CHAPTER VII.

MEMORIAL AND MORTUARY RINGS.

Bequests of rings are frequently mentioned in wills of the middle and

later ages. In the reign of Henry the Third, two rings were bequeathed to

that monarch by a bishop of Chichester, one adorned with an emerald, the

other with a ruby. These jewels were taken out and employed to decorate an

image of the Virgin at Westminster, and were placed on her forehead.

In the will of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Essex (1319), among

various bequests is ‘un anel d’or avec un ruby qe ma femme me devisa, qe

ad tout pleni de coups, et est en un petit forcer en une graunte husche au

bout de la basse gardrobe’ (the gold ring with a ruby which his wife

devised to him, and which is all covered with bruises, and is in a little

casket in a great box at the end of the lower wardrobe). This is probably

the same ring mentioned in an inventory of effects as an ‘anel d’or ove j

Rubie.’

Thomas de Hoton, rector of Kyrkebymisperton (1351), bequeathed to his

chaplain, amongst other objects, ‘j annulum vertuosum.’ Another is to

‘Domine Thome de Bouthum.’ These were supposed to possess some healing, or

talismanic properties, such rings being termed, in mediæval Latin,

_vertuosus_.

In the ‘Bury Wills and Inventories’ (Camden Society) are various bequests

of rings. Some of these entries are very curious. John Baret (1463) leaves

to ‘Elizabet Drury, my wyf, a ryng of gold with an ymage of the Trinitie.’

To Dame Margarete Spurdaunce ‘a doubyl ryng departyed of gold, with a ruby

and a turkeys, with a scripture wretȳ with jnne, for a rememberaunce of

oold love vertuously set at all times to the pleseer of God.’ To his

nephew, Thomas Drury, ‘my best ryng of gold next mȳ signet, therein is

wretyn _Grace me governe_, with letteris of I and B, accordyng to my name

innamelid.’ To his niece Katerine, ‘for a tookne of rememberaunce, a gold

ryng, wretyn with jnne the gold ryng, _In noi é Ih’u signo me signo tab_.’

To William Clopton, ‘the jemews and the rynges of sylvir, therin wretyn

_Grace me governe_, for a tookne he vowchesaf in tyme comyng to shewe his

good maistershepe to my wil.’ To ‘Thomais Brews, esquiyer, my crampe ryng,

with blak innamel and a part sylvir and gilt.’

Anne of Cleves, who survived Henry VIII., left by her will several

mourning-rings of various values for distribution among her friends and

dependents.

In the ‘Wills from Doctors’ Commons, 1495 to 1695’ (Camden Society),

Cecily, Duchess of York (1495), gives to John Metcalfe and Alice his wife

‘all the ringes that I have, except such as hang by my bedes and Agnus,

and also except my signet.’

Anne Barett (1504) bequeaths to Our Lady of Walsingham ‘my maryeng ryng,

with all thyngys hangyng theron.’

Agnes Hals (1554) leaves to her son ‘a rynge with the Passion of gold,’

and to her niece ‘my ringe with the wepinge eie;’ to another son ‘my rynge

with the dead ma̅n̄es head.’

Jasper Despotin, M.D. (1648), wills and appoints ‘ten rings of gold to be

made of the value of twenty shillings a peece sterling, with a death’s

head vpon some of them, within one moneth after my dep̱ture, and to be

disposed of amongst my friends as my executrices shall thinke meet.’ To

Mr. Gibbon, ‘fortie shillings sterling to buy him a ring for a memoriall

of me.’

Lady Anne Drury (1621) bequeaths ‘tenne pounds a peece to all my brothers

to buy them ringes, and twentie pounds to be bestowed in ringes of tenne

shillinges amongest my freinds whom they shall thinke fitte.’

Edmund Lee (1535) mentions in his will ‘my ij wrethed rynge of gold, whych

I ware on my thombe;’ also ‘my gold ryng wt a turkes, and a crampe ryng of

gold wt all.’

Dame Maude Parr (1529), amongst other bequests of rings, mentions one

‘with a table diamontt sett with blacke aniell, meate for my little

finger.’

Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester (1557), bequeaths, ‘to my Lord

Legate’s Grace (Cardinal Pole) a ring with a dyamounte, not so bigge as he

is wourthie to have, but such as his poore orator is able to geve.’

Speaker Lenthall (1682) appoints his executor ‘to give my friends Sir John

Lenthall, his lady and children, and other my cozens and nephews, 50 gold

rings with this motto, “Oritur non Moritur.”’ In a codicil he adds: ‘I

also desire that my son will weare his mother’s wedding-ring about his

arme in remembrance of her.’

William Prynne (1699) bequeaths ‘to my deare brother, Mr. Thomas Prynne,

my best gold ring with my father’s armes.’ To Katheryne Clerke, ‘my best

serjeant’s ring.’ To her husband, ‘one of my gold rings. Item. I give to

every one of their sonnes and daughters who shal be living at the tyme of

my decease one gold ring, and one hundred pounds a peece.’

In the will of Sir Richard Gresham (died 1548), father of the founder of

the Exchange, he bequeathed a ring to the Protector, Duke of Somerset, and

another to the profligate Duchess of Somerset, each of the value of five

pounds, and he also left rings to all his friends.

John Meres, an ‘Esquire Beadle’ of Corpus Christi College, left, in 1558,

to the Vice-Chancellor of the College a ring weighing a royal (valued at

ten shillings): to Dr. Hutcher, a ring worth fifteen shillings, and a gold

ring set with a cornelian to each of the ‘supervisors.’ Meres had a patent

for being gauger in 1550.

Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury, gave by will (1575) a gold ring

with a round sapphire to Edmund Grindal, Archbishop of York, who succeeded

him in the see of Canterbury.

In Collins’s ‘Baronage’ is the curious will of Thomas Sackville, Earl of

Dorset (Lord High Treasurer in the times of Elizabeth and James I.), in

which several rings are mentioned (see chapter on ‘Token-Rings’). Amongst

others ‘a ring of gold enamelled black, wherein is set a great table

diamonde, beying perfect and pure, and of much worth.’ This ring, with

other jewels, was given to him by the King of Spain. During the minority

of his descendants, these were to be consigned, as heirlooms, ‘in a strong

chest of iron, under two several keys,’ to the custody of the Warden, and

a senior fellow of New College, Oxford.

Sir Philip Sidney (1586) desires that ‘three gold rings, set with large

diamonds, might be fashioned exactly alike, for his aunt, the Countess of

Sussex; another aunt’s husband, the Earl of Huntingdon; and his

brother-in-law, the Earl of Pembroke.’

Thomas Wentworth, one of the chiefs of that great house, who died in 1587,

bequeathed to his son and heir, William, besides other valuables, his gold

ring, ‘whereon is engraved his crest, badge, and cognizance.’

Among the Rokeby family papers, in the will of Sir Ralph Rokeby (1600), is

the bequest of several rings, ‘gratuities to kynsfolkes.’

Thomas Sutton, founder of the Charter House, bequeaths (in 1611) ten

pounds to Mr. Thomas Brown, ‘to make him a ring.’

Our great national dramatist, Shakspeare, in his will (dated 1616)

mentions certain moneys for the purchase of rings by several of his

friends. Five are mentioned: two are his townsmen, Hamlet (_Hamnet_)

Sadler, and William Reynolds, who have each twenty-six shillings and

eightpence left them ‘to buy them ringes,’ the other three being the

actors (‘my fellows,’ as he affectionately terms them), John Hemynge,

Richard Burbage, and Henry Cundell, each of whom has a similar sum.

In the testament of Richard Burgess, vicar of Witney (1632), he gives to

his eldest son, John, the ring which he usually wore on his left hand, and

also ‘twenty shillings to each of the two overseers of his last will, to

purchase rings.’

Sir Henry Wotton, in 1637, leaves to each of the Fellows at Eton College

‘a plain gold ring, enamelled black, all save the verge, with this motto

within, “Amor unit omnia.”’

In a will, dated 1648, occurs this clause: ‘I do will and appoint ten

rings of gold to be made, of the value of twenty shillings a piece,

sterling, with a death’s-head upon some of them.’

The stock of rings described in the Duke of Newcastle’s play, ‘The

Varietie’ (1649), as the treasure of an old country lady, is suggestive of

past legacies or memorials as well as the tastes of the yeomanry at that

period: ‘A toadstone, two Turkies (turquoises), six thumb-rings, three

alderman’s seals, five gemmals, and foure death’s-head,’ The enumeration

concludes with the uncomplimentary observation, ‘these are alehouse

ornaments’ (Fairholt).

There are numerous varieties of mourning rings left by bequest in former

times. The accompanying illustration represents one that would appeal to

the feelings of the survivors in the simple and affecting inscription

which it bears: ‘When this you see, remember me.’ The ring is of silver,

jet, and gold.

[Illustration: Old Mourning ring.]

Miss Agnes Strickland, in her ‘Lives of the Four Princesses of the Royal

House of Stuart,’ mentions a circumstance in the life of the Princess

Henrietta Anne (1670), that, ‘as Bossuet was kneeling by her bedside, she

suddenly turned to one of her ladies and spoke to her in English, which

the Bishop did not understand, to tell her that when she should have

entered into her rest, she was to give Bossuet the emerald ring which had

been ordered to be made for him as a memorial of her.’

Izaak Walton added a codicil to his will (1683) for the distribution of

memorial rings to several of his relations and friends, with the motto, ‘A

friend’s farewell. I. W., obiit;’ the value of the rings to be thirteen

shillings and fourpence each. In the will itself he gives to his

son-in-law, Dr. Hawkins, ‘whom I love as my own son;’ to his daughter, his

wife, and his son Izaak, a ring to each of them, with the motto, ‘Love my

memory. I. W., obiit.’ To the Lord Bishop of Winchester a ring, with the

motto, ‘A mite for a million. I. W., obiit.’

In a codicil of the last testament of Nell Gwyn (1687) she requests that

Lady Fairborne may have fifty pounds given to her to buy a ring.

Dr. John Spencer, Master of Corpus Christi College, in his will (1693)

left twenty shillings to each of the Fellows of his college for a funeral

ring.

Queen Elizabeth, eldest daughter to James the First, wore to the day of

her death a mourning ring, in which was a lock of her brother’s hair,

brought over to Bohemia by a faithful servant, with the device of a crown

over a skull and cross-bones, and the letters ‘C. R.’ After her death, in

1662, it was much prized by her descendants, and was long a heirloom among

them.

On the eve of the death of Henrietta Anne, the daughter of Charles the

First, she sent most tender messages to her brothers King Charles the

Second, and James, Duke of York; and, drawing from her finger a ring, she

expressed a wish that it might be sent to the former, as a memorial of her

dying love.

A remarkable interest is attached to the bequest of a ring by Sir Charles

Cotterell, master of the ceremonies, who died in 1700. The particulars are

given in the ‘Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries’ (January 30,

1862). ‘I bequeath to my constantly obliging Friend, S{r} Stephen Fox, a

ring w{th} a figure cut in an onyx, which was given by King Charles y{e}

first, from his Finger to S{r} Philip Warwick, at y{e} Treaty in the Isle

of Wight, to seal letters he there writt for him, and wh{ch} S{r} Philip

left to me for a Legacy, and w{ch} I cannot leave to anybody that has been

a greater Honourer of that Excellent Prince’s Memory, nor a Worthier

Friend to us both, and who for these reasons I know will value it.’ To

this has been added, by Sir Stephen Fox, ‘which I leave to my son Stephen

and his Heirs, enjoining him to keep it in remembrance of the excellent

King that gave it off his Finger to S{r} Philip Warwick, who died in

August 1684, and his son Philip at New Market a month after, and excellent

S{r} Charles Cotterell died in the year 1700, and after this was left to

my good son Charles, who died in September 1713. Ste(phen) Fox.’

At the commencement of the first of these memoranda, and (observes Mr.

Franks, by whom these particulars were given to the Society) at the

conclusion of the last are much-mutilated impressions from a very small

antique gem, which, there can be no doubt, is the onyx set in the ring in

question. The figure is of fine workmanship, and represents a

partially-draped young man standing in profile to the right. It is,

possibly, a representation of Mercury, and resembles somewhat in attitude

the bronze statue found at Huis, in the south of France, and known as the

Payne Knight Mercury.

Mr. Franks corrects an error of Sir Stephen Fox as to the date of the

death of Sir Philip Warwick, which took place January 15, 1682-3.

The subsequent history of this remarkable ring is contained in a short

note written on the envelope enclosing the above memoranda, by the Earl of

Ilchester, son of Sir Stephen Fox. ‘Memorandum: I am much concerned for

the loss of the ring which was given by King Charles I. to Sir Philip

Warwick, as mentioned in the enclosed paper. This ring was stolen when my

house in Burlington Street was broken open by rogues in January 1722.’

‘With these papers’ (remarks Mr. Franks) ‘is preserved a long letter

giving an account of the burglary, which took place during the absence of

the family, and was of a very cool and daring character. It is sadly to be

feared that the gold setting of the ring has found its way to the

melting-pot; the onyx, however, may have been preserved, and may,

probably, be hereafter identified by the mutilated impressions in the Earl

of Ilchester’s possession.’

In the Appendix to Pepys’s ‘Diary’ is a list of all the persons to whom

rings and mourning were presented upon the occasion of his death (May 26,

1703) and funeral, by which it appears that forty-six rings of the value

of twenty shillings, sixty-two at fifteen shillings, and twenty at ten

shillings were distributed among friends on that occasion.

In a codicil to the will of Bishop Burnet (died 1715) a long list of

legacies occurs to his children; some of these were afterwards erased, and

amongst them the bequest of ‘my pointed diamond’ to Gilbert, his second

son. The ring was given to the late Sir John Sewell of Doctors’ Commons,

by a descendant from Bishop Burnet. This ring is in the possession of Mr.

C. Desborough, Bedford. In the collection of the Duke of Richmond is a

memorial ring, gold, set with diamond, hoop enamelled in white, and

inscribed ‘E. S. Dux Buckingensis,’ divided by a ducal coronet on a black

ground. English work of the middle of the seventeenth century. Made in

memory of Edmund Sheffield, second Duke of Buckingham, who died a minor in

1735.

That great man, George Washington, in his will, thus bequeaths ‘to my

sisters-in-law Hannah Washington and Mildred Washington, to my friends

Eleanor Stuart, Hannah Washington, of Fairfield, and Elizabeth Washington,

of Hayfield, I give each a mourning-ring of the value of one hundred

dollars. These bequests are not made for the intrinsic value of them, but

as mementos of my esteem and regard.’

In a few loving words addressed by a Lady Palmerston, when dying, to her

husband, after mentioning the wealth at her disposal, which she gave to

him, she mentions two chocolate-cups formed of mourning-rings, which were

used daily by Lady Palmerston in memory of departed friends; these she

wished her husband to look upon as a remembrance of death, and also of the

fondest and most faithful friend he ever had.

A very long list might be added of bequests of rings by distinguished

persons, but I must be content to notice how the practice has been

continued at intervals to the present time. A notable item occurs in the

will of Charlotte Augusta Matilda, eldest daughter of George III., and

Queen of Wurtemberg, in which she bequeaths to the Princess Augusta, among

other costly objects, a ring containing a watch, set with brilliants.

Rings were formerly given to attendants at funerals; an extract from the

books of the Ironmongers’ Company, dated 1719, states: ‘The master

acquainted the court that one John Turney, an undertaker for funerals, had

lately buried one Mrs. Mason for the Hall, but had refused the master,

wardens, and clerk each a ring, &c., according to his agreement, the

persons invited being served with gloves, hat-bands, and rings. Ordered:

the said undertaker be compelled to perform his agreement as the master

and wardens shall direct.’ The practice of offering rings at funerals is

introduced as an incident in ‘Sir Amadace.’

In former days widows wore their ring on the thumb as an emblem of

widowhood, and the following ‘trick’ in connection with it is mentioned

in the ‘Spectator:’--‘It is common enough for a stale virgin to set up a

shop in a place where the large thumb-ring, supposed to be given her by

her husband, quickly recommends her to some wealthy neighbour, who takes a

liking to the jolly widow that would have overlooked the veritable

spinster.’

Among the most touching episodes in connection with memorial rings is that

exhibited in the closing hours of the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, at

Fotheringay Castle, just previous to her execution. She distributed the

jewels that remained to her among her faithful attendants as tokens of her

affection and regard. Among other sad memorials, she desired that a

sapphire ring, which she took from her finger, might be conveyed as a mark

of grateful acknowledgment to her brave kinsman Lord Claude Hamilton.

Concerning this ring, Bishop Burnet says, ‘it is carefully preserved as

one of the most precious heirlooms of that illustrious family.’ Miss

Strickland informs us that it is now in the possession of Lord Claude’s

accomplished representative, the present Duke of Hamilton, ‘by whom it was

courteously shown to me at Hamilton Palace in 1857. It is a large square

sapphire of peculiar beauty, rose-cut in several diamond-points, and set

in gold enamelled blue in the curious cinque-cento work of that period.’

In the ‘Times’ (January 2, 1857) is an account of another memorial ring of

the last sad hours of Queen Mary at Fotheringay. The letter is signed ‘A

Constant Reader.’ ‘There is a lady residing at Broadstairs who is in

possession of the identical ring which was worn by Mary, previous to her

execution, and given by her to one of her maids of honour as a token of

remembrance, and who was afterwards so reduced as to be compelled to sell

it for the value of the gold. The engraving is on amber, the usual

material for such purposes at that period, and, as you may see from the

enclosed impression, is much worn by time. It is supposed that the seal in

the late Earl of Buchan’s collection was copied from it. This valuable

antique was purchased many years ago by a member of the present

possessor’s family, at the sale of the celebrated antiquary John M’Gowan,

of Edinburgh, who considered it a most valuable gem.’

A ring memorial was sent by the Countess of Hertford (the great

granddaughter of Henry VII., and one of the victims of Queen Elizabeth’s

jealousy) on her dying bed by the hands of Sir Owen Hopton, of Cockfield

Hall, Suffolk: ‘This shall be the last token unto my lord that ever I

shall send him. It is the picture of myself.’ The ring bore a death’s head

with an inscription around it: ‘while I live--yours.’

[Illustration: Memorial rings, Charles I.]

The Londesborough Collection contains two memorial rings of King Charles

I., one of gold, with a table-faced diamond, and two smaller diamonds on

each side. On the shank is engraved an elongated skeleton, with

cross-bones above the skull, and a spade and pickaxe at the feet upon

black enamel. Within is engraved ‘C. R., January 30, 1649, Martyr.’

The other ring is also of gold, with a square table-faced diamond on an

oval face, which opens and reveals beneath a portrait of Charles in

enamel. The face of the ring, the back and side portions of the shank are

engraved with scroll-work, filled in with black enamel.

[Illustration: Memorial ring, Charles I.]

In the fifteenth day’s sale (May 11, 1842) at Strawberry Hill (lot 59), ‘a

truly interesting relic,’ as the ring was termed, is recorded to have been

bought by Mr. Harvey, of Regent Street, for fifteen guineas. In Horace

Walpole’s catalogue it is described as one of the _only seven_

mourning-rings given at the burial of Charles I. It has the King’s head in

miniature behind a death’s-head between the letters ‘C. R.’ The motto is

‘Prepared be to follow me.’ A present to Horace Walpole from Lady Murray

Elliott.

‘A long and minute account of a ring,’ remarks the late Crofton Croker,

‘with a miniature of Charles I., appeared in the “Gentleman’s Magazine”

for July 1823. It was then in the possession of the late Captain I. Toup

Nicholas, R.N., and he inherited it from the Giffard family. This ring had

four diamonds on the top, on lifting up which, a head of King Charles,

enamelled on a turquoise, presented itself. The size of the painting does

not exceed the fourth part of an inch; the execution is particularly fine,

and the likeness excessively faithful. The small part of his Majesty’s

dress which is visible, appears similar to that in which he is usually

represented; and a piece of the ribbon to which the “George” is suspended

is discernible; on closing the lid the portrait becomes perfectly hid.

Although miniatures of Charles I. are not uncommon, this is particularly

valuable from the portrait being concealed, and also from its being

supposed to be the smallest of him.’

At page 152 of Hulbert’s ‘History of Salop’ is an account of a ring in the

possession of the Misses Pigott, of Upton Magna, said to be one of the

four presented by Charles I., prior to his execution. It bears a small but

beautiful miniature of the royal martyr. Inside the ring and reverse of

the portrait is inscribed over a death’s-head ‘January 30, 1649,’ inside

of the ring is engraved ‘Martyr Populi.’

A similar ring to this is in the possession of Mrs. Henderson (formerly

Miss Adolphus), of London; and is said to have come to her in the female

line, through her mother’s family. Charles presented it to Sir Lionel

Walden on the morning in which he lost his life. It bears a miniature

likeness of the King, set in small brilliants. Inside the ring are the

words ‘Sic transit gloria mundi.’ A ring bearing the same inscription and

a miniature of King Charles is in the collection of John Evans, Esq.,

F.R.S., Vice-President of the Antiquarian Society.

In the family of Rogers, of Lota, a ring is still preserved as a heirloom

which was presented to an ancestor by King Charles I. during his

misfortunes. In the will of Robert Rogers, which was registered in the

Record-office, Dublin, occurs the following paragraph: ‘And I also

bequeath to Noblett Rogers the miniature portrait-ring of the martyr

Charles I., given by that monarch to my ancestor, previous to his

execution, and I particularly desire that it may be preserved in the name

and family.’ The miniature, which is beautifully painted in enamel, and

said to be by Vandyck, has been re-set in a very tasteful and appropriate

style: the original settings and inscriptions exactly correspond with

those on the ring in the possession of the Misses Pigott, as previously

mentioned. The correspondent of ‘Notes and Queries,’ from whom I have

derived this information, adds: ‘I have lately seen a ring with a portrait

of Charles on ivory in a coarse and very inferior style, and in a plain

gold setting. It is in the possession of a gentleman, in whose family it

has remained for several generations.’

Another memorial ring of Charles I. is described in the ‘Gentleman’s

Magazine’ (September 1823) as having belonged to a lady named Heanaud, who

died at Chelsea in 1809. ‘The ring itself was of pure gold, and without

jewellery or ornament of any kind. On the top of it was an oval of white

enamel, not more than half an inch in longitudinal diameter, and

apparently about an eighth of an inch in thickness. The surface was

slightly convexed, and divided into four compartments, in each of which

was painted one of the four cardinal virtues, which, although so minute as

to be scarcely perceptible to the clearest sight, by the application of a

glass appeared perfectly distinct, each figure being well proportioned,

and having its appropriate attitude. By touching a secret spring the case

opened and exposed to view a very beautifully-painted miniature of the

unfortunate Charles, with the pointed beard, mustachios, etc., as he is

usually portrayed, and, from its resemblance to the portraits generally

seen of the monarch, having every appearance of being a strong likeness.

Within the lid of this little box (for box, in fact, it was) were

enamelled, on a dark ground, a skull and cross-bones.’

Mr. Howe, master-gunner at the castle of Carisbrooke, had a little son,

who was a great favourite of the unfortunate Charles. One day, seeing him

with a sword at his side, the King asked him what he intended doing with

it. ‘To defend your Majesty from your Majesty’s enemies,’ was the reply,

which so pleased the King that he gave the child the signet-ring he was

wearing. It has descended to Mr. Wallace, of Southsea, a kinsman of Mr.

Cooke, of Newport, who belonged to the Howe family.

[Illustration: Royalist memorial ring.]

In Lockhart’s ‘Life of Scott’ it is stated that Sir Henry Halford gave Sir

Walter Scott a lock of the hair of Charles I., when the royal martyr’s

remains were discovered at Windsor, April 1813. Sir John Malcolm gave him

some Indian coins to supply virgin gold for the setting of this relic,

and, for some years, Sir Walter constantly wore this ring, which had the

word ‘Remember’ embossed upon it.

[Illustration: Memorial ring of Charles I.]

Miss Gerard is in possession of a memorial gold ring which is stated to

have been given to Bishop Juxon by Charles I., on the scaffold, since

which period it has been preserved as an heirloom in the family of the

present owner. The ring appears to resemble those of the period of Henry

VIII. It is described and engraved in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for

October 1797. The bezel is hexagonal, with death’s-head in white enamel on

black ground, surrounded by the legend ‘BEHOLD . THE . ENDE;’ round the

edge is the motto ‘RATHER . DEATH . THEN . FALS . FAITH.’ At the back the

initials ‘M’ and ‘L’ tied with a mourning ribbon.

This interesting ‘memorial’ was exhibited at the Loan Exhibition of

Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum in 1872.

In the Braybrooke Collection is one of the Royalist mourning-rings, of

gold, with slight hoop beautifully inlaid with black enamel, the top

surmounted by an oval box three quarters of an inch long, the sides of

which are ornamented with perpendicular ovals of black and white enamel

alternately. The inside or under part of the box is inlaid with fifteen

longer ovals in a similar manner, round a black centre, in imitation of a

sun-flower. The box contains a large and beautifully-painted portrait of

Charles I. on blue enamel ground, over a surface as large as half an

acorn. The base of this is bound by a narrow band of plain gold. Lord

Braybrooke described this ring as one of the most beautiful he had seen,

and, besides the superiority of the workmanship, the likeness is well

preserved.

In the same collection is a Royalist gold mourning-ring with black enamel

inlaid upon the shoulders of the hoop and also upon the circular box on

the top, which contains a sort of love-knot, or possibly intended for the

royal cipher, below a cut crystal setting.

After the execution of Dr. John Hewett, chaplain to Charles I., and the

object of Cromwell’s vindictive cruelty, a mourning-ring inscribed

‘Herodes necuit Johannem,’ was worn by the Royalists.

The mourning-ring for King Charles II. bore the inscription ‘Chs. Rex.

Remem.--obiit--ber.: 6th Feb. 1685.’

In the Waterton Collection at the South Kensington Museum is a memorial

gold ring, with oval bezel set with crystal, beneath which is a crown with

the initials ‘C. R. K. B.’ in gold, over hair (Charles II. and Catharine

of Braganza). English. Date about 1685. Diameter, nine-tenths of an inch.

Devices illustrative of death have frequently formed the subjects of

mourning-rings. Among some antiquities found in Sussex, and exhibited at

the Society of Antiquaries in March 1866, was the fragment of a

mourning-ring set with a coffin-shaped crystal, on which was delicately

engraved a skeleton.

In the Braybrooke Collection is a gold ring of about the end of the

sixteenth or beginning of the seventeenth century, with a hexagonal

tablet, which is inlaid with a white stone engraved with a death’s-head;

round it on the gold are engraved the words ‘Dye to Live.’[68]

In the same collection is a ‘memento mori’ ring, of bronze, with a tablet

on the hoop, half an inch square, and edges serrated; a death’s-head is

engraved upon it with the above inscription. Rings with the same device

and words are alluded to by Beaumont and Fletcher in the ‘Chances:’

I’ll keep it as they keep death’s-heads in rings,

To cry ‘memento’ to me.

Rings engraved with skulls and skeletons were not, however, necessarily

mourning-rings, but were worn also by persons who affected gravity. Luther

wore a gold ring with a small death’s-head in enamel, which is now

preserved in Dresden (see ‘Remarkable Rings’). Biron, in ‘Love’s Labour’s

Lost,’ refers to ‘a death’s face in a ring.’

Mr. Fairholt describes a ring on which two figures of skeletons surround

the finger and support a small sarcophagus. The ring is of gold,

enamelled, the skeletons being made still more hideous by a covering of

white enamel. The lid of the sarcophagus is also enamelled, with a Maltese

cross in red on a black ground studded with gilt hearts. This lid is made

to slide off and display a very minute skeleton lying within

(Londesborough Collection).

In the ‘Recueil des Ouvrages d’Orfévrerie,’ by Gilles l’Egaré, published

in the early part of the reign of Louis XIV., is an unusually good design

for a mourning-ring with skull decorations.

In the Londesborough Collection is a fine specimen of a mourning-ring of

the early part of the last century.

[Illustration: Memorial and mortuary rings.]

In digging a grave in or near Ripon some years ago a sexton discovered an

ancient signet-ring, on which was engraved a dormouse coiled up in sleep,

with an inscription around it, in black-letter characters, ‘Wake me no

man.’ A similar ring is said to have been turned up in a churchyard near

Scarborough.

At a meeting of the Royal Archæological Institute in April 1875, Mr.

Fortnum, F.S.A., exhibited a mourning-ring of Queen Anne, the bezel of

which is formed as a coffin, containing a mat of the Queen’s hair, over

which are the crowned initials A. R., and a death’s-head and cross-bones

beneath a piece of crystal. The hoop is enamelled black, with the

inscription ‘ANNA . REGINA . PIA . FELIX,’ in letters of gold; inside is

engraved, ‘Nat. 5 Feb. 1664. Inaug. 8 March 1702. Obt. 1 August 1714.’

In the Braybrooke Collection is a small and delicate lady’s gold

mourning-ring, in memory of Queen Mary, wife of William III. The hoop,

which is very slight, is inlaid upon the shoulders with black enamel and

surmounted by a square box for setting, ornamented with perpendicular

lines of the same down the sides. The box contains a tress of the deceased

Queen’s hair, plaited, with ‘M. R.’ and a crown in small gold ciphers laid

over it. A crystal, cut into facets, encloses them. The under side of the

box has a death’s-head and cross-bones inlaid in black enamel.

In the same collection is a gold mourning-ring, inscribed, in letters of

gold on black enamel, ‘Gulielmus III. Rex., 1702.’ After the ‘Rex.’ is a

death’s-head of gold. It is a slight gold hoop with a silver frame on the

summit, set round with six small pearls, and made to imitate a buckle with

a gold tongue across it, so that the band of it, visible below, resembles

the garter.

In the collection of the late Lady Fellows was an ivory patch-box, with

figure-subject carved in relief, formerly belonging to the unfortunate

Queen Marie Antoinette, and containing a small gold ring, given by her to

one of her attendants.

Pope bequeathed sums of five pounds to friends, who were to lay them out

in rings; and Gray, the poet, in his will, gives an amount of stock to

Richard Stonehewer, adding: ‘And I beg his acceptance of one of my

diamond rings.’ The same bequest is given to Dr. Thomas Warton of a

diamond ring and five hundred pounds. To his cousins he leaves his

watches, rings, etc.

A touching instance of ‘memorial’ rings occurs in late times. The Princess

Amelia, before her death, in 1810, had the sad satisfaction of placing on

the finger of her royal father, George III., a ring made by her own

directions for the express purpose, containing a small lock of her hair

enclosed under a crystal tablet, set round with a few sparks of diamonds.

This memorial of affection, given almost on her death-bed, hastened the

attack of the mental disorder from which the King had suffered so much

about twenty years before. The circumstances attending this gift were very

affecting; she held the ring in her hand at the time of her father’s

accustomed visit, and, while placing it on his finger, said, ‘Take this in

remembrance of me.’

This affecting incident was commemorated by Dr. Wolcot in some elegant

lines, very different to his usual compositions:--

With all the virtues blest, and every grace

To charm the world and dignify the race,

Life’s taper losing fast its feeble fire,

The fair Amelia thus bespoke her sire:

‘Faint on the bed of sickness lying,

My spirit from its mansion flying.

Not long the light these languid eyes will see,

My friend, my father, and my king,

Receive the token and remember me!’

Lord Eldon wore a mourning-ring in memory of his wife, and desired in his

will that it might be buried with him.

A very interesting memorial ring in connection with the death of Nelson is

mentioned in a communication to ‘Notes and Queries’ (vol. vii. 1st

series, p. 305). Mr. Nicholls, of Pelsall, Staffordshire, writes: ‘I am in

possession of a ring which in place of a stone has a metal basso-relievo

representation of Nelson (half-bust). The inscription inside the ring is

as follows: “A gift to T. Moon from G. L. Stoppleberg, 1815.” The late Mr.

Thomas Moon was an eminent merchant of Leeds, and the writer has always

understood that the ring referred to, is one of three or half a dozen

which were made subsequently to Nelson’s death. The metal (blackish in

appearance) forming the basso-relievo, set in them, being in reality

portions of the ball which gave the late lamented and immortal admiral his

fatal wound at Trafalgar.’

Another memorial ring of the greatest of our naval commanders is described

in ‘Notes and Queries’ (4th series, vol. x. p. 292) as belonging to a lady

whose husband’s father’s aunt married Earl Nelson (a clergyman), and whose

husband inherited the ring. ‘It is of gold; on the bezel, a broad oblong

with rounded corners, is a black enamelled field, surrounded by a white

border. In coloured enamel on the field appear two coronets, one that of a

viscount, with the velvet cap, but showing, however, only seven pearls,

the letter “N,” in Old English character, appearing underneath. The second

coronet is a British ducal one, without the cap, and has under it the

letter “B” in old English. Beneath the above runs in Roman capitals the

word “Trafalgar.” Round the broad hoop of the ring is incised, in Roman

capitals, “Palmam qui meruit ferat,” the hero’s motto, and inside the

bezel, in English cursive characters, “Lost to his country 21 Oct 1805.

Aged 47.”’

Of course, the coronets and letters ‘N’ and ‘B’ refer to the titles Nelson

and Bronté, but the heraldic insignia were evidently not executed by an

adept. The case in which this ring is lodged appears to be the original

one, and has on a printed oval label ‘Sa’ (the rest wanting, probably

‘ms’), ‘Jew’ (rest, of course, ‘eller’), ‘Silversmith, and Cutleer, 35,

Strand.’

On the subject of Nelson memorial rings, the Rev. Dr. Gatty, in ‘Notes and

Queries’ (4th series, vol. x. p. 356), says: ‘I do not think these rings

can be very uncommon, and I have no doubt that Sir Thomas Hardy and other

officers serving under Lord Nelson received one. My wife, who is a

daughter of the Rev. A. J. Scott, D.D., Nelson’s chaplain and foreign

secretary on the “Victory,” has one in her possession, which was sent to

her father, and to whom Lord Nelson left a legacy of 200_l._ Our friend

Mrs. Mirehouse, a daughter of the late Bishop Fisher of Salisbury, has

also a similar ring. We have always thought they were given, after the old

fashion of “mourning” rings. The pattern is certainly handsome and

tasteful.’

Mr. H. S. Williams, F.R.H.S., writing to the editor of ‘Notes and Queries’

(4th series, vol. x. p. 441), remarks that rings (with the Viscount’s

coronet with ‘N’ beneath it for the title Viscount Nelson, the ducal

coronet, that of Sicily, for the Bronté estate and dukedom) of this

description were made in 1806 by Lord Nelson’s private friend Salter,

jeweller in the Strand, and by the order of Dr. William Nelson, who was

then Earl Nelson. There were fully a hundred of these rings originally

made, as every admiral and post captain, then living, who was present at

the Battle of Trafalgar had one, as well as every member of the Nelson,

Bolton, and Matcham families.

The custom of decorating the dead with their jewellery (including rings)

has been traced in a remarkable manner to the earliest periods of the

world’s history. In Genesis xli. 56, 57, we read: ‘The famine was over all

the face of the earth, and Joseph opened all the storehouses, and sold

unto all the Egyptians; and the famine waxed sore in the land of Egypt.

And _all countries_ came into Egypt for to buy corn, because that the

famine was so sore in all lands.’

But Joseph could not empty the storehouses of Egypt to satisfy the

cravings of all lands, nor sell away the bread of Egypt at any price when

money became less precious than bread.

Such was the state of things when an Arabian princess in Yemen wrote, or

when in her name were written, to be inscribed on her sepulchre, some

impressive lines. Ebn Hesham relates that a flood of rain had laid bare a

sepulchre in Yemen, in which lay a woman having on her neck seven collars

of pearls, and on her hands and feet bracelets and armlets, and

ankle-rings, seven on each, _and on every finger a ring in which was set a

jewel of great price_, and at her head a coffer filled with treasure, and

a tablet with an inscription thus translated by Mr. Forster:--

In thy name, O God, the God of Himyar,

I, Tajah, the daughter of Dzu Shefar, sent my servant to Joseph,

And he delaying to return to me, I sent my handmaid,

With a measure of silver, to bring me back a measure of flour:

And not being able to procure it, I sent her with a measure of gold:

And not being able to procure it, I commanded them to the ground:

And finding no profit in them, I am shut up here.

Whosoever may hear of it, let him commiserate me;

And should any woman adorn herself with an ornament

From my ornaments, may she die with no other than my death.

Inexorable with the Arabian princess, severe with his own brethren, proof

against the blandishments of Potiphar’s wife, yet susceptible of every

pure and generous affection, this saviour of Egypt was ever consistent

with himself.[69]

This Biblical monument confirms in a remarkable manner the truth of the

Old Testament history.

In opening ancient sepulchral barrows plain or jewelled rings have in many

instances been found, which, perhaps, a widowed wife or widower took from

their fingers, and flung, in the intensity of their grief, into the graves

of those they mourned. A modern instance of this is given in the ‘Times’

of October 28, 1865, when, at the funeral of Lord Palmerston in

Westminster Abbey, the chief mourner, the Rev. Mr. Sullivan, as ‘a

precious offering to the dead,’ threw into the grave several diamond and

gold rings. Small rings are frequently met with on the breasts of mummies.

At the excavations at Veii and Præneste, by Padre Raffaele Garucchi, a

great quantity of tiny rings of yellow and blue enamel were found, of a

similar character to those mentioned.

It was customary among the Anglo-Saxons to place rings and other ornaments

in the grave: an early Anglo-Saxon poem, recounting the adventures of the

chieftain Beowulf and his burial, states ‘they put into the mound rings

and bright gems.’

The custom of burying corpses with a ring on the finger continued for

ages, as I have remarked in several chapters of this work. Annexed is an

illustration, from the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. ii. p. 32, 1773), of a ring

with seventy-five table-diamonds, set in gold, found in 1748 in a grave at

Carne, seven miles west of Mullinghar, in the county of Westmeath,

Ireland.

[Illustration: Squared-work diamond ring found in Ireland.]

In the antiquarian researches in the Ionian Isles in 1812 (‘Archæologia,’

vol. xxxiii.) some rings were discovered in tombs at Samo and Ithaca. One

of these appears to have been a silver finger-ring, or signet, bearing on

the upper part an elliptic piece of glass or crystal, in a state of

decomposition, turning on the wire that passes through it.

The other is a gold ring of solid fabric, having for device the figure of

a female with a bare head; one arm is enveloped in the folds of her dress,

while the other hand is pouring incense on a slender altar. A zigzag

garland surrounds the verge of the field. The locality would suggest that

it may represent Penelope sacrificing to some tutelar deity, and invoking

it to conduct Ulysses home in safety--a conceit which might hold good,

even were the work decided to be Roman.

There are some remarkably fine specimens of rings in the Royal Danish

Museum, which have been discovered in Scandinavian graves, and some of

which are represented in the chapter on ‘Rings from the Earliest Period’

(p. 68).

On the opening of some barrows on the wolds of Yorkshire in 1815, 1816,

and 1817, among other disinterments was the skeleton of a female, and some

of her ornaments; amongst others, a ring of red amber, in exterior

diameter 1⅝ in., in interior diameter half an inch. Also a small ring

scarcely one inch in diameter, and a ring of very nearly standard gold,

weighing 3 dwts. 21 grs. In front this ring is clasped in a kind of rose,

or quatrefoil, and it is an ornament by no means of despicable

workmanship. The era of this interment is supposed to be prior to a

general extension of Christianity in Britain.

Stukeley (Abury, p. 45) records the finding of a flat gold ring in a

barrow at Yatesbury. Douglas, in his discoveries of a later date (‘Nenia

Brit.’ p. 117), says ‘rings to the finger seldom occur of any ponderous

metal, like the Roman ones of gold, silver, and bronze.’

In the museum at Mayence (the Roman Maguntiacum, or Mogontiacum), so

exceedingly rich in antiquarian remains, there are some fine specimens of

finger-rings found in Franconian graves. The following illustration

represents a gold ring, set with a coin, which is probably the copy of a

Roman one:--

[Illustration: Mortuary ring at Mayence.]

In the second cut the inscription of the reverse, excepting a few letters,

is erased in the process of fastening the ring to it, by the melting of

the metal.

[Illustration: Mortuary ring at Mayence.]

A metal ring with inscription translated ‘In Dei nomine, Amen.’

A gold finger-ring with a figure in the centre of the shield; the

ornaments of dragons on the outer panels are inlaid with dark blue

enamel:--

[Illustration: Mortuary ring at Mayence.]

In ancient times rings were burnt with the corpse. When Cynthia’s shade

appears to Propertius, he remarks: ‘Et solitam digito adederat ignis;’ ‘a

fact (remarks the Rev. C. W. King) which fully accounts for the number of

fine intagli partly or wholly calcined which every collector meets with

not unfrequently, and often with the greatest regret at the destruction of

some matchless specimen of the skill of the engraver.’

At the burial of Cæsar we are told that, among the tokens of grief

exhibited by the Romans, the matrons burned on his funeral pyre their

personal ornaments, the robes and even the rings of their sons.

‘The Greeks and Romans,’ observes Mr. Fairholt, ‘literally revelled in

rings of all styles and sizes. Nothing can be more beautiful in design and

exquisite in finish than Greek jewellery; and the custom of decorating

their dead with the most valued of these ornaments has furnished modern

museums with an abundance of fine specimens.’

The two rings next represented are copied from originals found in the more

modern Etruscan sepulchres, and are probably contemporary with the

earliest days of the Roman Empire.

In one of these rings the hoop is not perfected, each extremity ending in

a broad, leaf-shaped ornament, most delicately banded with threads of

beaded and twisted wire, acting as a brace upon the finger.

[Illustration: Gold rings from Etruscan sepulchres.]

Lord Braybrooke purchased in 1849 a Roman gold finger-ring, set with an

intaglio in ribbon onyx, which was found in a Roman stone coffin at York:

subject, a Fortuna Redux. In the same collection is a very curious and

massive gold mourning-ring formed of two knotted withes twisted together;

the knots are hollowed to receive enamel. The inscription inside the hoop

is, in old English characters: ‘When ye loke on thys, thyncke on hym who

gave ye thys.’ This ring was found in the Thames at Westminster.

[Illustration: Ring found at Amiens.]

In the Londesborough Collection is the representation of a ring found upon

the hand of a lady’s skeleton, who was buried with her child in a

sarcophagus discovered in 1846 in a field near Amiens, called ‘Le Camp de

César;’ on two of her fingers were rings, one of which was set with ten

round pearls, the other, represented in the collection mentioned, is of

gold, in which is set a red cornelian, engraved with a rude representation

of Jupiter riding on the goat Amalthea. The child also wore a ring, with

an engraved stone. The whole of the decorations for the person found in

this tomb proclaim themselves late Roman work, probably of the time of

Diocletian.

It is customary in Russia on the death of a sovereign to distribute

mourning-rings to those connected with the imperial court. A writer in

‘Notes and Queries’ (4th series, vol. iii. p. 322) remarks: ‘When I was at

St. Petersburg, I saw one of the rings given on the death of the late

Emperor Nicholas. They were in the form of a serpent, enamelled black.

Attached to the head and within the body of the ring was a narrow band of

metal inscribed with the name of Nicholas, and the date of his death. This

band was held within by a spring, in the same way as a spring

measuring-tape. The serpent’s head was mounted with two diamonds for eyes.

The ring I saw was presented to the gentleman in whose possession it then

was by reason of his official appointment of dentist to the imperial

family.’

In early times it was usual to bury sovereigns with their rings. During

some repairs at Winchester Cathedral in 1768 a monument was discovered

containing the body of King Canute. On his forefinger was a ring

containing a very fine stone.

In the ‘Archæologia’ (vol. xlii. part ii. p. 309) is an account, by the

Rev. J. G. Joyce, B.A., F.S.A., of the opening and removal of a tomb in

Winchester Cathedral in 1868, reported to be that of King William Rufus.

Gale, in his ‘History of Winchester,’ states that the tomb was broken open

during the civil wars, and amongst other articles found was a large gold

ring. The body of Rufus, however, had been removed out of the tomb in

which it had originally lain (whether this or another) many years before

the civil wars broke out. Stow gives this testimony, and an inscription

upon a mortuary chest into which the bones of Rufus were translated

(1525), and which inscription was repeated a second time (1661). There is

reason for doubting whether this ring really belonged to King Rufus, and

that the tomb supposed to be that of the King is that of an ecclesiastical

dignitary. The Rev. J. G. Joyce adds: ‘I have not dwelt upon the ring,

because, while Milner, after Gale, alleges such a ring to have been taken

out of the tomb by the rebels, it is open to uncertainty whether this be

actually the one, and if so it was assuredly in company with the chalice

(found with the ring), and so makes against Rufus, and in favour of a more

saintly occupant.’

The ring known as that found in this tomb is not of gold, but of bronze

gilt. It is apparently intended for the thumb, very coarsely executed, and

has a plain square imitation jewel, which is a very poor copy of a

sapphire. A representation of this and another ring from tombs in

Winchester Cathedral are here given, from Woodward and Wilks’ ‘History of

Hampshire’ (London, 1858-69).

[Illustration: Ring found in the tomb of William Rufus, Winchester

Cathedral.]

[Illustration: Ring discovered at Winchester Cathedral.]

According to Matthew Paris, Henry II. was arrayed after death in his royal

vestments, having a golden crown on his head and a great ring on the

finger. The will of Richard II. directs that he should be buried with a

ring, _according to royal custom_. The same monarch, as Grafton states,

caused the dead body of Robert de Vere, Duke of Ireland, to be arrayed in

princely garments, garnished with a chain of gold, and rich rings put on

his fingers, with his face uncovered.

As an instance of royal interments with a ring at a late period, I may

mention that of William Frederic, Duke of Gloucester, who married his

cousin the Princess Mary, daughter of George III. He was buried in his

uniform, and wore on his finger a ring which had been an early love-gift

to him from the Princess whom he married.

[Illustration: Ring of Childeric.]

In 1562 the Calvinists rifled the tomb of Queen Matilda, consort of

William the Conqueror, in the church of the Holy Trinity at Caen. One of

the party observed a gold ring with a sapphire on one of the Queen’s

fingers, and, taking it off, presented it to the Abbess of Montmorenci.

The same custom of monarchs being buried with their rings prevailed in

France during the early and middle ages. The gold ring of Childeric I.,

formerly in the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris, was found in the King’s

tomb at Tournay. It bore the inscription ‘Childirici regis.’[70]

‘The ring was not set with a gem, but had an oval bezel in the gold,

engraved with his bust in front face, holding a spear as in the type of

the contemporary Byzantine aurei. He wore the long hair of the Merovingian

line. Traces remained of the legend ‘Childirici Regis.’ The intaglio was

very neatly cut, infinitely superior to the execution of the Merovingian

coin-dies, and, in fact, so much in the style of Leo’s aurei, that it

might reasonably be supposed a present sent, with other offerings, from

Constantinople’ (the Rev. C. W. King, ‘Handbook of Engraved Gems’). The

engraving is taken from J. J. Chiflet’s ‘Anastasis.’

In 1793, at the exhumation of the bodies buried at the Abbey of St. Denis,

rings were found in several of the royal tombs. That of Jeanne de Bourbon,

consort of Charles V., was of gold, with the remains of bracelets and

chains. The ring of Philippe le Bel was also of gold; that of Jeanne de

Bourgoyne, first wife of Philippe de Valois, was of silver, as also the

ring of Charles le Bel.

To the ancient custom of interring prelates with their rings I have

alluded in the chapter on ‘Rings in Connection with Ecclesiastical

Usages.’

In 1780 the tomb of the great German Emperor Frederic, who died in 1250,

was opened, and the body discovered arrayed in embroidered robes, booted,

spurred, and crowned. A costly emerald ring was on one of the fingers,

and the ball and sceptre in the hands.

Some interesting ‘memorial’ rings were shown at the Loan Exhibition of

Ancient and Modern Jewellery at the South Kensington Museum in 1872, the

principal of which I have already mentioned. One of gold, oval bezel, set

round with amethysts, had, beneath glass, a representation of a fallen

tree, and a funeral urn with initials; the motto, ‘Fallen to rise;’ date,

1779; the property of Mr. G. F. Duncombe. Dr. Ashford exhibited a memorial

gold ring, hasp enamelled on the outside in black, with figure of a

skeleton and funereal emblems. Date, 1715. Five rings belonging to Mrs. M.

E. Vere Booth Powell; one of gold, oval bezel set round with rubies, in

the centre an urn jewelled with diamonds beneath a weeping willow; dated

at back 1779. A ring with a long, pointed, oval bezel, with miniature of a

female figure seated beside an inscribed pedestal, on which is an urn;

date, 1788. Another of a similar form, with miniature of an old man

holding a skull, seated near a Gothic building; inscribed, ‘Omnia

vanitas;’ 1782. A duplicate of this ring, undated. A ring with long

eight-sided bezel, gold, with dark-blue translucent enamel; in the centre

an urn set with diamonds; dated 1790. A gold ring, bezel set with portrait

of Charles I.; the property of the Rev. W. B. Hawkins. A massive gold

ring, enamelled and set with sapphire, engraved inside, ‘Napoleon

Buonaparte à Joachim Murat,’ 1809; exhibited by Mr. George Bonnor. A gold

ring, richly chased and enamelled in black, the bezel square, with rounded

top, which opens, showing within a representation of a corpse; Italian,

sixteenth century; the property of Dr. Ashford. A gold ring, in the centre

of which is a death’s-head in enamel, with the legend ‘Memento mori’ in

enamelled black letters; sixteenth century. Also, a gold ring with bezel

hollow; has had upon it a death’s-head in enamel, inscribed ‘Remember

Death;’ round the edge of the bezel is ‘Yeman + + joyce;’ early sixteenth

century. A gold ring, hexagonal bezel with motto ‘Death * sy * myn *

eritag +’; sixteenth century. The last three rings were exhibited by R. H.

Soden Smith, Esq., F.S.A. Memorial ring with portrait of Augustus III.,

son of Augustus the Strong, King of Poland and Saxony; early eighteenth

century. Another with enamelled skull, set with diamonds, probably German

of the seventeenth century; also, one of the same date, enamelled, with

skull and female face. The property of C. Drury Fortnum, Esq., F.S.A.

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