“Have here of me a gold ring
With a precyous stone;
Where-soe you bee on water or Land
And this ring upon your hand
Nothing may you slone.”[511]
Sometimes the virtues of the ring are conceived in a poetic spirit and
are associated intimately with the giver, as we find in the romance
of Ywaine and Gawin. Here the stone set in the ring given by Ywaine
protects the wearer from imprisonment, illness, loss of blood, and
danger in battle, but the lady tells her lover that this virtue exists
in the ring “while you it have and think on me,” that is, only so long
as his love endures.[512]
That the magic virtues of the images and talismans were liable to wane
and pass away, was taught by Albertus Magnus, who likened these powers
to those of animate objects which were also transitory. When the period
fixed by heaven had come to an end, the power of the image would be
broken and it would be useless, cold and dead. This, in his opinion,
accounted for the fact that many talismanic figures failed to display
any efficacy, although they had done so in ancient times.[513]
In the “Book of Thetel,” as quoted by Konrad von Megenberg,[514] one of
the engraved gems is described as follows:
A man seated upon a footstool, crowned, and stretching forth
his hands to the heavens. Beneath him are four men appearing to
support the stool. Take mastic and terebinth (turpentine) and put
them under the stone in a silver finger-ring, having twelve times
the weight of the stone in the ring. If this be placed beneath the
head of a sleeping person, he dreams of what he longed for when
awake.
The curious statement that the metal ring was to weigh twelve times as
much as the stone, seems to indicate an influence of the superstition
in regard to the number twelve.
The Londesborough Collection contains a ring which represents a toad
swallowing a serpent. This was evidently used as an amulet and the
design seems to have some connection with the curious superstition
that a serpent, to become a dragon, must swallow a serpent. A Greek
proverb, found in Suidas (ab. the tenth century A.D.), is
aptly rendered by Dryden (Edipus, Act III, sc. 1) as follows:
A serpent ne’er becomes a flying dragon till he has eat a serpent.
Hence this ring combined the curative or talismanic powers attributed
to the toad, the serpent and the dragon.[515]
The ring of St. Mark, said to have been long preserved in the treasury
of St. Mark’s cathedral at Venice, was believed to have been acquired
in a miraculous way. In the time of Henry III (1216–1272) the body of
the saint, which had been taken to the cathedral, was suddenly missed
and no trace of it could be found. Resort was then had to prayers and
supplications, and these appear to have been answered, for one day the
sacristan, while traversing the nave, saw an arm emerge from one of the
pillars. He hastened to report this wonderful thing to the Doge and the
cathedral clergy, who on reaching the building became witnesses of the
miracle. As they were kneeling reverently before the column the hand of
the apparition opened and let fall a ring, which was picked up by the
Bishop of Olivolo. At the same instant, hand and arm disappeared, and
the column opened, revealing in its interior an iron casket in which
were the lost remains of St. Mark.
Not many years later this ring served to give proof of an appearance of
the saint. One February day a fearful storm arose, piling up the waters
of the lagoons and threatening the destruction of Venice. In the midst
of the tempest, a man approached one of the gondoliers on the Riva dei
Schiavoni, near the cathedral, and asked to be rowed across the canal
to San Giorgio Maggiore. It was in vain that the gondolier protested
he could not make head against the storm; he was at last forced to
yield to the importunities of his would-be passenger. But what was his
surprise to find that his boat proceeded as easily as though no storm
were raging. On their arrival at San Giorgio Maggiore they were joined
by another man, and the gondolier was now directed to proceed to the
Lido. This time his reluctance was less difficult to overcome, although
the storm was growing worse, for he felt encouraged by the ease with
which he had already made part of the journey. And sure enough his
long row to the Lido was equally uneventful. Here a third man joined
the party, and the gondolier was told to row out between the castles
on either side of the entrance into the open Adriatic. Feeling that he
could now refuse nothing, the gondolier undertook to accomplish this
apparently impossible task, and succeeded in reaching the sea. Here
there arose before them a ship manned by the demons of the storm, who
were steering their way in toward Venice, bringing utter destruction
with them. And now the three men in the little boat stood up and
pronounced an exorcism of such power that the ship foundered, and the
demons, howling fearfully, were swallowed up in the deep. Immediately
the tempest was stilled and the waves died down. The gondolier was now
ordered to take his passengers back to the places where they embarked,
and when the last of them, the first one he had picked up, stepped
on to the Riva dei Schiavoni, he announced himself to be Mark, the
Evangelist, and dropped a ring worth five ducats into the gondolier’s
hand, telling him to show it to the authorities and say that it was
St. Mark’s ring, in proof of which they would find that its carefully
locked receptacle in the cathedral was empty.[516] This proved to be
true, and the gondolier received a liberal pension as a reward for
having aided, however humbly, in the preservation of Venice by St.
Mark.[517]
The marvellous ring of Gyges may have suggested to Abbot Tritheim,
or Trithemius, of Spandau (1462–1516) the idea of fabricating a ring
which would give the wearer the power of becoming invisible at will.
The Abbot asserts that he had made such a ring out of the material
called electrum, a natural alloy of gold and silver, having the color
of amber. To possess the requisite power, the ring must be cast at the
hour at which the person designing to use it was born, and it should be
inscribed with the word “Tetragrammaton” signifying the four letters
composing the Ineffable Name. When this ring was placed upon the thumb
of the left hand, the wearer immediately became invisible. Besides this
virtue, when worn on any finger, the ring preserved the wearer from
poison and betrayed the presence of enemies by changing color.[518]
Rings bearing the Latin inscription “Jesus autem transiens per medium
illorum” (Jesus, however, passing through their midst),[519] were
thought to confer invisibility upon the wearer. This inscription
occurs on the hoop of a gold ring set with an uncut diamond, shown at
the Special Exhibition at the South Kensington Museum, June, 1862.
This motto, “Jesus autem transiens,” etc., was in mediæval times
regarded as a great charm against the dangers that menaced a traveller
on his journeys. In his quaint old English, Sir John Mandeville says
of this that these words were sometimes pronounced by “some men when
thei dreden them of thefes on any way, or of enemyes, in token and
mynde that our Lord passed through out of the Jews’ crueltie and
scaped safely fro hem.” On the gold noble which Edward III had struck
in commemoration of his victory in the naval battle of Helvoet Sluys
in 1340, and of his escape from the perils he underwent therein, this
motto appears as the legend.[520]
Lambeccius narrates that he once told Emperor Leopold I (1657–1675) of
a magic gold ring, said to have been long preserved in the Austrian
treasury, and whose special virtue was that it could be used as an
oracle to foretell the results of an approaching battle. If victory
was to crown the Austrian army, this ring would shine with an unwonted
splendor. It was said to be made from the gold offered by the Magi
to the Infant Jesus. While, however, sacred ceremonies were being
performed before the Emperor Frederick, grandson of Rudolph I., just
before his departure for a disastrous battle with Louis of Bavaria,
the ring vanished from the eyes of man. Later, it was said to have
been recovered and Lambeccius suggested that a ring he had recently
observed in the treasury, bearing certain characters difficult of
interpretation, might be the ring made from the offering of the
Magi.[521] The omen of victory observable in this ring must have been
suggested by what Josephus writes of the high-priest’s breastplate.
According to his story “God announced victory in battle” by means of
the twelve stones set in this breastplate, and he proceeds “such a
splendour shone from them when the army was not yet in motion, that all
the people knew God himself was present to aid them.”
A magic ring was made in the seventeenth century by a Florentine
monk, named Nicolaus; this was designed to drive away gnats. It bore
a charmed figure executed during the ascendency of the planet Saturn.
The charm is said to have worked successfully. Since Saturn was usually
regarded as a bearer of ill-luck, the operation of the magic figure
must have depended upon sympathetic magic, the enlisting of the help of
an evil power to combat a nature-plague.[522]
It is related that long ago in the Principality of Anhalt, a princess
had the habit of going to the window after dinner and shaking out the
crumbs from her napkin. Intention or chance induced a great toad to
station itself under this window so as to eat up the precious crumbs.
In due time the princess was wedded, and one night, shortly before
the birth of a child, she saw a maid enter the room with a lighted
candle in her hand. Approaching the bedside she handed a gold ring
to the princess, telling her at the same time that it was sent by
the toad, out of gratitude for the food she had given it, with the
earnest warning to guard the ring carefully, as the fortunes of Anhalt
were bound up with it. Moreover, every precaution was to be taken on
Christmas Eve to guard against fire.[523] It is stated that this ring
was still to be seen in Dessau in 1722, and that it was customary to
put out all the fires in the palace on Christmas Eve, and to have
watchmen patrol the building all through the night.[524]
A luminous ring is poetically described in Titus Andronicus, a play
somewhat doubtfully attributed to Shakespeare who probably merely
revised and embellished, in or about 1590, an original from some other
hand. In any case, the lines referring to the luminous stone are highly
expressive. After the murder of Bassianus, Martius searches in the
depths of a dark pit for the dead body and suddenly cries out to his
companion, Quintus, that he has discovered the bloody corpse. As the
interior of the pit is pitch-dark, Quintus can scarcely believe what he
hears, and asks Martius how the latter could possibly see what he has
described. The answer is given in the following lines:
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 cheek,
And show the ragged entrails of this pit.
Titus Andronicus, Act II, Sc. 4.
For the superstitious among certain Oriental peoples any injury to an
amulet-ring was looked upon as a sure presage of coming misfortune.
It is related of a Turk in the town of Jablanica, Bosnia, that having
broken his amulet-ring, he started out forthwith on an arduous
ten-hours’ journey to Mostar, the nearest place where his ring could
be repaired, and he no doubt pursued his way in fear and trembling
lest the threatened ill-fortune should befall him ere he reached the
goldsmith who could mend his ring and thus restore its virtue.[525] In
the National Hungarian Museum at Budapest is a silver ring set with a
carnelian, on which are engraved Oriental characters. This was found,
in 1812, in the garden of the royal palace at Budapest. Rings of a
similar kind are often worn by Turks and Arabs, and are greatly valued
as talismans, as they are believed to afford the wearers protection in
battle, in the chase, and when indulging in dissipation.[526]
The ring with its smooth circle, having neither beginning nor end, is
a fit symbol of eternity, and is often figured in this connection; and
yet its material substance is transitory. This aspect is illustrated by
the Eastern story that a wise man and favorite of a king once gave him
a ring on which was the inscription: “Even this shall pass away.” In
bestowing it upon the king, the sage said: “When in dire distress your
soul is weighed down with trouble, look at this ring! When in the midst
of festivities, joy and wild hilarity, look at this ring! _Even this
shall pass away._”[527]
In an illustrated work on ancient jades, in two quarto volumes,
published in 1889 by the well-known scholar and statesman, Wu Ta-cheng
(b. 1833), this writer conjectures that archer’s rings of _white_
jade were reserved for the emperor’s use. At the present day rings
of this type are made in Peking from the antler of a species of elk.
The Catholic missionary, Father Zi, states that the rings most highly
valued are those made out of jade of the Han period (_Han yü_),
of a white gray with red veining and green stripes. Rings found in
the graves of students who have passed the military examinations are
of reddish hue, and the opinion prevails that they afford protection
against malevolent spirits.[528]
In the symbolism of the ring, the complete circle is regarded by the
Chinese as denoting the combination of all divine principles, as these
are supposed to move in an everlasting and unbroken circle, having
neither beginning nor end. An evil significance, however, attaches to
an incomplete or half-ring, called _küeh_, a sound that means “to
cut off, to slay; to pass sentence; to decide, to settle.” An early
instance of the use of such a ring to signify banishment is related
of the Prince Shên-shêng whose father sent him on a fatal military
expedition in 659 B.C., at the instigation of one of his
concubines. This ring, which was attached to a girdle, was equivalent
to a formal decree that the prince was cast off and should never
return. In consequence of the ambiguity of Chinese spoken and written
words, a half-ring or at least one not describing a closed circle is
said to have been worn at one time by Chinese scholars, because one
of the meanings of the sound _küeh_ is “to decide,” as has been
noted above.[529] The Chinese writer Pan Ku (d. 92 A.D.) says
that those who cultivated moral conduct without end, wore a complete
ring suspended from the girdle, while those able to decide questions of
aversion and doubt, wore half-rings, this being again a symbolic use of
the double meaning of _küeh_.
As the Chinese word signifying “a jade-ring” has the same sound
(_huan_) as the word meaning “to return, to repay,” and is
expressed with the same phonetic symbol, the sending of such a ring
by an emperor to an exiled official was a symbolic summons for the
official to return. However, a jade-ring could also be a signal
for besieging a city, since the syllable _huan_ can mean “an
enclosing wall.”[530] As an illustration, the word “ring,” a ring; and
“ring,” imperative of “to ring,” might make the sending of a ring to a
bell-ringer signify that he should let his bells peal forth.
Quite a number of finely-executed gold rings, with or without settings,
as well as other pieces of jewelry, are made by Chinese goldsmiths in
San Francisco. Silver is never used. Seal rings are occasionally made;
the favorite setting is jade, next to which comes the opal; diamonds
are also used for this purpose. No wedding rings are given, although
the bestowal of a ring as a gift is highly appreciated. The prices
range from $6 for a plain gold ring to from $20 to $200 for one of
mandarin-style, set with a piece of jade. Sometimes short inscriptions
are engraved on rings, such as “Long Life,” or “Beautiful.”[531]
In the plate representing the interior of a Chinese jeweller’s shop
in San Francisco, the proprietor of the place is shown seated in the
background. None of the artisans, however, were willing to face the
camera, either from superstitious dread of having their pictures taken,
or perhaps through fear of being molested in some way by the Government.
[Illustration:
_Photograph by Cardinell-Vincent Co., San Francisco_
SHOP OF A CHINESE SILVERSMITH IN SAN FRANCISCO
As the workers were unwilling to have their pictures taken, the
only figure is that of the proprietor]
[Illustration: MODERN CHINESE RINGS]
[Illustration: Inset ring stones. 1, moss agate in dark gray
jasper; 2, garnet in chalcedony; 3, almandine garnet in brownish
chalcedony; 4, aquamarine in red jasper; 5, sardonyx; 6, topaz in
lapis-lazuli; 7, banded agate. Part of a collection of rings that
all fit in one setting. See page 65
American Museum of Natural History]
[Illustration: Spiral brass rings made in the Philippine Islands
American Museum of Natural History, New York City]
When the nine gems of the great Hindu charm, the _naoratna_, are
set in rings, the Burmese usage is to place the ruby in the centre, and
group around it the eight other stones. Rings of this description were
worn by Burmese kings and nobles as preventives of disease or danger.
Sometimes an incantation is recited over these nine stones, which are
then immersed in water, the belief being that whoever drinks of this
water will secure immunity from all evil.[532]
In the masterpiece of Hindu dramatic literature, the Çakuntalâ of the
poet Kâlidâsa, written about the sixth century of our era, a ring
plays a most important part. The heroine, the daughter of the nymph
Menakâ and the sage Viçvamitra, has had it foretold to her that the
man who loves and marries her will entirely forget her, until his
love and memory are revived by a ring. In due time she is beloved of
the King Dushyanta, who marries her, but soon leaves her, to return
to his court. When she follows him thither he fails to recognize her.
Thereupon she remembers what had been predicted in regard to a ring,
but finds to her dismay that the one the King gave her has been lost.
In the next act of the play a fisherman is dragged in by guards who
charge him with having in his possession the royal signet-ring and
with having invented the tale that he found it inside a fish. The
king, however, admits the truth of the story, rewards the fisherman,
and gladly receives the ring. As soon as he places it on his finger he
recognizes his bride and his love for her is renewed.[533]
The Khedive Tewfik Pasha related, about 1880, his experience with a
certain Ahmed Agha, a Turk, who possessed a magic ring. It was a plain
hoop of gold set with a red stone (probably a carnelian), and was said
to have come from Mecca. The Turk claimed that by its help visions
could be seen, and the Khedive consented to make a test of the ring’s
virtue. Ahmed said that he required for the experiment the assistance
of a child under ten years of age, whereupon the Khedive summoned a
little girl from the harem to act as assistant, or we might rather say
principal. The Turk attached to this girl’s head a silver plate on
which a verse of the Koran was engraved, and placed in her hand the
mystic ring with the red stone which, he declared, would change from
red to white if the experiment was to be successful. A few moments
after the preparation had been made, the girl cried out: “The stone has
changed to white.” Hereupon the Khedive asked her to describe a number
of persons she had never seen, and she invariably gave correct answers.
Tewfik was so much impressed by the experiment that he exclaimed: “I
can believe it, and yet I cannot understand it.” A few days later he
sent word to the Turk that he wished to borrow the ring, but the man
besought him not to take it away. An offer of £100 from a court noble
was also refused. Finally, Ahmed was summoned to the court and the
Khedive again urged him to surrender the ring, but when he repeated his
prayers that it should not be taken from him the Khedive lost patience
and said to him: “You are mistaken in thinking that I believe in the
power of your ring or in things of that kind. I wish you good morning.”
Poor Ahmed was only too glad to get off so easily and he left Cairo
never to return there.[534]
In this case, as in many others, a change of color is asserted to take
place in the stone, an indication that the mineral substance responds
to some impression from without. It is as though part of the virtue
of the stone had left it, for with a colored stone we might say, in
a poetic sense, that its color is its life and soul. Hence in this
particular instance the loss of color was probably thought to indicate
that some in-dwelling spirit had passed from the stone to the little
girl and dictated her responses; possibly if the ring were arranged
with some mechanical or hollow space a colored foil could be pressed
under the white stone, or a liquid passed under it, giving the delusion
of the change from white to red and red to white.
In Scandinavia, carnelians were used as ring-stones in very early
times; a fine specimen of such a ring was found in Ysted, in the
province of Scania, and another at Verdalen, Norway. That these were
credited with power as amulets seems highly probable, for some of the
early Norse rings were so highly valued by their owners that they were
designated by individual names. Thus we are told of a gold ring named
Hnited, “The Welded,” which was given as a precious gift by Ulf the
Red to King Olaf. This particular ring was welded together from seven
pieces of exceptionally pure gold, the number of pieces evidently
having a mystic significance.[535]
There is or was a superstition among the Swedish Lapps that at times,
on the lonely moorlands, might be seen visionary herds of reindeer,
packs of dogs, or even apparitions having the form of Laplanders. When
one who sees any such objects goes in pursuit of them, they disappear
before they can be reached; if, however, while they are still visible
a steel or brass ring is thrown at them, they immediately become real
living creatures. Popular legend even has to tell of men or women who
in this way have secured wives or husbands, respectively, in reality
changelings, _trolls_, apparently or really transformed into human
beings.[536]
An onyx ring is made the cause of a series of wonderful transmigrations
in an old-fashioned tale written about 1840 by John Sterling, of whom
Thomas Carlyle has left us a most interesting biography.[537] In this
story, the hero, a young barrister discouraged in his profession and
disappointed in love, finds himself one night in an exceptionally
depressed frame of mind. Opening, at chance, an old necromantic work,
he is fascinated, perhaps hypnotized, by the vaguely mystic sentences,
and is scarcely astonished to perceive, standing before him in his
deserted room, what appears to be the figure of an aged man, who in the
most-approved magician fashion offers him an onyx ring, engraved with
the head of Apollonius of Tyana, and of such virtue that if he puts
it on the forefinger of his right hand, he will be able to transfer
himself into the body of any existing personage. His identification
with the new personality will indeed be so complete, that his old
existence will be entirely forgotten. This is to last for a week, at
the expiration of which his memory will suddenly be revived for a
short time, and he will have the choice to remain as he is, to change
his fleshly tabernacle again, or to return to his own body. In the
last-named case, however, his special power will be taken from him, and
he must continue in his own form.