for the Archbishop of Rheims), a symbol of love, whereby the King was wedded to his realm, he placed it on the fourth finger of His Majesty’s right hand, for a mark of the sovereign power.’

Kirchmann states that at the coronation of Ferdinand III. at Ratisbon, in 1616, a few years before he wrote, the Archbishop and Elector of Maintz, having received from the altar a very precious ring, placed it on the finger of the Emperor, with these words: ‘Accipe regiæ dignitatis annulum, et per hoc Catholicæ fidei cognosce signaculum, et ud hodie ordinaris caput et princeps regni et populi, ita perseverabilis auctor et stabilitor Christianitatis et Christianæ fidei fias, ut feliciter in opere cum Rege regum glorioris per eum, cui est honor et gloria, per infinita secula seculorum.—Amen.’

The typical meaning of the royal investiture by the ring is the union of the sovereign with his people, whom he is supposed to espouse at this solemnity, and in this sense some older writers have called it ‘the wedding ring of England.’

The ring worn by the queen-consorts of Great Britain at their coronation was of gold with a large table ruby set therein, and small rubies set round about the ring, of which those next the setting were the largest, the rest diminishing in proportion. Queen Mary Beatrice, consort of James the II., wore a ring of this description to her dying day, and nothing during her misfortune could ever induce her to part with it.[45]

That the ring was considered an indication of sovereign will from the earliest times, we have proofs, as I have mentioned, in the Holy Scriptures. So Alexander the Great, on his death-bed, on being asked to whom he would leave the kingdom, answered, to the most worthy, and gave his ring, when speechless, to Perdiccas. The Emperor Tiberius, on the point of death, took his ring from his finger, and held it a short time, as though intending to give it to some one, as his successor; he however, put it on again, and became insensible. Recovering at length, he found that his ring had been taken from him, and demanded it, upon which his attendants smothered him with the cushions.

The Emperor Valerian gave a ring with two precious stones to his successor Claudius. The knights of ancient Rome were permitted to wear, as the insignia of their rank, golden rings and collars. They were presented at the public expense with a horse and gold ring. Offa, king of the East Angles, is recorded to have appointed Edmund, the son of a kinsman, his successor, by sending him the ring which he received at his own coronation. The ‘pilgrim-ring’ of Edward the Confessor, to which I have alluded in the chapter on ‘Ring Superstitions,’ was in after times preserved with great care at his shrine in Westminster Abbey, and was used at the investiture of subsequent sovereigns.

The investiture of Prince Edmund, second son of King Henry III., as King of Sicily, which took place in 1255, was performed at London by the Bishop of Bononia, in the presence of the King, and a numerous assembly, by the symbol of a ring, which the Pope had sent for that purpose. Henry is said to have wept for joy, and sent the Pontiff immediately afterwards fifty thousand marks, but this event led to the association of the barons against the King and other great changes.

In 1469, Charles of France having renounced the possession of the duchy of Normandy, for which he received in exchange Guyenne, his ducal ring was sent by Louis XI. to the exchequer at Rouen, where it was broken in two pieces at a solemn assembly held for that purpose in the castle of Bouvreuil, in the presence of the Constable of France, Louis de Luxembourg.

A papal investiture, by a ring, of a sovereign of England is recorded by John of Salisbury, contemporary with Pope Adrian VIII., and who states that the Pontiff ceded and gave to Henry II. the island of Ireland, in hereditary succession, claiming, as his right to do so, the grant of Constantine by which all islands belonged to the See of Rome. The Pope sent a large gold ring, set with a fine emerald, as a mark of investiture, and which, together with the bull, were deposited in the archives at Winchester. Richard II. resigned the crown to Henry IV. by transferring to him his ring.

In subsequent ages, and within a few centuries of our time, we find the royal power displayed significantly in the ring, which, in the instance I mention, was truly a messenger of grace. Two Scotch burgesses in the stormy days of Queen Mary had been condemned to death, but were reprieved at the foot of the gallows by her Majesty. The messenger was sent in great haste by the Earl of Bothwell, ‘and presented the Queen’s ring to the provost’s inspection for the safety of their lives.’ This was considered a sufficient indication of the royal clemency, and ‘the revival’ (observes Knox, in his ‘History of the Reformation in Scotland’) ‘of an ancient custom practised by Scottish monarchs before the date of the earliest sign-manual on record, when everything in Church and State were represented in types and symbols.’

Another interesting incident in connection with Mary, Queen of Scots, is the ring with which she invested Darnley with the Dukedom of Albany. An engraving and description of this ring will be found in the chapter on ‘Remarkable Rings.’ The infant James, son of Mary, Queen of Scots, was, a few days after his baptism, invested with the ring and other insignia, as Prince of Scotland, Duke of Rothsay, Earl of Carrick and Cunningham, and Baron of Renfrew. The royal child sat in his mother’s lap while a gold ring was placed on his tiny finger.

Among the insignia connected with the investiture of the Princes of Wales is a ring. The earliest charter of creation known by Selden is that of Edward III. to his son and heir-apparent, Edward, Duke of Cornwall, some years after he was made Duke. This charter contains the particulars of the ceremony of investiture with the coronal, the ring of gold, and the rod of silver. In the letters patent issued by George I. (Sept. 22, 1714), declaring his son George Augustus, Duke of Brunswick Lunenburgh, ‘Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester,’ the investiture is thus described: ‘Likewise, we invest him, the said Prince, with the aforesaid principality and county, which he may continue to govern and protect; and we confirm him in the same by these ensigns of honour—the girding of a sword, the delivering of a cap and placing it on his head, with a ring on his finger, and a golden staff in his hand, according to custom, to be possessed by him and his heirs, Kings of Great Britain.’[46]

The practice now is that the Prince of Wales is invested with the Earldom of Chester by special patent, while he enjoys by a sort of hereditary prescription certain other titular distinctions. In the patent of creation of Albert Edward, Prince of Wales (dated Dec. 8th, 1841), the Queen, in the patent, states: ‘We do ennoble (our most dear son) and invest with the said principality and earldom, by girting him with a sword, by putting a coronet on his head, and a gold ring on his finger, and also by delivering a gold rod into his hand,’ &c.

According to French writers it was formerly a custom in that country to give a marquis, on his elevation to that dignity, a ring set with the ruby; a count received a diamond ring.

The royal signet-ring in Anglo-Saxon times served as an authority in law-suits about land. In the Cottonian MSS. (Aug. 2, p. 15), one charter states that ‘Wynfleth, to prove a gift of land by Alfrith, led witnesses to the King, who sent a writ to Leofwin, and desired that men should be summoned to the shire-gemot to try the case, and as an authority sent his signet-ring to this gemot by an abbot and greeted all the witan.’

The charters given by our early kings received the royal confirmation by the ring: thus Richard Cœur-de-Lion, in a charter relating to the exchange of Andeli, in Normandy, belonging to the clergy of Rouen, for other properties, much to the advantage of the ecclesiastics, passed his ring, in sign of investiture, in the silk threads suspended to the parchment. This ring was still attached to the charter in 1666, as appears in the ‘Histoires des Archévèsques de Rouen’ (p. 424), but has since disappeared. M. Achille Deville, in his ‘Histoire du Château-Gaillard,’ observes: ‘Il n’est pas de fois que j’aye touché la charte de ce monarque célèbre (et je l’ai eue souvent entre les mains), que la perte de ce précieux anneau ne m’ait causé de cuisants régrets’—a regret which all lovers of historic relics will fully share.

‘The ninth, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries,’ says Willemin, ‘offer rings attached to diplomas, but it is questionable whether they served to hold the place of the seal, or were simply marks of investiture; we know that anciently the purchaser and recipient of a gift were put into possession by a ring.’ Dugdale states that ‘Osbert de Camera, some time in the twelfth century, being visited with great sickness, granted unto the canons of St. Paul in pure alms for the health of his soul certain lands and houses lying near Haggelane, in the parish of St. Benedict, giving possession of them with his gold ring, wherein was set a ruby, appointing that the said gold ring, together with his seal, should for ever be fixed to the charter whereby he so disposed them.’ From the same source we are told that ‘William de Belmers gave certain lands to St. Paul’s Cathedral, and at the same time directed that his gold ring, set with a ruby, should, together with the seal, be affixed to the charter for ever.’

At a meeting of the Archæological Institute, in March 1850, Mr. W. Foulkes exhibited a gold signet-ring, preserved by the family of J. Jones, Esq., of Llanerchrwgog Hall, impressions of which are appended to deeds concerning that property from the middle of the thirteenth century. The impress is a monogram, meaning I and M (Iesus and Maria?), placed under a crown. It has been supposed to be the ring of Madoc, one of the last princes of Powis, and to have descended as a heir-loom, with lands granted by them to the ancestors of Mr. Jones.

A ruby ring is described as the ‘Charter of Poynings,’ in the will of Sir Michael de Poynings, in 1386. Poynings, in the neighbourhood of Brighton, was the seat of this ancient family from a period soon after the Conquest till the year 1446, when the barony, owing to the marriage of the heiress, merged into the earldom of Northumberland, and became extinct in 1679. Michael de Poynings, a banneret under Edward III. at the battle of Crecy, amongst other grants, left to his heir the ruby ring ‘which is the charter of my heritage of Poynings.’ This ruby ring of inheritance, the charter of the ‘Sires of Ponynges,’ came into possession of his son Thomas, and then to his second son Richard. According to tradition the famous Isabella de Fortibus, Countess of Devon, in the reign of Henry III., settled the boundaries of certain disputed parishes by flinging her ring into a marsh, hence called ‘Ring in the Mire.’

So late as the sixteenth century the conveyance of property by means of a ring may be remarked in the following passage or item in the will of Anne Barrett, of Bury, dated 1504, ‘My maryeng ryng wt. all thynggs thereon.’ It is worthy of note that among the numerous kinds of evidence allowed in courts of law to establish a pedigree, engravings on rings are admitted upon the presumption that a person would not wear a ring with an error upon it.[47]

John O’Molony, Bishop of Limerick in 1687, who, after the siege of that city, followed James II. to Paris, where he assisted in the foundation of a University for the education of Irish priests, left a gold ring at his death, which was to be sent to, and to denote, the head branch of the family. This conferred the privilege to have any of the name of Molony brought up as priests at the University, free of expense.

The custom of serjeants presenting rings on taking the coif, has formed the subject of some interesting notices in that valuable work ‘Notes and Queries.’ Mr. Serjeant Wynne in his observations touching the antiquity and dignity of serjeants-at-law (1765) remarks: ‘The first introduction of rings themselves on this occasion of making serjeants is as doubtful as that of mottoes. They are taken notice of by Fortescue in the time of Henry VI., and in the several regulations for general calls, in Henry VIII. and Queen Elizabeth’s time. Whatever is the antiquity of these rings, that of mottoes seems to fall short of them at least a century. That in the 19th and 20th Elizabeth (1576-77) may perhaps be the first, because till that time they are no more mentioned. When Dugdale speaks of the posies that were usual, he must be understood to speak of the usages of his own time.’ The motto which Serjeant Wynne notices as of the earliest occurrence in 19th and 20th Elizabeth was ‘Lex regis præsidium.’[48]

In the ‘Diary of a Resident in London’ (Henry Machyn, Camden Society) we find that on October 17, 1552, ‘was made vii serjants of the coyffe, who gayf to (the judges) and the old serjants, and men of the law, rynges of gold, every serjant gayf lyke rynges.’

In the inventory of the effects of Henry Howard, K.G., Earl of Northampton (1614), (Archæologia, vol. ii., part ii., page 350) we find ‘v serjeantis ringes waighinge one ounce, three quarters, four graines.’ These were presentations to him in his official capacity of Lord Privy Seal.

Serjeant Wynne brings his list of the serjeants called down to the year 1765, and gives, in most cases, the mottoes, which were not confined, it seems, to individuals, but adopted by the whole call. He remarks that in late years they have been strictly classical in their phrase, and often elegant in their application—whether in expressing the just idea of regal liberty—in a wish for the preservation of the family, or in a happy allusion to some public event, and, at the same time, a kind of prophetic declaration of its success. In the same work will be found an account of the expense and weight of the rings—that these matters were important appears from an extract in 1 Modern Reports, case 30: ‘Seventeen serjeants being made the 14th day of November (1669?), a daye or two after, Serjeant Powis, the junior of them all, coming to the King’s Bench Bar, Lord Chief Justice Kelynge told him ‘that he had something to say to him,’ viz., that the rings which he and the rest of the serjeants had given weighed but eighteen shillings apiece; whereas Fortescue, in his book “De Laudibus Legum Angliæ,” says “the rings given to the Chief Justices and to the Chief Baron ought to weigh twenty shillings apiece,” and that he spoke not this expecting a recompense, but that it might not be drawn into a precedent, and that the young gentlemen there might take notice of it.’

With regard to the cost of the serjeants’ rings, and the parties to whom they are presented, Mr. Mackenzie Walcott, M.A., writes in ‘Notes and Queries’ that on June 8, 1705, fifteen serjeants-at-law took the customary oaths at the Chancery Bar, and delivered to the Lord Keeper a ring for the Queen, and another to H.R.H. Prince George of Denmark, each ring being worth 6l. 13s. 4d. The Lord Keeper, and the Lord Treasurer, Lord Steward, Lord Privy Seal, Lord High Chamberlain, Master of the Household, Lord Chamberlain, and the two Chief Justices, each received a ring of the value of 18s.; the Lord Chief Baron, the Master of the Rolls, the Justices of either Bench, and two Chief Secretaries, each, one worth 16s.; the Chief Steward and Comptroller, each a ring valued at 1l.; the Marshal, Warden of the Fleet, every Serjeant-at-law, the Attorney-General and Solicitor-General, each a ring worth 12s.; the three Barons of Exchequer, one each of 10s.; the two Clerks of the Crown, the three Prothonotaries, the Clerks of the Warrants, the Prothonotary of Queen’s Bench, and the Chirographer, each a ring worth 5s.; each Filazer and Exigenter, the Clerk of the Council, and the Custom Brevium, each a ring that cost 2s. 6d. The motto on the rings was ‘Moribus, armis, legibus.’

On the admission of fourteen serjeants in 1737, 1,409 rings were given away, at a cost of 773l., and besides this number, others were made for each serjeant’s own account, to be given to friends at the bar, which came to more than all the rest of the expense.

There are some quaint old customs still adhering to the making of a serjeant. He is presented to the Lord Chancellor by some brother barrister (styled his ‘colt’), and he kneels while the Chancellor attaches to the top of his wig the little, round, black patch that now does duty for the ‘coif,’ which is the special badge of the Serjeant. The new Serjeant presents a massive gold ring to the Chancellor, another to his ‘colt,’ one to the Sovereign, and each of the Masters of the Court of Common Pleas. These rings used also to be given to all the Judges, but of late years the Judges have refused to receive them, thus diminishing a somewhat heavy tax.

It would be curious to know whether this custom is derived from the Romans. Juvenal alludes to the practice of lawyers exhibiting their rings when pleading:—

Ideo conducta Paulus agebat
Sardonyche et que ideo plurisquam Cossus agebat
Quam Basilus. Rara in tenui facundia panno.

The reader will find a list of mottoes, and much information on the subject of serjeants’ rings, in ‘Notes and Queries’ (1st Series, vol. v. pp. 110, 139, 181, 563; 2nd Series, vol. i. p. 249). The most recent instance (January 1872) of the presentation of a serjeant’s ring is that of Mr. J. R. Quain, who chose for his motto ‘Dare, facere, præstare.’

At the Loan Exhibition of Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum, in 1872, a serjeant’s gold ring, inscribed ✠ LEX X REGIS X PRÆSIDIUM, was shown—the property of Mr. John Evans—as the earliest known, the date being 1576-77. The small size of the ring would assume that it was merely complimentary.

Some barristers that Lord Brougham did not think much of, wishing to be made serjeants, he suggested that the most appropriate motto that could be found for their rings would be the old legal word ‘scilicet.’

Serjeants’ ring.

This illustration represents a serjeant’s ring, supposed to be of the seventeenth century—a plain band of gold, engraved with ‘Imperio regit unus æquo’ (Horace, lib. iii., Ode iv.).

In the collection of Mr. J. W. Singer is a very fine serjeant’s ring, which that gentleman attributes as of very early manufacture. It is a rare type of rings of this description, which have not been much noticed. The inscription reads: ‘Legis executo regis pservatio.’

In France, Italy, and Germany, a forensic order of knighthood was frequently conferred on the successful practitioner at the bar. Bartoli, the oracle of the law in the fourteenth century, asserted that at the end of the tenth year of successful professional exertion, the avocât belonging to the denomination of l’Ordre des Avocâts became ipso facto a knight.

When the distinction was applied for, the King commissioned some ancient Knight of the Forensic Order to admit the postulant into it. The avocât knelt before the Knight-commissary and said: ‘I pray you, my lord and protector, to dress me with the sword, belt, golden spurs, golden collar, golden ring, and all the other ornaments of a true knight. I will not use the advantages of knighthood for profane purposes; I will use them only for the purposes of religion, for the Church, and the holy Christian faith, in the warfare of the science to which I am devoted.’ The postulant then rose; and being fully equipped, and girded with the sword, he became, for all purposes, a member of the order of knighthood.

In the Memoirs of the Maréchal de Vieilleville, who died in 1571, such knights are mentioned as very common.

In 1795 the Order of Avocâts was suppressed, after 427 years of a brilliant existence.

Doctors, as indicative of their position, wore formerly a ring on the third finger of the right hand.

A ring formed part of the investiture of three poets-laureate by the Chancellor of the University of Strasburg in 1621, who at their installation pronounced these words: ‘I create you, being placed in a chair of state, crowned with laurel and ivy, and wearing a ring of gold, and the same do pronounce and constitute poets-laureate in the name of the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.’

Gower, in his ‘Confessio Amantis,’ mentions a statue of Apollo, adorned with a ring:—

Forth ryghte he straighte his finger oute,
Upon the which he had a ringe,
To seen it was a ryche thynge,
A fyne carbuncle for the nones,
Most precious of all stones.

In the early Saxon times, we read that Gumlaughr, the scald, presented to King Ethelred a heroic poem which he had composed on the royal virtues, and received in return ‘a purple tunic lined with the richest furs,’ also ‘a gold ring of the weight of seven ounces.’

In ancient Wales the Judge of the King’s palace had as ensign of his office a gold ring from the Queen. It was his duty at his own cost to reward the successful competitor in the musical contests of the bards with a silver chair as ‘Pen Cerdd’ (chief of song), and who in return presented him with a gold ring, a drinking-horn, and a cushion. The royal minstrel received on his appointment a harp from the King, and a ring from the queen.

‘Merchant Marks’ (to which I have alluded in the first chapter of this work) originated from the guild or mayor’s rings, which were used as personal signets, by such as were not entitled to bear arms. They were worn on the thumb for constant use in sealing. A fine ring of this kind is engraved in the ‘Journal of the Archæological Institute.’ It was found in the bed of the Severn, near Upton, and is, probably, a work of the fifteenth century; it is of silver and has been strongly gilt. The hoop is spirally grooved, and upon the circular face is a large H surrounded by branches.

In the custody of the Mayor of Winchester is a signet-ring with the arms of the city and initials E. W., probably Edward White, Mayor in 1613 and 1621.

In late times we have the ring adopted as a club badge by the famous Beef-Steak Club, of convivial notoriety. The members wore a blue coat, with red cape and cuffs, buttons with the initials B. S., and behind the President’s chair was placed the Society’s halbert, which, with the gridiron, was found among the rubbish after the Covent Garden fire in 1808.

Ring of Beef-Steak Club.

Ashmole, in his ‘History of the Most Noble Order of the Garter,’ mentions that gold rings have been cast into the figures of garters, ‘the ground on the outside enamelled with a deep blue, through which the golden letters of the motto appearing, set them off with an admirable beauty. And it seems such rings were in vogue, since the preface to the black book of the Order makes mention of wearing the garter on the leg and shoulder, and sometimes subjoins the thumb, interdum pollice gestare, by which we may naturally conclude that gold rings were formed into the fashion of garters, and bestowed by some new-installed knights upon their relations and friends to wear in memorial of so great an honour conferred upon them.’

In the collection of the Rev. W. B. Hawkins is a gold official ring of the Grand Master of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem (Malta), with bezel oval, glazed, with skeleton, hour-glass, and scythe, in enamel on a black ground; on the shoulders of the ring is a death’s head with cross-bones.

At the meeting of the Archæological Institute at Norwich in July 1847, a ring formed like a strap or garter, buckled, was exhibited, bearing the inscription ‘Mater Dei memento mei,’ found at Necton, date about 1450. Rings of this fashion were in use from the close of the fourteenth century, shortly after the institution of the Order of the Garter. Other specimens are to be seen in the British Museum, and in the collection of the Archæological Institute.

A cap and a ring are conferred with the degree of Doctor of Civil Laws in Belgium.

In the ‘Biographia Britannica’ (Article ‘Crichton’) we read of the bestowal of a ring on a college disputant. This was in the case of the ‘Admirable Crichton,’ who, when he was only twenty years of age, entered the academic lists with anyone who would compete with him in Hebrew, Syriac, Arabic, Greek, Latin, Spanish, French, Italian, English, Dutch, Flemish, and Sclavonian, besides every kind of courtly accomplishment. This he maintained in the College of Navarre, and the president, after many compliments on his vast acquirements, gave him a diamond ring and a purse of money.

At the ceremonies observed on the inauguration of a king-at-arms the crown and ring were generally bestowed by the hand of the monarch himself, as in the case of Sir David Lindsay, Lord Lion, King-at-arms:

Whom royal James himself had crowned,
And on his temples placed the round
Of Scotland’s ancient diadem;
And wet his brow with hallow’d wine,
And on his finger given to shine
The emblematic gem.

Among the insignia of the Knights of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem is a ring bearing the Cross.

In the ‘Dublin Penny Journal’ we read of the signet-ring of the famous Turlough Lynnoch, which was found at Charlemont, in the county of Armagh. It bears the bloody hand of the O’Neils, and initials T. O. The signet part of the ring is circular, and the whole of it is silver. James the First made this bloody hand the distinguishing badge of a new order of baronets, and they were created to aid, by service or money for forces, in subduing the O’Neils.

In 1780 a large gold ring, supposed to have belonged to one of the knights hospitallers of Winckbourne, some of whom are believed to have been buried at Southwell, was found by the sexton of Southwell church while digging a grave. It is six-eighths of an inch in diameter, and three-eighths of an inch in breadth. The following motto is deeply cut on the inside: ‘+ MIEV + MORI + QVE + CHANGE + MA + FOI +’ (better to die than change my faith).

I have already mentioned how, from the earliest times, the ring was considered to denote peculiar distinction, and was the emblem of nobility; and so, amidst many divergences, it still continued to a later period to be considered as a badge of honourable birth. Thus Rabelais alludes to the rings that Gargantua wore because his father desired him ‘to renew that ancient mark of nobility.’ On the forefinger of his left hand he had a gold ring set with a large carbuncle, and on the middle finger one of mixed metal, then usually made by alchemists. On the middle finger of the right hand he had ‘a ring made spire-wise, wherein was set a perfect balew ruby, a pointed diamond, and a Physon emerald of inestimable value.’

The French expression une bague au doigt means a sinecure—pay without the work.

In former times the victor in a wrestling match received a ram and a ring. In the Coke’s ‘Tale of Gamelyn,’ ascribed to Chaucer, we read:—

There happed to be there beside
Tryed a wrestling;
And therefore there was y setten,
A ram and als a ring.

And in the ‘Litil Geste of Robin Hood’:—

By a bridge was a wrestling,
And there tayred was he;
And there was all the best yemen
Of all the west countrey.
A full fayre game there was set up,
A white bull up yspight,
A great courser with saddle and brydle,
With gold burnished full bryght;
A payre of gloves, a red golde ringe,
A pipe of wine, good fay;
What man bereth him best, I wis,
The prize shall bear away.

So Sir Walter Scott, in the ‘Lady of the Lake’:—

Prize of the wrestling-match, the King
To Douglas gave a golden ring.

In the ‘Gulistan,’ or rose-garden of Sadi, is a pretty story in connection with a prize-ring for shooting. A certain King of Persia had a very precious stone in a ring. One day he went out with some of his favourite courtiers, to amuse himself, to the mosque near Shiraz, called Musalla; and commanded that they should suspend the ring over the dome of Azad, saying that the ring should be the property of him who could send an arrow through it. It so befell that four hundred archers, who plied their bows in his service, shot at the ring, and all missed. A stripling at play was shooting arrows at random from a monastery, when the morning breeze carried his shaft through the circle of the ring. The prize was bestowed upon him, and he was loaded with gifts beyond calculation. The boy, after this, burned his bow and arrows. They asked him why he did so; he replied: ‘That my first glory may remain unchanged.’

At the tournaments held in the reign of Henry VII. (1494) a proclamation was put forth ‘that hoo soo ever justith best in the justys roiall schall have a ryng of gold, with a ruby of the value of a m^l scuttes or under; and hoo soo ever torneyeth the best, and fairyst accumplishit his strokkis schall have a ryng of gold, with a diamant of like value.’

On November 9 (1494) John Peche received from the Ladie Margerete ‘the kyngis oldeste doughter, a ryng of gold with a ruby.’

On the 11th, the Earl of Suffolk, Thomas Brandon, received as a reward for his prowess in the lists ‘a ryng of gold with a rubee.’

On the third tournament (November 13) Sir Edward A. Borough, as victor, received ‘a ryng of gold with a dyamant.’

The Earl of Essex, for his valour in this tournament, received ‘a ryng of gold with an emerauld.’

CHAPTER IV.

RINGS IN CONNECTION WITH ECCLESIASTICAL USAGES.

The ring has, for many ages, formed a part of ecclesiastical insignia. It appears to have had a twofold purpose and signification, the one as a mark of dignity and authority, the other symbolic of the mystical union between the priesthood and the Church.

To commence with the head of the Romish hierarchy: that distinguished authority on antiquarian topics, Mr. Octavius Morgan, M.A., F.R.S., F.S.A., &c., has contributed to the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xl. p. 392) a very interesting account of ‘Episcopal and other Rings of Investiture;’ and, since the publication of that paper, has kindly informed me that Mr. Waterton states, from his own knowledge, that the ‘Fisherman’s Ring’ is the Pope’s ring of investiture, and is placed on his finger immediately after his election, before it is engraved. But if, as it sometimes happens, the Pope-elect is not a bishop, he is consecrated prior to his coronation as Supreme Pontiff, and receives the ring with the usual formula, except that the consecrating cardinal kisses his hand after investing him with the ring. ‘There is a ring which the Pontiff wears on state occasions—the stone of which is an exquisitely fine cameo, cut in bloodstone, of the head of Our Saviour—which is known to be more than three hundred years old, and is, probably, a fine cinque-cento gem. This descends from one Pope to another.

‘What is called the Annulus Piscatoris, or the “Fisherman’s Ring,” is the Pope’s lesser seal, or signet, used for documents of minor consequence, and the impression is usually made on red wax or stamped on the paper; the Bulla being what may be termed the great seal, employed for giving validity to instruments of greater importance, and the impression of it is always on lead. The origin of the Fisherman’s Ring is obscure, but it derives its name from a representation of St. Peter in a fisherman’s boat of ancient form, which is engraved on it, and not from any tradition that it ever belonged to St. Peter, as, from its English name, is not uncommonly supposed. The Germans call it Der Fischer-ring, which is “the Fisherman Ring,” whereas we, probably in our translation of Annulus Piscatoris, have termed it the “Fisherman’s Ring,” seeming to imply thereby that it had once belonged to “the Fisherman.” The figure of St. Peter forms the centre.’

The Fisherman’s Ring.

After the reign of Pope Calixtus the Third, the Ring of the Fisherman was no longer used as the private seal of the Popes, but was always attached to briefs.

On the death of Innocent the Tenth the name was cut out of the ring or erased. At the decease of Pius the Sixth the usual ceremonies were not observed, and the ring was not broken, as was the practice at the elevation of each pontiff. Aimon, in his ‘Tableau de la Cour de Rome,’ says that after the Pope’s death ‘le Cardinal Camerlingue vient en habit violet, accompagné des clercs de la chambre en habits noirs, reconnoître le corps du Pape. Il l’appelle trois fois par son nom de baptême, et comme il ne lui donne ni réponse, ni signe de vie, il fait dresser un acte sur sa mort par les Protonotaires Apostoliques. Il prend du Maître de la Chambre Apostolique, l’anneau du Pêcheur, qui est le sceau du Pape, d’or massif, et du prix de cent écus. Il le fait mettre en pièces et donne ces pièces aux Maîtres des Cérémonies à qui elles appartiennent. Le Dataire et les Sécrétaires qui ont les autres sceaux du Pape défunt, sont obligés de les porter au Cardinal Camerlingue, qui les fait rompre en présence de l’Auditeur de la Chambre du Trésorier, et des Clercs Apostoliques, et il n’est permis à aucun autre des Cardinaux d’assister à cette fonction.’

When it was decided by the French in 1798 that the Pope was to be removed to France, on February 18 in that year the Republican Haller, son of the celebrated Swiss physician of that name, chose the moment when the Pontiff was at dinner in the Vatican to announce to him the resolution of the French Republic. He entered the apartment rudely, and, advancing to the Pope, announced the object of his visit, and demanded the instant surrender of the Papal treasures.

‘We have already given up all we possessed,’ replied the Pope calmly.

‘Not all,’ returned Haller, ‘you still wear two very rich rings; let me have them.’

The Pope drew one from his finger: ‘I can give you,’ he said, ‘this one, for it is indeed my own; take it: but the other is the Ring of the Fisherman, and must descend to my successor.’

‘It will pass first to me, holy father,’ exclaimed Haller, ‘and if you do not surrender it quietly it will be taken from you by force.’

To escape further insult the Fisherman’s Ring was given up, but as it was found to be intrinsically of no value it was soon afterwards restored to the Pontiff.

The ring of Pius the Ninth is of plain gold, weighing one and a half ounces, and it was made from the gold which composed the Ring of the Fisherman of Pope Gregory the Sixteenth.[49]

The Fisherman’s Ring is always in the custody of the Grand Papal Chamberlain. It is taken to the Conclave, or Council of the Cardinals, with the space left blank for the name; and as soon as a successful scrutiny of votes for a new Pope has taken place, the newly-elected Pontiff is declared, and conducted to the throne of St. Peter, where, before the cardinals have rendered homage to their chief, the Grand Chamberlain approaches, and, placing the Papal ring on the finger of the new Pope, asks him what name he will take. On the reply of the Pontiff, the ring is given to the first Master of the Ceremonies to have the name engraved on it that has been assumed. The announcement of the pontifical election is then made to the people from the balcony of the Papal palace.

Kissing the Pope’s ring as an act of reverent homage is a custom which has descended to our own times. One of the important ceremonies at the opening of the great Œcumenical Council at Rome (December 8, 1869) was that every single primate, patriarch, bishop, and mitred abbot, who were present on this solemn occasion at St. Peter’s, and who were to take part in the Council, paused before Pius the Ninth, and, in an attitude of profound reverence, kissed his ring. As high dignitaries they were exempted from kissing the Pope’s toe, a condescension reserved for the laity and lower clergy.

In Bishop Bale’s ‘Image of Both Churches’ occurs a curious passage on the subject of episcopal rings: ‘Neyther regarde they to knele any more doune, and to kisse their pontifical ryngs, which are of the same metall’ (i.e. fine gold).

It would seem that the Popes were formerly buried in their pontifical habits and ornaments. In the ‘Journal’ of Burcard, Master of the Ceremonies in the Pope’s chapel from Sixtus the Fourth to Julius the Second, he mentions as having, by virtue of his office, thus clothed the body of Sixtus the Fourth, and amongst other things a sapphire ring of the value of three hundred ducats was placed on his finger, and so little trust was placed in the honesty of those who came to see the body that guards were placed to prevent the ring and other ornaments from being stolen.[50]

In 1482 Cardinal d’Estouteville, Archbishop of Rouen, was buried with great magnificence at Rome, where he died. The body of the prelate was arrayed in the richest robes of cloth of gold, and his fingers were covered with rings of the greatest rarity and beauty. The brilliancy of the jewels (observes Dom Pommeraye in his ‘Lives of the Archbishops of Rouen’) excited the cupidity of the canons of St. Mary Major at Rome, where he was interred, insomuch that they threw themselves on the body, and struggled with each other to get at the rings. The monks of St. Augustine, who also attended on this occasion, pretended to be highly scandalized at this profanation—‘peut-être,’ however, ‘pour avoir part au butin’—and attempted on their part to seize the rings. In this unclerical skirmish the body of the archbishop was entirely stripped of its gorgeous trappings, and left naked, a piteous spectacle.

Matthew Paris informs us that archbishops, bishops, and abbots, with other principals of the clergy, were buried in their pontificalibus; thus ‘they prepared the body of Hubert, Archbishop of Canterbury, for the burial, closing him in his robes, with his face uncovered, and a mitre put on his head, with gloves upon his hands, a ring on his finger, and all the other ornaments belonging to his office.’

In describing the finger-ring found in the grave of the Venerable Bede, the writer of a brief account of Durham Cathedral adds: ‘No priest during the reign of Catholicity was buried or enshrined without his ring.’ The practice may have prevailed generally, as many instances of rings recovered from the graves of ecclesiastics show, but it was more particularly the usage of prelates. Martene (‘De Antiquis Ecclesiæ Ritibus’) remarks: ‘Episcopus debet habere annulum, quia sponsus est. Cæteri sacerdotes non, quia sponsi non sunt, sed amici sponsi, vel vicarii.’

The bones of St. Dunstan were discovered in the time of William, fortieth abbot of Glastonbury: a ring was on the finger-bone of this saint.

William, the twenty-second abbot of St. Alban’s Abbey, who died in 1235, was buried in pontifical habits ‘with a ring on his finger.’

Richard de Gerbery, forty-fifth Bishop of Amiens, in the thirteenth century, died in 1210, and was buried in the cathedral, in pontificalibus, with mitre, ring, and ivory cross.

When the body of St. John of Beverley (died 721) was translated into a new shrine, about the year 1037, a ring, among other articles, was found in his coffin. We have a much earlier instance cited by Aringhi, that the ring of St Caius (283-296) was found in his tomb: ‘intra sepulchrum tria Diocletiani Imperatoris numismata, sub quo coronatus fuerat, et Sanctissimi Pontificis annulus adinventatus est.’

A gold ring was found in the tomb of St. Birinus, Bishop of Dorchester, who died in 640.

Mr. E. Waterton mentions a remarkable ring, set with fine opal, preserved at Mayence Cathedral, where it was found with an enamelled crosier in the tomb, as was supposed, of Archbishop Sigfroi III. (1249).

Ring of Thierry, Bishop of Verdun.

In the Londesborough Collection is the ring of Thierry, Bishop of Verdun (who died in 1165), found in his tomb in 1829. It is of gold, with a sapphire, an irregular oval with five capsular marks on the face; the shank, two winged dragons, between the heads of which is the inscription AVE MARIA GRATIA. This ring was procured in exchange from the collection of M. Failly, Inspector of Customs, at Lyons in 1848.

Mr. Octavius Morgan remarks: ‘It is difficult to reconcile the practice of returning the ring to the Emperor’ (to which I have in this chapter alluded) ‘with that of interring the bishop with his ring on his finger; but it is probable that, when in the twelfth century the Emperor ceded to the Popes the right of investiture by the ring the sending back the ring was dispensed with; and, being the property of the Church, and not of the Emperor, the bishop was allowed to be interred with his ring as an emblem of his dignity.’

The Rev. C. W. King remarks that the custom of burying ecclesiastics with all their official insignia appears to have lasted far down into the Middle Ages; for, amongst the amusing adventures of Andreuccio da Perugia, related by Boccaccio, he, when reduced to despair, joins some thieves in plundering the tomb of the Archbishop of Naples, interred the previous day in all his precious vestments, and with a ring on his finger valued at five hundred scudi. Two parties of plunderers, headed by a priest of the cathedral, visit the tomb in succession, and almost at the same time; to which circumstance Andreuccio owes his escape from a horrible death, and returns home in possession of the ring, which more than makes up for all his losses.

The Rev. C. W. King considers it probable that this common practice of plundering the tombs, gave origin to the huge rings of gilt metal, which bear the titles, or coats of arms, of some pope or bishop.

On the subject of pontifical rings of an ordinary character, I may observe that they are found in several collections, usually of brass or copper gilt.

Benvenuto Cellini, in his ‘Memoirs,’ mentions a magnificent diamond as having been presented to Pope Paul the Third by the Emperor Charles the Fifth on his entry into Rome (1536), for which he was desired to make a ring, and succeeded in giving the diamond a tint which surpassed anything yet done.

Ring of Pope Pius II.

In the collection of Thomas Windus, Esq., F.S.A., is a ring bearing the arms of Pope Pius II. of the family of Piccolomini, the Papal tiara, and inscription, ‘Papa Pio.’ The ring is of brass, thickly gilt; the stone topaz: on the sides are the four beasts of the ‘Revelation.’

In the Braybrooke Collection is the ring of Pope Boniface, from whose tomb it was taken during the popular insurrection at Rome, 1849. It is large and of gilt bronze, set with a large amethyst, cut into facets. It is of the usual type of Papal rings, and massive; on one side of the broad shank is engraved the triple crown, with bands for tying it, extending until they are met by the cords attached to the keys, which appear on the other side. The sides of the box-setting are square for an inch below the stone, and on them are the emblems of the four Evangelists in high relief: all these are winged.

In the Waterton Collection at the South Kensington Museum are some remarkably fine specimens of bronze-gilt Papal rings of the fifteenth century, very massive and in excellent condition. Most of these have the symbols of the four Evangelists, the triple crown, and crossed keys.

At a meeting of the Society of Antiquaries in November, 1858, Octavius Morgan, Esq., F.R.S., F.S.A., exhibited a Papal ring of great interest, massive, and of copper-gilt, set with blue glass. At the angles were the symbols of the four Evangelists in relief; on the hoop was inscribed PAVLVS PP SECNDVS (Paulus Papa Secundus). At the sides were two shields; one of them bearing three fleurs-de-lys, and ensigned with an open crown, probably the arms of France; the other charged with a lion debruised by a bend, being the arms of the family of Barbo of Venice, to which Paul II. belonged. In the upper part of this shield was a small Papal tiara, which might have been placed there for want of room above, or might have been adopted by the Pope’s relation, Marco Barbo, made by him a cardinal in 1464, and who died 1490.

Mr. Morgan had received this interesting addition to his collection from Venice.

Papal Rings (Gorlæus).

In the Londesborough Collection is a fine specimen of a Papal ring. The crossed keys surmount a coat of arms on one side of the ring; the keys alone appear on the opposite side; foliated ornament fills the space above the circlet on either side. This ring is set with a large crystal.

Papal Ring.

At the suppression of the monasteries there were found in Worcester Cathedral ‘four pontifical rings of gold, with precious stones’ At the same period, amongst the plate and jewels in Winchester Cathedral was a ‘pontyfycall ryng of silvare and gilt, with counterfeitt stones.’ At St. Augustine’s Church at Canterbury were three pontifical rings with precious stones, and one of silver gilt; at St. Swithin’s Church at Winchester, four pontifical rings with precious stones.

The earliest document with a certain date in which mention is made of a bishop’s ring is that usually cited in the 28th canon of the Council of Toledo, held in 633. The ring was of gold and jewelled, but at this Council it was ordained that the ring of a prelate reinstated in his diocese, after an unjust deposition, should be delivered to him, which was merely confirming a ceremony already ancient in the confirmation of bishops, which may be traced to the fourth century.

In the consecration of bishops in the Anglo-Saxon Church, the hands and head were anointed with oil, the crosier delivered into his hands, and the ring placed on his finger; each ceremony being accompanied with a prayer. ‘There is, however,’ remarks Mr. Octavius Morgan (‘Archæologia,’ vol. xxxvi. part ii. p. 373), ‘another authority, at least contemporary with the Toledo Council, if not of earlier date. St. Isidor, Bishop of Seville, who died A.D. 636, in his work ‘De Ecclesiasticis Officines’ (lib. ii. cap. 5), when writing on the episcopal dignity, informs us that the staff and ring were given to the bishop on his consecration, and mentions the twofold purpose and signification of the ring, but does not tell us from what source these insignia were derived.’[51]

That the episcopal ring, from the earliest times, was considered a symbol of sacerdotal authority, we have many instances. In the ‘Continuation of the History of Simeon of Durham’ we are told that Bishop Ralph (1099) having been inveigled into a boat and his life in danger, he drew the ring which he wore from off his finger, and his notary took his seal, and they cast them into the river, being apprehensive that, as these were well known everywhere throughout England, the enemy would prepare deceitful writs by their means.

The same bishop, a month before his decease in 1128, directed that he should be carried into the church, opposite the altar, there to make confession of his sins. Placing a ring upon the altar he thereby restored to the church everything of which he had deprived it, and this restitution he confirmed by charter and seal, which are still preserved in the treasury of the Dean and Chapter of Durham. To the charter was also attached the episcopal gold ring (which is no longer there). The charter states that ‘he has surrendered to the Lord St. Cuthbert and his monks whatsoever he had taken from them after he came to the bishopric,’ &c., ‘restoring them by (placing) a ring upon the altar,’ &c.

Thomas à Becket, when at Rome in 1166, during his quarrel with Henry II., solemnly resigned, in the presence of the Papal Court, his episcopal ring into the hands of Pope Alexander, whom he exhorted to name a fitting successor.

In the History of the Archbishops of Canterbury, by Gervase, we read that in 1179, Godfrey, Bishop-elect of St. Asaph’s, resigned his bishopric by surrendering his ring.

An ancient custom in the Archbishopric of Rouen was that the body of the deceased prelate, before being interred in the cathedral, was carried to the church of St. Ouen (at Rouen), where it remained exposed a whole day. The dean of the cathedral, in committing the body to the charge of the Abbot of St. Ouen, said ‘Ecce,’ to which the latter replied ‘Est hic.’ Then the dean gave the Archbishop’s ring to the abbot, at the same time placing his hand in the coffin of the defunct, and saying: ‘You gave it to him living; behold he is dead,’ alluding to the custom of the Archbishops of Rouen being consecrated in the church of St. Ouen.

Mr. Waterton remarks ‘that in 511, the Council of Orleans makes mention of the rescript of Clodovicus, wherein he promises to leave certain captives at the disposition of the Gallican bishops, “si vestras epistolas de annulo vestro signatas sic ad nos dirigatis.”’ The same eminent antiquarian states that ‘prior to the eleventh century, many, if not all, of the episcopal rings were signets; for before that time large official seals were not in general use. Each bishop seems to have chosen the subject to be engraved on his ring, at pleasure. St. Augustine, in one of his letters, mentions that he sealed it with his ring, “qui exprimit faciem hominis attendentis in latus.” In writing to Apollinaris, Bishop of Valence, Clodovicus begs him to send the seal, or signet (signatorum), which he had promised, made in such a way “ut annulo ferreo et admodum tenui, velut concurrentibus in se delphinulis concludendo, sigili duplicis forma geminis cardinalis inseratur.” And, referring to the subject to be engraved on the bezel, he adds, “si quæras quid insculpendum sigillo, signo monogrammatis mei per gyram scripti nominis legatur indicio.”’

In the early days of Christianity bishops sealed with their rings the profession of faith which the neophytes made in writing. They also sealed their pastoral letters. Ebregislaus, Bishop of Meaux, in 660, wore on his ring an intaglio, representing St. Paul, the first hermit, on his knees before the crucifix, and above his head, a crow, by which he was miraculously fed.

In conformity with a decree of St. Sergius I. (687-701), the bishops of France and Spain used to seal up the baptismal fonts with their rings from the beginning of Lent to Holy Saturday.

From ancient documents it would appear that bishops sometimes called their rings ‘annuli ecclesiæ.’ David, Bishop of Benevento, in the time of Charlemagne, issued a mandate, ending as follows: ‘annulo sanctæ nostræ ecclesiæ firmavivus roborandum.’ In 862, Rathbodus, Bishop of Treves, writes thus: ‘Hanc epistolam Græcis litteris, hinc, inde, munire decrevimus, et annulo ecclesiæ nostræ bullare censuimus.’ In 985 Pope John XVI. sealed with his ring the confirmation of the decree made by the Council of Mayence, in favour of the monks of Corvey, in Saxony.

These quotations are sufficient to prove that until the 11th century the bishops used their rings as signets; but we must not infer that every episcopal ring was a signet. It is probable that each bishop had a large jewelled ring to use when pontificating.

Of the importance attached to the possession of the episcopal ring we are told that Gundulf, the good Bishop of Rochester, in his last days distributed all his goods to the poor, even to his shoes, and bequeathed his rich vestments to the cathedral. There was only one ornament with which he could not part, that was the episcopal ring, and he confided this to the care of his attendants, intending, probably, that it should be delivered to his successor. Ralph, who had lately been elected Abbot of Battle, had formerly been Prior of Rochester, and had been deservedly popular. The monks were anxious that he should be the successor of Gundulf, and were prepared to elect him, if they could obtain the consent of the archbishop. If to the Abbot of Battle Gundulf bequeathed or resigned the episcopal ring, it might be produced as an indication of Gundulf’s wish that Ralph, of Battle Abbey, should succeed him. A suggestion to this effect was made to the old bishop, who said curtly: ‘He is a monk, what has he to do with an episcopal ring?’ He was, probably, offended at the ambition of the ex-prior of Rochester, who ought to have been contented with his newly-acquired dignity at Battle Abbey. Soon after this, another Ralph made his appearance at the priory, Ralph of Seez, who afterwards became Archbishop of Canterbury. Having been ejected from his monastery by violence, he came to England, and was received everywhere with hearty regard, on account of his virtues and accomplishments. Hearing of Gundulf’s illness, he hastened to Rochester, to console his old friend on the bed of sickness. Ralph was obliged to leave Rochester after a short visit, but on quitting his friend he was recalled, and Gundulf, demanding of his attendant the episcopal ring, placed it as a parting gift in the hand of Ralph of Seez, who suggested it might be better disposed of to one of Gundulf’s episcopal friends, since it did not pertain to an abbot to wear a ring. He reminded the bishop that, though not living a monk, still a monk he was. ‘Take it, nevertheless,’ said the bishop, ‘you may want it some day.’

The possession of this ring reconciled the monks to the appointment of Ralph of Seez as successor of Gundulf to the bishopric of Rochester, as they regarded the donation in the light of a prophecy.

‘Before,’ says Mr. Waterton, ‘receiving the pastoral staff and mitre, the bishop-elect is invested by the consecrating bishop with the pontifical ring. The formula seems to have varied at different times, the most ancient one, contained in the Sacramental of St. Gregory, 590, is this: “Accipe annulum discretionis et honoris, fidei signum, et quæ signanda sunt signes, et quæ aperienda sunt prodas, quæ liganda sunt liges, quæ solvenda sunt solvas, atque credentibus per fidem baptismatis, lapsis autem sed pœnitentibus per mysterium reconciliationis januas regni cœlestis aperias; cunctis vero de thesauro dominico ad æternam salutem hominibus, consolatus gratiâ Domini nostri Jesu Christi.”

‘Another form, of a later date, has the above, with the following addition:—“Memor sponsionis et desponsationis ecclesiasticæ et dilectionis Domini Dei tui, in die quâ assecutus es hunc honorem, cave ne obliviscaris illius.”

‘The ancient Ordo Romanus contains a formula couched in more elegant words: “Accipe annulum pontificalis honoris, ut sis fidei integritate ante omnia munitus, misericordiæ operibus insistens, infirmis compatiens, benevolentibus congaudens, aliena damna propria deputans, de alienis gaudiis tanquam de propriis exultans.”

‘The formula,’ continues Mr. E. Waterton, ‘seems to have varied at different times; that contained in the pontifical of Ecgberht, Archbishop of York, is as follows: “Accipe annulum pontificalis honoris ut sis fidei integritate munitus.” The Anglo-Saxon pontifical at Rouen, and that of St. Dunstan at Paris, both give the following: “Accipe ergo annulum discretionis et honoris, fidei signum, et quæ signanda sunt signes, et quæ aperienda sunt prodas.”’

In the eleventh and twelfth centuries the ring, as a part of ecclesiastical investiture, was a fruitful subject of discord between the Emperors and the Popes, until 1123, the Emperor Henry the Fifth, alarmed by the threats of the Pontiff, ceded the right to Calixtus II., from which time the rings were sent to the bishops-elect from the Pope—a practice continued in the Roman Catholic hierarchy to the present time. In preceding ages, however, monarchs were not so yielding. In the romance of ‘King Athelstan,’ the sovereign says to an offending archbishop:—

Lay down thy cross and thy staff,
The myter and the ryng that I to thee gaff,
Out of my land thou flee.

Cardinals on their creation receive a ring in which is usually a sapphire. Wolsey was raised to this dignity in 1515, the Pope having forwarded with the hat (an unusual thing to be sent out of Rome) a ring of more than ordinary value.

Cardinals wear their rings at all times, but on Good Friday they lay them aside, as a sign of the mourning in which the Church is placed for her Spouse. At the recent installation of cardinals (September 1875) the venerable Pontiff presented each dignitary with a gold ring set with a sapphire.

In 1191 the fashion of the episcopal ring was definitively settled by Innocent III., who ordained that it should be of gold, solid, and set with a precious stone, on which nothing was to be cut; previous to this, bishops’ rings were not restricted to any special material or design. ‘In the thirteenth century,’ remarks Mr. E. Waterton, ‘many of the episcopal rings were of very rude fashion, frequently in almost literal conformity with the rescript of Innocent III., without regard to shape or elegance. The stone was set just as it was found, merely having the surface polished, and the shape of the bezel was adapted to the gem. There are proofs that cameos were worn in episcopal rings. In the list of rings and precious stones collected by Henry III. for the shrine of St. Edward, in Westminster Abbey, there is enumerated: “j chamah in uno annulo pontificali.” We know that during the Middle Ages the glyptic art had declined very much, and that from their fancied assimilation antique gems were occasionally used for devout subjects. Thus the monks of Durham converted an antique intaglio of Jupiter Tonans into the ‘caput Sancti Oswaldi.’

During the latter part of the thirteenth century the large episcopal rings were enriched by the addition of previous stones, which were set around the principal one. Thus, in the ‘Wardrobe Book’ there is the following entry: ‘Annulus auri cum quatuor rubettis magnis qui fuit Fratris J. de Peccham, nuper Cantuariensis Archiepiscopi. He died in 1292.’

Episcopal rings were usually set with sapphires, probably from a popular belief that this precious stone had the power of cooling love; owing, perhaps, to the coldness of its touch, due to its density. The Rev. C. W. King, however, gives as a reason for the choice of the sapphire that, besides its supposed sympathy with the heavens, mentioned by Solinus, and its connexion with the god of day, Apollo, the violet colour agrees with the vestments appropriated to the priestly office.

An episcopal ring, with gold and a sapphire, said to have belonged to St. Loup, is in the treasury of the Cathedral of Sens, and is, probably, of the Carlovingian period.

Episcopal ring.

‘Mention occurs,’ remarks Mr. E. Waterton, ‘of episcopal rings being set with the balass-ruby, the emerald, the topaz, the turquoise, the chalcedony, and, as accessories, pearls and garnets. Sometimes these gems were of great value.’ The Rev. C. W. King thinks it probable that when mediæval rings occur, set with a ruby instead of a sapphire, they belong to bishops who were at the same time cardinals. At the disgraceful seizure of Archbishop Cranmer’s effects, in 1553, we find mentioned, among the articles of considerable value taken from his house at Battersea: ‘six or seven rings of fine gold, with stones in them, whereof were three fine blue sapphires of the best; an emerald, very fine; a good turquoise and a diamond.’

At the degradation of a bishop in former times, the reasons were given in a solemn assembly, and judgment pronounced, the mitre was removed from his head, and the pontifical ring drawn off his finger, as having outraged the Church.

With regard to the finger on which the episcopal ring is worn, a correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. v., first series, p. 114), remarks that ‘all who wear rings, ex officio, wear them on the third finger of the right hand. Cardinals, bishops, abbots, doctors, &c., do this for the reason that it is the first vacant finger. The thumb and the first two fingers have always been reserved as symbols of the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity. When a bishop gives his blessing he blesses with the thumb and two first fingers. Our brasses, with sepulchral slabs, bear witness to this fact.’

A French writer observes that formerly the episcopal ring was worn on the fore-finger, but as, for the celebration of the holy mysteries, bishops were obliged to place it on the fourth finger, the custom prevailed of carrying it thus.

Mr. E. Waterton gives his explanation thus, and there could be no better authority: ‘It appears that bishops formerly wore their rings on the index of their right hand, being the middle one of the three fingers which they extend when they are giving their blessing, but when celebrating mass they passed the ring on to the annular. They wore it on the index as the fore-finger was indicative of silence, that they ought to communicate the divine mysteries only to the worthy. Gregory IV., in 827, ordered that the episcopal ring should not be worn on the left, but on the right hand, as it was more distinguished (nobile) and was the hand with which the blessing was imparted.’[52]

Episcopal Thumb-ring.

The episcopal ring is now always worn on the annular finger of the right hand, and bishops never wear more than one. In the pictures of the early Italian masters, however, and on sepulchral effigies, bishops are represented with many rings, some of which are not unfrequently on the second joint of the fingers. A thumb-ring is often seen; one is represented (p. 219) belonging to a late Dean of St. Patrick’s, the sketch of which was made by the late Mr. Fairholt, when it was in the possession of Mr. Huxtable, F.S.A., in 1847. It is of bronze, thickly gilt, and set with a crystal. In Raffaelle’s portrait of Julius II. the Pope is represented as wearing six rings. Certain it is, as late as the year 1516, the Popes occasionally wore two or more rings.

As the large pontifical ring was of a size sufficient to enable the bishop to pass it over the silk glove which he wears when pontificating, a smaller, or guard ring, was used to keep it on the finger.

In the Waterton Collection is a very pale gold episcopal ring, with oblong hexagonal bezel, set with a pale cabochon sapphire, and the hoop divided into square compartments chased with rosettes, and finished on the shoulders with monsters’ heads. French, of the early part of the fifteenth century.

In the Anglo-Saxon annals, an archbishop bequeaths a ring in his will, and a king sends a golden ring, enriched with a precious stone, as a present to a bishop. So great was the extravagance among the clergy for these ornaments that Elfric, in his ‘canons,’ found it necessary to exhort the ecclesiastics ‘not to be proud with their rings.’ In the mediæval romances we are told that at the marriage of Sir Degrevant, there came

Erchebyschopbz with ryng
Mo than fiftene.

In the effigy of Bishop Oldham (died 1519), in Exeter Cathedral, the uplifted hands of the recumbent figure, which are pressed together, are adorned with no less than seven large rings on the fingers, three being on the right, and four on the left hand. In addition to these, a single signet-ring of extraordinary size is represented as worn over both the thumbs.

But the number of these rings is exceeded by far in the case of the arm of St. Blaize, exhibited in the Cathedral of Brunswick, on the fingers of which are no less than fourteen rings. This relic was brought from Palestine by Henry the Lion in the eleventh century, and is encased in silver.

In a miniature in the ‘Heures d’Anne de Bretagne’ (1500), representing St. Nicholas and the miracle of the three children, the bishop is represented with one hand extended in the act of blessing, with a large ring over two fingers. A ring is on one of the fingers of the other hand. In paintings of the early bishops of the Church they are figured with gloves having the ruby on the back of the hand, and the official ring on the fore-finger of the right hand sometimes, but not always, introduced.

Dart, in his ‘History of Canterbury,’ gives an inventory of the Ornamenta Ecclesiastica taken in 1315. One of the annuli pontificales was of elaborate character, and is thus described: ‘Annulus quadratus magnus cum smaragdine oblongo, et quatuor pramis, et quatuor garnettis.’ The others had sapphires surrounded by smaller gems. One of these rings was set ‘cum sapphiro nigro in quatuor cramponibus ex omne parte discoperto.’

In the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. ii., 1854) is an interesting account by the late Mr. Albert Way, of the ecclesiastical mortuary or corse-present: ‘Whether this was originally a composition for offerings omitted, or in the nature of a payment for sepulture, frequently consisted, amongst other things of a ring. Thus in the archdeaconry of Chester, on the death of every priest, his best signet, or ring, with various other objects belonging to the bishop as being the archdeacon.’

The King, in like manner, on the death of every archbishop and bishop, was entitled to a gold ring with other things. On the death of some abbots the King claimed the like. These rights existed in the reign of Edward I. and probably earlier. In the province of Canterbury the second-best ring of the bishop accompanied the seals, which, there is reason to think, were given up to their metropolitans. In 1310, on the death of Robert Orford, Bishop of Ely, his pontifical ring not having been delivered up in due course, a mandate was issued by Archbishop Winchelsey, directed to Richard de Oteringham, then administering the spiritualities of the vacant see, to obtain possession of the ring, which appeared to have been kept back by two of the monks of Ely. The mandate recites all the circumstances which had occurred, describing the ring as ‘annulum qui pontificalis vulgariter appellatur, qui de jure et consuetudine nostre ecclesie Cantuariensis ad nos dignoscitur pertinere.’ It was alleged by the monks of Ely that the deceased prelate had made a gift of this ring in his lifetime to the Prior and Convent, but that, having no other pontifical ring, he had retained it for his own use until his death. The Prior and Convent then had possession of the ring, which they forthwith caused to be affixed to the shrine of St. Ealburga. The two monks incurred the penalty of excommunication; the Archbishop forthwith cited the Prior and Convent to appear before him, and there can be little doubt that the ring was ultimately delivered up. The details of this curious transaction are related in Archbishop Winchelsey’s Register, and may be seen in Wilkins’s ‘Concilia,’ vol. ii. p. 403.

In regard to two of the sees in Wales, St. Asaph and Bangor, the claim extended to the palfry with bridle and saddle, the capa pluvialis, or riding-cloak, and the hat used by the deceased prelate. The seals and best ring were likewise demanded, as in the case of the other bishops of the Principality, and of the province of Canterbury in general. On the decease of Anian, Bishop of Bangor, in 1327, the metropolitan see being at that time vacant, the Prior of Christ Church claimed the ring, seals, and other effects, which had not been rendered up to him in due course. The following entry appears on this occasion: ‘De annulo et sigilis Episcopi Bangorensis restituendis.—Magister Kenewricus Canonicus Assavensis, officialis noster sede Bangorensi vacante, habet literam de annulo secundo meliori et omnibus sigillis bone memorie domini Aniani Episcopi Bangorensis, ac etiam de aliis bonis nobis et ecclesie nostre Cantuarien de jure et consuetudine antiqua et approbata debitis post mortem cujuslibet Episcopi Bangorensis, que de Magistro Madoco Archidiacono Angles’ executore testimenti dicti domini Aniani recepit, nobis absque more majoris dispendio apud Cantuariam transmittendis necnon de omnibus aliis bonis que ad manus suas sede Bangorensi vacante vel plena devenerunt; et ad certificandum nos infra xx dies post recepcionem presentium quod super premissis duxerit faciendis. Dated at Canterbury, July 15, 1328.’

These instructions from the Prior to his official seem to have produced no effect. A letter is found subsequently in the same register (K. 12, f. 158, v^o), addressed from Mayfield by Simon Mepham, Archbishop of Canterbury, to Henry Gower, Bishop of St. David’s, stating the demand of the Prior had not been satisfied, and requiring him to obtain restitution of the seals and ring which had belonged to the deceased prelate. The matter appears accordingly to have been adjusted without delay, since a formal acquittance is found in the same volume, dated at Canterbury, February 3, 1328.

A similar occurrence is recorded in the register on the decease of David Martyn, Bishop of St. David’s, March 9, 1328. His executors had delivered the seals and ring to Master Edmund de Mepham, who had departed this life; and a letter is found from Henry de Eastry, Prior of Christ Church, to Robert Leveye, Edmund’s executor, requesting him to render up these objects to which the Prior was entitled.

The Wardrobe Books and other records would doubtless show that the rights of the Crown were constantly enforced on the decease of archbishops and bishops with no less jealous vigilance than those of the Church of Canterbury. In the Wardrobe Book of 28th Edward I., for instance, amongst various articles mention is made of the gold ring of William de Hothum, Archbishop of Dublin, who died in 1298, set with a sapphire, as also of many silver ciphi and gold rings set with various gems, delivered to the King on the decease of several other prelates at that period. In the same record are to be found the gold rings of the abbots of Glastonbury, St. Alban’s, and Abingdon, lately deceased, in custody of the King’s wardrobe.

It is deserving of remark that at an earlier period no claim, as regarded the pontifical ring, appears to have been acknowledged by the Bishops of Rochester.

Mr. Edmund Waterton, in the ‘Archæological Journal’ (vol. xx. pp. 235 et seq.), gives a list of a few of the authentic episcopal rings now in existence in England.

The ring of Seffrid, Bishop of Winchester, who died in 1151. This is most curious, for it is set with a gnostic gem, representing the figure with the head of a cock. It is a strange subject for the ring of a bishop.

A massive gold ring set with a sapphire, found in a tomb on the thumb of the skeleton of a bishop, supposed to be Hilary, Bishop of Chichester, who died in 1169, together with a silver chalice, and paten, and a pastoral staff.

A gold ring with an octagonal sapphire, set à griffes, and with four small emeralds in the corners. This was found in a stone coffin on which was inscribed EPISCOPUS, and which also contained some remains of vestments, and a pastoral staff.

These three rings belong to the Dean and Chapter of Chichester.

Gold ring set with a ruby, and found in York Minster in the tomb of Archbishop Sewall, who died 1258.

A gold ring, also set with a ruby, found in the tomb of Archbishop Greenfield, who died 1315.

A gold ring, the stone of which has fallen out and which bears on the inside the chançon ‘×honnor×et×joye×,’ found in the tomb of Archbishop Bowett, who died in 1423.

The three last rings are preserved in York Minster.

A large gold ring set with an irregular oval sapphire secured by four grips in the form of fleurs-de-lys. The stone is pierced longitudinally. This was found in Winchester Cathedral, and may be assigned to the thirteenth century.