Michael Peters and Miss Katherine Harrower, both of New York City. The
gems with which they are set were bought by the Rev. Dr. John P. Peters
from an Arab, in the Kut-el-Amara region, where the British invaders
of Mesopotamia underwent such a disastrous defeat. They are engraved
carnelians. Miss Peters’ ring offers the design of a winged figure. The
excellence of the cutting might seem to indicate that it was done some
time between 500 B.C. and the beginning of our era, but a later date
has been assigned to it by Prof. A. V. Williams Jackson of Columbia
University, who pronounces it to be a Sassanian gem, and hence not
older than the third Christian century. The other ring, that belonging
to Miss Harrower, appears to be of the Seleucidan period, and may be
dated from 300 to 200 B.C. The inscription, difficult to decipher,
should be read “Khan” in Prof. Jackson’s opinion.
One of the most intrinsically valuable of ancient signets is that
engraved for Constantius II (317–361 A.D.). This is of sapphire, the
stone weighing 53 of the older carats (54.40 metric carats). The
design shows the emperor in the act of spearing an enormous wild boar
on the plains of Cæsarea, the Greek inscription _xiphius_ denoting
the sword-like tusks of the animal. The exploit is performed before
a reclining female figure, a personification of the city Cæsarea of
Cappadocia. A Latin inscription ~CONSTANTIUS. AUG~ is considered to
prove that this is veritably the emperor’s signet. This remarkable gem
is in the collection of Prince Trivulzio of Milan.[275]
A novel idea finds expression in the ring of President Wilson, on
which he has had engraved his name in stenographic symbols. This is
in thorough agreement with his aim to utilize business methods in the
administration of national affairs, to do away with routine and take
the most direct route to the solution of national problems. One of our
two ex-Presidents, William H. Taft, sent us this reply: “I never wear
a finger ring and never have done so. For that reason, I cannot comply
with your request.”[276]
IV
SOME INTERESTING RINGS OF HISTORY
The principal types of the rings used as insignia, religious or
secular, or as signets, as well as of those devoted to some special
purpose or believed to possess talismanic or magic virtue are treated
of in other chapters. There are many rings, however, which owe their
chief or only interest to their association with some particular
historic personage, event or period, while often the mere fact that the
ornament has been owned by a famous person suffices to make it precious
and interesting; in a number of cases the ring itself has been closely
connected with some important historic happening or else with some
cherished legend. Examples of this are the ring of Essex in Elizabeth’s
time, and the legendary ring of Edward the Confessor, regarding the
stone setting of which several discrepant accounts exist.
The Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris has in its Cabinet des Médailles,
two massive gold rings, in each of which the _chaton_ is formed
by an ancient coin. In one is set a rare gold quinarius of Maximinus
(235–238 A.D.) with his effigy, and the ring is believed to
have been made during this giant emperor’s brief reign; the other bears
a golden solidus probably of Clotaire II, King of the Franks, who
reigned from 584 to 628 A.D. This coin shows a figure of the
king with the name Chlotarius Rex, and the mint-mark of the city of
Arras. The coin is more than ¾ inch in diameter.[277]
In a Frankish sepulchre at Laubenheim, near Bingen, Hessen-Darmstadt,
was found a gold ring on the bezel of which is engraved the head
of a woman, turned to the right, around which are the letters of
the Gothic name Hunila. A princess of this name was married, about
280 A.D., to Quintus Bonosius, one of the Thirty Tyrants
who established themselves in the Roman Empire during the short and
troubled reign of Probus (280–281). While the ring we describe cannot
be assigned to such an early period, but probably belongs to the end
of the sixth or the beginning of the seventh century of our era, the
intrinsic value and the workmanship, superior for the place and time,
render it likely that this Hunila, also, was of royal race and station.
In the sepulchre which yielded this ring there was a chain of amber and
amethyst beads.[278]
The Persian poet-philosopher, Saadi, relates in his Gulistan, or
“Garden of Roses,” a story illustrating how a happy chance may do more
to help the attainment of a temporary success than special ability
or training. A Persian sovereign, passionately devoted to archery,
determined to make a crucial test of the skill of his most famous
archers, and to stimulate their efforts by the bestowal of a rich
prize. To this end he caused a ring set with an immensely valuable
precious stone to be suspended above the dome of Azad on the mosque
near Shiraz, and proclaimed to all men that this ring would be given to
the one who succeeded in shooting an arrow through its hoop. Despite
the apparent impossibility of the task, several hundred of the Shah’s
archers strove to fulfil the conditions of the trial, but in vain.
Suddenly the Shah and his companions, who were closely watching the
contest, saw, to their amazement, an arrow speed through the air and
exactly traverse the ring. None of the archers before the mosque had
been shooting at the moment, and only after a careful search had been
made did it come out that the arrow had been shot off by a youth at
play in a nearby garden of a monastery. Nevertheless, the royal word
had been pledged, and the ring was adjudged to the youth. The latter,
however, showed his wisdom by breaking his bow and arrows, and never
trying another shot, thus keeping unsullied his reputation as a great
archer.[279]
One of the Latin treatises of Petrarch tells of a carbuncle or ruby,
worn set in a ring by John II of France, and believed to possess
talismanic power. The poet remarks, however, that this stone did not
preserve the King from being defeated and made prisoner at the battle
of Poitiers in 1356. This ruby was taken by the English, but was
returned to John several years later, so that he was able again “to see
an object of infinite value, but of no use whatever.” While admitting
the beauty of gems, Petrarch did not share the belief common in his day
that they possessed occult powers.[280] Of the diamond he says that,
while in ancient times it was a gem worn only by kings, in his own day
luxury and pride had increased to such an extent that many who were not
kings possessed the stone, and even some of the common people wore it
on their fingers.[281]
A ring called the “Friday Ring” is listed among the jewels of Charles
V of France (1337–1380), in the inventory made in 1379. This had on
either side a double black cross in niello work, and was set with a
cameo bearing a crucifix and the figures of the Virgin Mary, St. John
and two angels. The name was derived from the fact that the king wore
this ring every Friday, doubtless in memory of the Crucifixion, which
took place on that day.[282] There is also mention of another ring,
set with a large ruby, “the form of a halfbean. This is the ruby which
belonged to St. Louis (1215–1270), and which has always been guarded
successively by the kings of France.”[283] There seems to be some
likelihood that this was the highly prized ruby lost by King John
II about 1357, and in this case it must have been restored to the
French treasury. Still another ring was set with a large ruby, called
the “ruby de la Caille,” which had formerly belonged to the dukes of
Brittany and had been given to King Charles by Monseigneur d’Anjou. A
note to this inventory informs us that the term “ruby d’Alexandrie,” so
often met with in old French lists of jewels, denotes a ruby bought in
Alexandria, where many of the finest precious stones from the East were
dealt in during medieval times.[284]
The battlefield of Agincourt, in the department of Pas-de-Calais, not
far removed from the trenches of the Anglo-French army in the great war
of to-day, was visited in 1815 by General Sir John Woodford, who was
serving with the Grenadier Guards. Hoping to unearth a few relics of
the famous battle he had some excavations made, and his efforts were
rewarded by the discovery of several knightly rings inscribed with
mottoes or posies. About 1850 one of these rings, which had probably
been worn by a French noble, was shown at a meeting of the London
Archæological Institute. The battle of Agincourt, where the French army
was decisively defeated by Henry V of England, was fought October 25,
1415, on the day of Sts. Crispin and Crispian, and inspired Shakespeare
with the following proud lines addressed by the English king to his
soldiers:
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered.
Hungary’s great hero, John Hunyady (1387?-1456), had in his coat of
arms a raven holding a ring in its beak. The legendary explanation
of this is that King Sigismund once gave a ring to his mistress,
the hero’s mother, as a passport for entrance to the court. One day
the royal parent wished to see his offspring, and the child’s uncle
received orders to bring it to the court. On his way thither, while
traversing a piece of woodland, the man came to a clearing and sat down
on the grass to repose himself, giving the precious ring, his token
to the king, to the child as a plaything. Suddenly a raven swooped
down from a tree, picked up the ring and flew away with it; but the
man caught up a bow he had with him and sped a shaft after the bird,
which fell dead to the ground with the ring still tightly held in its
beak. When, in later years, the illegitimate child grew up and finally
ascended the throne of Hungary, this event was figured on his coat of
arms by the emblems of the raven and the ring.[285]
When the Constable Louis of Luxembourg was condemned to death in
1475, in the reign of Louis XI of France, he drew from his finger a
small gold ring set with a diamond and requested the father confessor
to offer it to the image of Our Lady of Paris. Then, turning to the
Franciscan monk, Jean de Sordun, he said: “Here is a stone I have long
worn on my neck and which I have greatly prized, for it resists poison,
and also protects against pestilence. I pray you to take this stone
for me to my son, to whom you will say that I beg him to keep it for
love of me.” This touching mission was never fulfilled, for after the
execution of the Constable, the court ordered that the stone should
be given to King Louis. The diamond ring, however, was duly dedicated
to the image of the Virgin.[286] Of Louis XI himself, the chronicler
quaintly says: “Before his death he suffered much from various diseases
for the cure of which the physicians who attended him concocted
dreadful and wonderful medicines. May these illnesses procure the
salvation of his soul!”[287]
Some interesting historic rings are in the fine collection of Dr.
Albert Figdor, Vienna. One of them is a gold ring believed to have
belonged to Mary of Burgundy, (d. 1482) daughter of Charles the Bold,
and wife of Maximilian I of Germany. On the ring is the letter M formed
of black diamonds, and the monogram of the name Maria, in Gothic
characters, appears twice on its inner side. Two enameled gold rings of
Empress Eleonora, third wife of Ferdinand III of Germany (1608–1657),
are good examples of seventeenth century work. More interesting is
a ring bearing miniature portraits of Emperor Mathias of Germany
(1557–1619) and his wife Empress Anne.[288]
The first historical instance of writing with a diamond point concerns
Francis I, who wrote, with the diamond of his ring, upon a pane of
glass in the Castle of Chambord, the following oft-quoted lines:
Souvent femme varie,
Mal habile qui s’y fie.
The king “engraved” these lines in such a conspicuous place that they
might be seen by his favorite, Anne de Pisseleu, Duchesse d’Estampes,
and make it clear to her that his jealousy was aroused by her
conduct.[289] The story runs that the celebrated sister of Francis,
Marguerite de Valois, authoress of the Heptameron, who was on very
friendly terms with the Duchesse d’Estampes, immediately capped this
distich by writing with her diamond-point the following rejoinder:[290]
Souvent homme varie,
Bien folle qui s’y fie.
Brantôme, who relates that he saw the window-pane inscription of
Francis I at Chambord, merely cites the first words: “Souvent femme
varie,” and as there is considerable lack of agreement as to the second
line, this may have been added by those who reported the writing,
according to their own idea of what a continuation should be. There
is a rather vague rumor that the glass was broken out by order of Louis
XIV, the fact being that it is no longer in existence and evidently
disappeared at least a couple of centuries ago.[291]
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF A LADY, PAINTED IN COLOGNE, ABOUT 1526.
Ring set with a pointed diamond on index of right hand, small ring
on little finger of the same hand; two rings on index of left hand
and one on fourth finger of the same hand; all set with precious
stones
Königliche Gemälde-Galerie, Cassel]
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF A MAN, BY HANS FUNK, PAINTED IN 1523
Large seal ring on right hand forefinger and two on left hand, one on
forefinger and one on fourth finger
Gallery at Basel, Switzerland]
A ring set with a pyramidal diamond, one of the type used by Francis I
on this occasion, is shown in the Londesborough Collection. This ring,
which dates from the sixteenth century and is of Italian workmanship,
is known as a “tower ring,” possibly because those confined in the
Tower of London were able to use such rings for writing names or verses
upon the windowpanes of their prison.[292]
Still another story of diamond-point writing, probably even less well
attested than the anecdote of Francis I, is that referring to Queen
Elizabeth and Sir Walter Raleigh.[293] On the occasion of an interview
with the wily queen, Sir Walter, rather distrustful of the royal
encouragement accorded him, is said to have gone to a window in the
royal audience chamber and written on the window-pane with his diamond
ring:
Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall.
For answer the queen scratched beneath this the following admonition,
at once an encouragement and a warning:
If thy heart fail thee, do not climb at all.
An eighteenth century instance of diamond-point writing on a pane of
glass was reported in an old newspaper.[294] A celebrated English
beauty of the eighteenth century, while sojourning at the famous
English watering-place, Bath, wrote on a window-pane the following
impromptu lines:
In vain, in vain is all you’ve said,
For I’m resolved to die a Maid.
In answer to this a gentleman of her acquaintance cut this rejoinder,
the idea being better than the rhyme:
The Lady who this resolution took,
Wrote it on Glass to show it might be broke.
The visitor who relates this states that on returning to Bath at a
later time, he found that the window-pane had been removed, and a new
one substituted. Did this mean that the vow had been broken?
[Illustration:
MEDAL SHOWING RING, STRUCK IN 1578 FOR JOHN CASIMIR, COUNT
PALATINE, TO COMMEMORATE HIS ALLIANCE WITH THE DUKE OF ANJOU
AGAINST THE SPANISH IN THE LOW COUNTRIES
The clasped hands signify indissoluble friendship; the palm and olive
branches, victory and peace; and the diamond, courage]
[Illustration:
MEDAL SHOWING RING, STRUCK FOR HENRI II OF FRANCE, IN 1554, IN
COMMEMORATION OF HIS CAMPAIGN TO FLANDERS
The diamond is a symbol of dauntless courage; the crowned fish probably
denotes the ruler of Flanders; the palm branch and olive branch above
signify the French King’s victory]
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF DIANE DE POITIERS (1499–1566)
Mistress of Henri II of France, who gave her the splendid Château
de Chenonceaux. She had great artistic taste and possessed many
jewels. To her ability, knowledge and power were due some of the
finest architectural and mobiliary achievements of the period.
Musée de Versailles]
The use of rings set with natural diamond-points in a symbolical sense,
as in the case of the three interlaced rings forming the _impresa_
of Cosimo de’ Medici, probably had to do with the ancient tradition
that the diamond conferred courage or even invincibility upon the
wearer. It is in this sense that this type of ring is figured on
the reverse of certain “campaign medals” issued in commemoration of
important expeditions. Such is the medal struck for Henri II of France
when, in 1554, he set out from Champagne to invade Flanders. On the
reverse of this medal there is within the ring a palm branch and an
olive branch, significant of an unconquerable soul and of victory.
Across the bottom of the hoop is a fish of a species very common in
Flanders, on the head of which is a crown, this apparently denoting the
ruler of that land. The diamond emphasizes the idea of an unbroken
and unconquered soul. In a similar though slightly different sense must
be explained the diamond-set ring on a “campaign medal” struck in 1578
for John Casimir, Count Palatine; this is also a memorial of one of the
periodical incursions into unhappy Flanders. As the Count Palatine was
at this time in alliance with the then Duke of Anjou, brother of Henri
III of France, the hoop of the ring terminates in two clasped hands,
denoting the fast friendship of the allies, which was, however, of very
uncertain duration.
The rich Arundel Collection, chiefly brought together by a Lord Howard
of Arundel, towards the end of the seventeenth century, incorporated
in the Marlborough Cabinet and later dispersed, included a beautifully
adorned gold ring set with a splendid lapis lazuli on which a Roman
engraver had cut the design of Hercules wrestling with Antæus. The
hoop of this ring is ornamented on the inside with two fleur-de-lys in
white enamel, the entire ring being covered with arabesques of entwined
vine branches in black enamel. In his description, Rev. C. W. King
conjectures from the style of ornamentation that the ring may have
belonged to one of the Valois kings of France.[295]
On the accession of Frederick the Great, he is said to have found
in the royal treasury a case containing a ring, accompanied by a
memorandum to the following effect, in the handwriting of King
Frederick I (1688–1740): “This ring was given to me by my father on
his death-bed, with the reminder that so long as it was preserved in
the House of Brandenburg, this would not only prosper, but would grow
and increase.” The way in which Frederick the Great spoke of this
ring illustrates at once his habitual scepticism and his devotion to
family tradition, for while declaring that he put no faith in the
peculiar virtues of such an object, he gave strict injunctions that it
should be carefully preserved. A rather doubtful tradition designates
this ring as the one said to have been surreptitiously removed from
the hand of Frederick William I, when he was dying, by the Countess
Lichtenau. The dying king feebly protesting against this spoliation,
murmured: “Her den Ring” (Give back the ring), but the countess saved
the situation by saying to those assembled in the deathchamber: “He
wants to have a herring!” This same tradition attributes the subsequent
disastrous defeat of Prussia by Napoleon I to the loss of the ring,
which the countess finally yielded to Frederick William III in 1813,
whereupon the fortunes of war changed and Prussia was avenged for her
humiliations.
Hofrath Schneider, for a long time reader to Emperor William I, relates
that when he questioned that monarch touching the story of the ring, he
only learned that it had been a long time in the Hohenzollern family;
that it was an old-fashioned ring, and that it was set with “a plain,
dark-colored stone.” Emperor William did not display much interest in
the matter and did not appear to have any superstitious reverence for
the ring.[296]
An old Portuguese ring has a half-sphere of rock crystal set in silver.
At the side of the bezel is a minute catch, and when this is put back,
the crystal setting, hinged on the opposite side, can be raised,
revealing beneath a tiny St. Andrews cross in gold, with a small ruby
set in the centre. This ring is in the possession of an Englishman, a
descendant of the Duke of Peterborough who fought in the Peninsula War
under Wellington. In one of the battles he was seriously wounded, and
was kindly and carefully nursed by a Portuguese family. A not unnatural
result was that he fell in love with one of the daughters and married
her. The ring is said to have formed part of her ancestral jewels, and
this may be regarded as a characteristic example of the Portuguese art
of the past in ring-making.[297]
A gold ring, said to be one of six made for distribution among the
conspirators who planned Napoleon’s escape from Elba in March, 1815,
is to be seen in the British Museum. The bezel has a hinged lid, on
the inner side of which is engraved in relief the head of Napoleon; on
the outer side is an enamelled design showing three flowers on stems,
a laurel wreath running around the edge.[298] Whether the story of
its having belonged to one of the conspirators be true or not, the
concealment of the Napoleon head shows that this ring was made for, and
worn by, an adherent of the fallen emperor, at a time when it would
have been dangerous to proclaim his loyalty openly.
ENGLISH RINGS
In the British Museum are two Anglo-Saxon rings of unrivalled historic
interest. They bear, respectively, the names of Ethelwulf, father of
Alfred the Great and of Ethelswith, his sister, the queen of Mercia.
Both of these rings are of gold. In that of King Ethelwulf the flat
hoop rises in front in the form of a high mitre-shaped bezel showing
the design of a conventional tree flanked by two peacocks; the
ground-work is of niello. The nielloed legend around the hoop reads:
~ETHELWVLF . REX~. This ring was found in a cart-rut at Laverstock,
Wiltshire, in the summer of 1780. The ring of Ethelwulf’s daughter,
Ethelswith, has a circular bezel with the figure of the Lamb of
God; here also the design is chased on a niello ground. On each
shoulder of the ring is figured a monster on a similar ground-work.
The inscription, engraved inside the ring runs: ~EADELZVID. REGINA~.
Ethelswith’s ring was found in the West Riding of Yorkshire, between
Aberford and Sherburn, and was tied to a dog’s collar by the farmer
who discovered it. For this ignoble use it served during some six
months until, to his surprise, the farmer learned that his ring was of
gold.[299]
The famous ring known as that of Edward the Confessor (1024–1066),[300]
and which was to be used as the Coronation Ring of the Kings of
England, was granted on November 14, 1389, by King Richard II, to
the Abbot, etc., of Westminster, for the shrine of the Confessor in
this church. It is described as “a certain ring with a precious ruby
inserted therein.” The King reserved the privilege of wearing it when
he was in England, but should he go abroad it was to be returned to
the shrine. A few years later the Abbot of Westminster appears to have
been guilty of some negligence in sending this ring to the sovereign
when the latter required it for use, and the repentant abbot craves
pardon of the king and prays that his fault shall not invalidate the
church’s rights to the possession of the relic. Nearly eighty years
later, a record dated December 21, 1468 (7 Edward IV) registers the
delivery by the former keeper, Thomas Arundell, of the vestments,
cloths, relics and jewels of the Shrine of St. Edward in Westminster to
his successor, Richard Tedyngton.[301]
The jewels and precious stones of this shrine were taken away and
pawned by Henry III in 1267, the monarch having entered into a solemn
engagement, under the Great Seal, to return them in a year’s time
from the ensuing Michaelmas. Henry also sent to the then Abbot of
Westminster a “Letter Obligatory” promising the restitution of the gems
and submitting himself in the matter to the judgment of the Pope and
the Papal Legate. The precious jewels were really restored to the Abbey
shortly afterwards, as is shown by a document dated February 10, 1269
(53 Henry III). The ruby ring, being a later gift, could not have been
among them.[302]