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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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:--
[Illustration: Amulet ring: Roman.]
The council of ravens, prophetic birds (and attributes of Apollo), or
crows, which were used as symbols of conjugal fidelity:--
[Illustration: Amulet ring: Roman.]
A silver ring on a sardonyx, engraved with the figure of a sow, as a
propitiatory sacrifice:--
[Illustration: 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):--
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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:--
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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]
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: Talismanic ring.]
[Illustration: 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.’
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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 1-1/10 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.’
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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.’
[Illustration: 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.’
[Illustration: 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]
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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 7_s._ 6_d._ 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 1_s._ 2_d._
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._’