THE MATERIALS OF RINGS

Ring whittling or carving is a favorite occupation of sailors and young boys. Many interesting rings have been carved by them out of peach pits, flexible ivory, cocoanut shells, gutta percha, walrus ivory, boxwood, whale’s teeth and many other substances. These are frequently incised with the initials of the wearer or the one to whom the ring is to be presented. Then again, pins are cut off and the upper part driven into the hoop, in such a way that the head of the pin appears as a beading; often metallic points are added. Other rings are carved with hearts, folded hands and other symbols of sentiment.

As a ring is necessary in marriage it has occasionally happened when no precious metal was available in hasty marriages, or out of economy, that a curtain ring, taken from the church curtain, has been used.

Memory rings, of threads wound around the finger, have often been employed. Sometimes these are made of cord or yarn, and each ring is supposed to represent one object to be remembered, and to be purchased, or delivered at the final place of destination. The writer distinctly remembers seeing an old man nearly 90 years of age, wearing a waistcoat older than himself, and with at least twenty strings of different colors and variety on his fingers. He trudged a distance of six miles to the nearest village and had been instructed not to return until he had purchased or obtained the object meant by each string. This memorizing by cords or strands has been practised by many primitive peoples who had not developed any system of writing, a well-known instance being the wampum records of some of our North American Indian tribes.

To the famous episode of the descent of the life-goddess Ishtar to the infernal regions, forming part of the great Babylonian poem known as the “Gilgamesh Epic,” have been appended a few lines suggesting an idea distantly resembling that in the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. A mourner who seeks to release a loved one from the Realm of Death, is told to address himself to Tammuz (= Adonis). A festival garment is to be put on the god’s statue to induce him “to play on the flute of lapis-lazuli,” with a ring of porphyry. This divine music was believed to arouse the dead and call them to inhale the fragrance of the incense offering prepared for them.[154] The “porphyry ring” for playing the musical instrument might seem to indicate that it was some form of lyre, on which the ring could be used as a kind of plectrum, rather than a flute or other wind-instrument.

Rings made entirely of a precious stone substance were not uncommon in the time of Rameses III (1202–1170 B.C.) and later Egyptian sovereigns, but there is no evidence of their having been made at a more remote period. The prejudice against burying rings with the dead does not seem to have affected the Egyptians, for in a number of cases rings have been found on the fingers of mummies.[155]

The sardonyx was a favorite stone with the Romans of the Imperial Age, as is proved by the frequent allusions to it by the poets of this time. Of a celebrated player on the lyre, Juvenal (50–130 A.D.) says that as his hand passed over the strings the whole instrument was lighted up by the sheen of his many sardonyx rings.[156] Such a ring was regarded as a most appropriate birthday gift.[157] Another passage relates that the advocate Paulus, in order to render his address before the court more impressive, wore upon his hand a fine onyx ring which he had borrowed from a friend especially for this occasion.[158] Indeed, so highly was the stone prized that it was called the first of gems (gemma princeps sardonychus) and ivory caskets were regarded as fit receptacles for sardonyxes.[159] The value of rings set with them is shown by the fact that in Hadrian’s (76–138 A.D.) time, they were expressly associated with the gems of greatest value, such being strictly differentiated from those worth but four gold pieces each.[160]

Several rings of the Later Roman period in the British Museum are set with small diamonds. Of these the following are believed to represent original settings:[161]

No. 779. Plain solid hoop with sides cut flat. It is set with a small pointed diamond. Castellani Coll., 1872.

No. 785. Thin rounded hoop, slightly expanding upwards. Pointed diamond in raised oblong setting. From Tartûs. Franks Bequest, 1897.

No. 787. Angular hoop, projecting sharply below the shoulders, which are in the form of hollow leaves within a triangular frame. The bezel is square and contains an octahedral diamond; the sides are open and form a kind of wave pattern. Castellani Coll., 1872. 3rd century, A.D.

No. 788. Type akin to last. On either shoulder is an openwork triangle. The bezel is square and contains an octahedral diamond; on either side of the bezel is a small openwork triangle.

No. 789. Type akin to last. The lower part of the hoop has a groove running along its middle; either shoulder is cut away in a slight curve. The bezel is square, with a triangular space left open in each side and with a round opening below. It contains a diamond of octahedral form. Franks Bequest, 1897.

No. 790. Type akin to last. The hoop is rounded without; the curved excision of the shoulders is more pronounced. Two double pyramid-shaped (octahedral) diamonds are set in the bezel. A triangle is cut out of either shoulder, and two smaller triangles on either side of the bezel. Underneath the stone are two lozenge-shaped openings. Franks Bequest, 1897.

PORTRAIT OF AN UNKNOWN MAN IN THE COSTUME OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY, BY ANTONIO DEL POLLAIOLO

He holds between the thumb and index of his left hand a ring set with a naturally pointed diamond crystal

Galleria Corsini, Florence

PORTRAIT OF A VENETIAN SENATOR, BY A. DA SOLARIO

Seal ring on thumb of left hand

National Gallery, London

In all these cases the diamond is a small natural crystal of octahedral form suggesting the “diamond, a point of a stone,” of which the astronomer Manilius wrote in the first century, and, perhaps, the diamond in Berenice’s ring mentioned in the same period by the satirist Juvenal. Another ring in the British Museum, however, is set with two facetted diamonds, as well as with two other stones (No. 778 of catalogue, Plate xx, same number). Here the diamonds have unquestionably been set at a time long posterior to the making of the ring, which is believed to belong, approximately, to the same period as the others we have listed. The diamonds were probably inserted to replace two of the original stones that had fallen out of their settings.

Sir Charles Hercules Read pronounces the instances of diamond settings in ancient rings to be exceeding rare. He states that the examples above noted are the only ones of which he knows, and considers that they belong to the third or fourth century of our era.[162]

The famous Marlborough collection of gems includes a thumb ring entirely of sapphire. To give this stone ring the necessary resisting power, it has been lined with a thick hoop of gold. The engraving it bears, a head of the Elder Faustina, the wife of Antoninus Pius (86–161 A.D.), is believed to replace an original Arabic inscription that fitted this ring for use as a seal.[163]

Rings entirely of precious-stone material, or “hololith” rings, have been found at Mycenæ, one of jasper and another of rock-crystal, and a carnelian ring was discovered in a tomb in southern Russia. Each of these bears an engraved design. Two carnelian rings are in the British Museum.

Chalcedony rings, that is, rings entirely formed of this stone, while quite rare, are represented by a few specimens. We describe elsewhere the so-called betrothal ring of the Virgin at Perugia,[164] and the British Museum has a large example of a chalcedony ring, with the hoop rounded on the outer side, and a raised bezel that has been roughly cut so as to indicate a human head, some scratches marking the hair. The work is late Roman and the inscription shows that it was made for some adherent of the Gnostic sect.[165]

A large ring, entirely of rock crystal, shows on the oval flattened surface of the upper part a curious combination of the “Tau Cross,” with superposed “chrisma,” and with a serpent twined about it, recalling the brazen serpent of Moses, the view of which restored health to the diseased; the Greek letters, alpha and omega, “the beginning and the end,” complete this interlacing of Old and New Testament emblems; the doves facing the cross are the faithful to whom the Cross of Christ brings salvation.[166] Another entire crystal ring bears on its flat face a design of somewhat similar import, with, however, the curious difference that the lower end of the cross is supported on a little Cupid, on either side of which figure is a dove.[167]

The jewels of the Mogul emperors were the most splendid in the world, but few have survived intact to our time, as nearly all were broken up by the spoilers of the Mogul Empire. However, one of the few that have been preserved for us is a most interesting illustration of the type of ring favored in that age and region. This is one made for Jehangir Shah, the father of Shah Jehan, for whom was erected the wonderful Taj Mahal at Agra, a memorial of his dearly beloved wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died in 1629. It is about 1¼ inches in diameter and is cut out of a solid emerald of exceptional purity and beauty of color; from the ring proper depend two fine emerald drops, while set in two collets are rose diamonds with ruby bordering. Jehangir’s name is engraved on the hoop. This ring was probably carried off by Nadir Shah at the looting of Delhi in 1739, and after remaining in the Persian treasury for a few years found its way, with other gems and jewels plundered from the Moguls, into the hands of the Afghan chiefs. One of these, the unfortunate Shah Shujah, in the course of his wanderings after he had been blinded and deprived of his throne by a brother, finally sought and found refuge under the protection of the British East India Company, and as a token of gratitude, or as a slight quid pro quo, he gave this historic ring to the company. After having been acquired by Lord Auckland, it passed into the hands of the Hon. Miss Eden. This is probably the very finest specimen of the rare type of hololith rings, or rings entirely consisting of a single precious-stone material.[168]

For those who believed in the magic virtues of precious stones, a ring of this kind would possess much greater efficacy than would a metal ring set with the stone, as in the former case the substance when worn would always be in direct contact with the skin of the wearer. Jehangir also owned an entire ruby ring given him by Shaikh Farid-i-Bukhari, and valued at 25,000 rupees (about $12,500). In modern times, the Burmese ambassador to the court of Persia is said to have brought with him, as a gift to the Shah, a ring cut out of a solid ruby of the finest color.[169]

One of the most remarkable archers’ rings was engraved out of a single piece of emerald. It is an example of the type which is narrow at one end, tapering to a broad edge at the other. It is of a beautiful green emerald and very handsomely engraved. This ring was probably made for the Mogul Emperor Shah Jehan, about 1650. It was part of Nadir Shah’s share of the booty from the sack of Delhi in 1739, and this Persian adventurer had the following inscription engraved upon it in Persian characters: “For a bow for the King of Kings, Nadir, Lord of the Conjunction, at the subjugation of India, from the Jewel-house [at Delhi] it was selected 1152 [1739 A.D.]”. The luckless Shah Shuja gave it to Runjit Singh, the Lion of the Panjab, in 1813, when he took refuge at the latter’s court at Lahore. At the end of the second Sikh war in 1849 it was found with the regalia in the royal treasury of Lahore. This splendid ring once owned by Lord Dalhousie, was sold at Edinburgh in 1898; it came into the possession of W. H. Broun, Esq., and is now one of the gems of a private collection in Philadelphia.[170]

In past times the Shahs of Persia have passed ordinances restricting the exportation of turquoise. Regarding this precious stone as peculiarly Persian and for the furthering of Persian goldsmiths, it was enacted that no unset turquoises should be exported; as a rule the settings were in rings, these being easily transported, since a great number of them could be strung together. Sometimes a prospective purchaser was permitted to test the quality of a string of turquoise rings by wearing a bunch of them for a while under his arm-pit, to see whether the stones would change color. Although some failed to endure this rather severe test, many withstood it successfully.

The entire circlet of certain of the finest turquoise rings was of pierced gold enriched with rose diamonds; other, less valuable turquoises have been set in fine gold rings, carved or plain, and those of the next lower value, in ornamented silver. The cheaper sort ranged in price all the way from one cent to a few dollars, and were often set in rings made of tin, or of tinned iron, the hoop costing but two cents. The stones were always cut irregularly en cabochon, the form being frequently quite pleasing; if the turquoise were thin the back was coated with pitch to bring out the color, and on the surface was engraved some short formula from the Koran, such as “Allah be praised!” or “Allah is great!” Occasionally the Shah’s portrait was the subject.

In the Roman world entire rings of yellow amber were sometimes formed, and in a few instances figures or heads have been engraved in relief upon the chaton. Their execution need not have presented any greater difficulty than did the carving of the many small amber figures which have come down to us from ancient times. A carved amber ring in the Franks Bequest of the British Museum is beautifully formed with full-relief figures of Venus and of Cupid on either side. It is cut out of a single piece of amber, and is considered to be the finest example extant of Roman carving in that material,[171] but unfortunately is considerably damaged.

Pliny declares that in his time amber ornaments were almost exclusively for women’s wear; indeed, a few years later, Artemidorus, in his “Oneirocritica,” an interpretation of dreams, after saying that amber and ivory rings were only appropriate for women, proceeds to assert that this was true of all kinds of rings.[172] There are but a very few ivory rings in the British Museum, although the collection includes several bone rings, probably for wear on the thumb. The relief-carving of masks has been thought to make it likely that they were actors’ rings.[173]

Not only have entire emerald and ruby rings been formed, but even the intractable diamond has lately been cut in this form. An entire diamond ring, the work of the diamond-cutter Antoine, of Antwerp, was shown in the exposition held in Antwerp in 1894.[174] Another such ring has since been executed by Bart Brouwer of Amsterdam. In this latter ring the facets are all triangular.

The unrivalled Heber R. Bishop Collection of Jades, now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, contains an ancient thumb-ring (pan chih), entirely of jade, from the time of the Han Dynasty (206 B.C.-220 A.D.). Its major and minor diameters are 1.16 inches and 1.03 inches, respectively, and it weighs .809 ounce. The material is the nephrite variety of jade, the color being clouded gray with very dark brown veinings. The rings of this type were worn on the thumb of the left hand to protect it from injury by the bowstring after the discharge of the arrow. The dark veining results from the filling of the fissures in the material with some brownish-black substance; it is an excellent example of the amphibolic alteration of jadeite, which is shown by chemical analysis to be present here to the amount of 4.15 per cent. (No. 330 of the collection).

A recent type of archer’s thumb ring in this collection, of the Ch’ien-Lung period (1736–1795 A.D.), is of cylindrical form, the thick solid side bevelled inward at the base so as to adjust the ring to the hand; the convex top slopes downward from the middle. This is of a beautiful light emerald-green jadeite, clouded here and there with shades of greenish gray. It has diameters of 1.06 inches and 1.25 inches, and weighs about 1⅔ ounces. The specific gravity and hardness are those of the jadeite variety of jade, a silicate of aluminum, while nephrite is a silicate of magnesium (No. 508).

The Bishop Collection also contains two archers’ rings of the original type, with a wide flange on the lower side. These are entirely of carnelian, and are representative of the kind really used by archers. The greater part of the thumb-rings, many of them called more or less loosely “archers’ rings,” were never designed for any such special use, but constitute a modification of the original form to suit them for habitual wear. Indeed, in many cases the more ornate were rather used as pretty toys to handle, as Orientals are fond of handling gems or small jewels, than for wear. Of course the gradual disuse of archery in military operations contributed greatly to the change of fashion.

In this collection may be seen a finger-ring (chih-huan) of white jade (nephrite) set with jewels. Its shape resembles that of an archer’s ring and it is decorated with floral designs, the effect enhanced by sixty precious stones, comprising twenty-four rubies, thirty-two emeralds and four diamonds. This ring is of Indian workmanship, those made in China scarcely ever having any precious-stone adornment. In the floral ornamentation a row of rubies and emeralds cut en cabochon are outlined in gold so as to represent flowers, while in the field are four conventionalized upright sprays, each composed of three flowers, the upper one a facetted diamond, while the lateral pair are facetted emeralds. On the upper rim an undulating floral scroll has stem and leaves of gold, and flowers set alternately with rubies and emeralds.[175]

At the time a Corean embassy visited the United States in 1883, one of its leading members was Min Yonk Ik, a princely personage, closely related to the queen of the country, who brought with him two thumb-rings, which he wore, alternately, on his right hand thumb. In the case of one of these rings the Corean must have been imposed upon by the seller, for he supposed it to be jade, while the present writer’s examination of it showed that the material was merely serpentine. Its outside diameter was 34 mm. (1⅓ in.), the inside diameter being 22 mm. (about ⅞ in.), the length, or height, was 28.5 mm. (1⅛ in.). This ring was described by the writer in 1884, in Science; in the succeeding year he had occasion to correct a statement that it was an archer’s ring.[176] The Corean women commonly wear two rings, always exactly similar in every respect. As a rule they are perfectly plain, of oval form, the material being gold, silver, amber or coral. The coral was usually imported from China.

The Chinese ambassador, Wu Ting Fang, wore a jade ring in which was a thick plate of gold to reduce the size. Some of the more beautiful are of the pale green jade, known by the Chinese as fei ts’ui, or “kingfisher-plumes.” Many of these rings are exceedingly costly; when made of some piece of jade possessing very exceptional qualities of color and surface, a thumb-ring may cost as much as $10,000, or even $15,000. Incidentally, it should be noted that Wu Ting Fang is an excellent judge of precious stones.

Archers’ rings are made by Chinese and Manchus, Turks and Persians, who release the arrow according to Asiatic style, the bowstring being held by the bent thumb. In China they eventually became the insignia of military rank, and were of jade, or a glass imitation of jade; the latter are the kind usually to be found in curio shops. The Japanese did not use them, the archers wearing a glove with a horn thumb-piece. This type of glove was, however, not used by the Japanese swordsmen, as the stiff thumb-piece would have hindered the free use of the hand.[177]

An engraved finger ring entirely of milk-white jade is in the Berlin Mineralogical Museum, and in the collection of Dr. David Wiser, of Zurich, there is a jade ring-setting on which is engraved a scorpion. This image was believed to lend to the object so engraved a talismanic virtue. A slab of jade in the Freiburg Museum bears the carefully engraved figure of a scorpion and is considered to be an amulet. The source of this specimen and the place and time in which it was engraved have not been accurately ascertained.[178]

The Pueblo Bonito ruins in New Mexico have furnished us with a fragment of a jet ring. The portion remaining of this ring shows that it must have had a diameter of about 2.3 centimetres, the width of the band being 1.4 centimetres. Apparently some accident befell the original ring, causing part of the brittle material to chip off, for in the section that has been preserved a piece of jet, as wide as the band and 9 millimetres across, has been inlaid in the body of the ring. This was cut away to a depth of a millimetre, and the concave-convex inlay was then glued on.[179]

The gold-plating of bronze rings dates back to the Mycenæan period, and Ionic silver rings with gold plating were made in the sixth century B.C.; Cypriote bronze rings of about the third century B.C. have also been found. Where, as in many cases, mere gilding has been resorted to, only traces of this may remain after the lapse of centuries.[180] We note elsewhere the gold-plated iron rings worn by some Roman slaves to evade the penalty imposed upon those who illegally wore gold rings.

Glass rings are frequently made at Murano and other places in Italy of the so-called “gold stone,” aventurine, or Venice gold stone. They are very inexpensive and are generally worn by children or young girls. Mosaic rings are those in which the upper part of the ring contains either a Byzantine mosaic made up of colored glass or other material, or a Florentine mosaic, in which shell, marble and other materials are set in slate or marble settings.

Bohemian garnet rings are generally made of facetted, rose cut, or cabochon cut garnets, set usually in 8 to 14 carat gold. They are made in Prague and other cities in Bohemia, the garnet material, of the pyrope variety, coming largely from the mines at Meronitz, Bohemia.

Among the cheap materials that have been used on occasion for making rings, are horseshoe nails, which may perhaps be supposed to possess some of the wonderful talismanic power accorded by popular fancy to the horseshoe. The nails are more or less skilfully twisted into a ring form, and are at least as durable as other forms of iron rings.

An extraordinary material combination for the substance of rings, is that of dynamite and pewter. At present when the war-fever has seized upon almost all civilized peoples, we might accord to the dynamite in this composition a symbolic martial meaning. What risk there might be of the painful results of war befalling the wearer of a dynamite ring through its detonating unexpectedly because of some powerful shock, is perhaps too slight to deter those who are in eager pursuit of novelties.

The pale alloy of gold, known as electrum,[181] was favored for ring-making in Oriental Greece, and is termed “white gold” in ancient inventories. Thus in an inventory of the temple treasures of Eleusis, made in 332 B.C., there is mention of “two plain gold rings of white gold.”[182] Some Ionic rings of the fifth century, B.C. from Cyprus are also of this metallic composition. Of gold rings set with stones, a Parthenon inventory of 422 B.C. lists one with an onyx, perhaps a scaraboid, and in a Delos inventory of 279 B.C., there is one with an anthrax, probably a garnet. The variation of the phrasing in these two mentions, the former naming an onyx having a ring of gold, while the latter speaks of a “gold ring having a garnet,” might be taken to indicate that the onyx was a large object compared with the hoop, and the garnet a relatively small one.[183]

In the masterpiece of ancient Greek romantic prose literature, the Æthiopica of Heliodorus (fl. ab. 400 A.D.), perhaps Heliodorus Bishop of Tricca, the writer describes a splendid ring given by Kalasiris to Nausikles. This was one of the royal jewels of the King of Ethiopia. The hoop was of electrum, and in the bezel was set a beautiful amethyst engraved with a design showing a shepherd pasturing his flock.[184] Heliodorus especially dwells upon the fact that this was an Ethiopian (probably an Indian) amethyst, this variety far surpassing those from Iberia (the Spanish Peninsula) and Britain. In the very successful rendering of this Greek passage by Rev. C. W. King, the contrast between the former and the latter is thus gracefully expressed:[185]

For the latter blushes with a feeble hue, and is like a rose just unfolding its leaves from out of the bud, and beginning to be tinged with red by the sunbeams. But in the Ethiopian Amethyst, out of its depth flames forth like a torch a pure and as it were Spring-like beauty; and if you turn it about as you hold it, it shoots out a golden lustre, not dazzling the sight by its fierceness, but resplendent with cheerfulness. Moreover, a more genuine nature is inherent in it than is possessed by any brought from the West, for it does not belie its appellation, but proves in reality to the wearer an antidote against intoxication, preserving him sober in the midst of drinking-bouts.

In his “Rape of the Lock,” Pope writes of Belinda’s golden hair-bodkin, that the metal had originally been worked up into rings and then into a gold buckle, thus the gold was

The same, his ancient personage to deck

Her great-great-grandsire wore about his neck

In three seal-rings, which, after melted down,

Formed one huge buckle for his widow’s gown.

Besides the precious metals many other materials were used in ancient times for rings. Thus a few leaden rings have been preserved, a number of them having been unearthed in a tomb at Beneventum. The casting has been roughly done, without finishing touches. It has been suggested that in view of the rarity of leaden rings, the large number found in this tomb may be taken to indicate that the deceased had been a manufacturer of rings of this kind. From Tanagra comes a leaden ring of great size; as it is too large for wear, it might be regarded as a votive offering to a shrine or temple. Glass rings were also used at times for this purpose by the poorer classes, an example of such a ring being listed among the possessions of the temple of Asklepios at Athens as early as the fourth century B.C. The manufacture of glass rings was quite extensively carried on in Alexandria. In one case the bezel had been adorned with a painting of a woman’s head, over which was placed a translucent glass plate. This was found at the Rosetta Gate, Alexandria.[186]

An ivory ring of Roman times, later provided with a band of silver, is noted in the descriptive catalogue of the Royal Museum at Budapest. It is of oval form and artistically engraved with the seated figure of a military leader clothed with a mantle, the left hand extended as though delivering a speech; in his right hand he holds a spear. Behind him is a trophy, and before him stands a Roman soldier fully armed. Engraved ivory rings from Greek or Roman times are rare, just as are engraved amber rings. The trophy emblem denotes that this ring commemorated some triumph, or victory.[187]

A “St. Martin’s ring” had become, in the seventeenth century, a name for a brummagem ring, as is shown among other examples by the following satirical passage from a book entitled “Whimsies, or a new Cast of Characters,” published in London in 1631: “St. Martin’s Rings and counterfeit bracelets are commodities of infinite consequence; they will passe current at a may-pole, and purchase favor from their May Marian.” A rare tract called “The Captain’s Commonwealth” (1617) says that kindness was not like alchemy or a St. Martin’s ring, “that are faire to the eye and have a rich outside; but if a man should breake them asunders, and looke into them, they are nothing but brasse and copper.” The makers, or vendors of these rings lived within the precincts of the collegiate church St. Martin’s-le-Grand, and had long enjoyed a certain immunity from prosecution under the laws prohibiting the manufacture of ornaments made in imitation of genuine gold or silver ones. The gilding or silvering of brooches or rings made of copper or latten, is prohibited by an ordinance of Henry IV (1404), and another of Edward IV (in 1464), which, while pronouncing it to be unlawful to import rings of gilded copper or latten, expressly declared that the act should not be construed as meaning anything prejudicial to one Robert Styllington, clerk, dean of the King’s free chapel of “St. Martin le Graund de Londres” or to any person or persons dwelling within this sanctuary or precincts, or who might in after time dwell there, or more especially in St. Martin’s Lane.[188]

Rings set with precious stones, other than turquoises and pearls, can be safely cleaned with warm water, white soap and a trifle of ammonia. The wash should be applied with a soft old tooth-brush, so as to cleanse the spaces between the filling and the stone-setting. A little polishing off with a soft chamois will thoroughly restore the brilliancy of the stone. Turquoise or pearl rings, however, need more careful treatment and the above directions do not apply in their case.

III
SIGNET RINGS

If we pass over the scene between Judah and his daughter-in-law Tamar, related in Gen. xxxvii, 12–26, where the patriarch leaves his signet (not necessarily a signet ring) his bracelets and his staff, as pledges for a promised gift, the earliest Hebrew notice of a ring is in Genesis xlii, 42, where we read that in return for the interpretation of his dream and for the valuable counsel as to laying up a stock of grain in Egypt to forestall a coming famine, the Pharaoh of the time “took off his ring from his hand, and put it upon Joseph’s hand.” This might refer to a period about 1600 B.C., or possibly somewhat earlier, always providing the tradition be accepted as in a certain sense exact. Centuries later, in the Desert, when the Lord commanded offerings for the Tabernacle, the Ark of the Covenant, and for the ephod and breastplate, among the gifts proffered are enumerated “bracelets, earrings, and rings” (Exodus, xxxv, 22). The Book of Daniel, written not earlier than the sixth century before Christ, and more probably, in its present form, a work of the second century B.C., relating the imprisonment of Daniel in the lions’ den, states that when at the reluctant command of King Darius he was shut up therein, “a stone was brought, and laid upon the mouth of the den; and the king sealed it with his own signet, and with the signet of his lords” (Dan. vi, 17). Still, these might have been of the well-known Babylonian type of “rolling seals” and not rings.

The Book of Esther, however, of later date than Daniel, makes definite mention of the signet ring of the Persian monarch called Ahasuerus (Artaxerxes) in the Biblical text, and while the recital can scarcely be accepted as historical in any sense, the details of custom and adornment are probably quite trustworthy. On investing Haman with a great authority, Ahasuerus “took his ring from his hand and gave it unto Haman,” whereupon the latter summoned the king’s scribes and had them write letters to the provincial governors—instructing the latter to kill all the Jews in the kingdom on the thirteenth day of the month Adar; each of these letters was “sealed with the king’s ring.” Before this dire disaster could be consummated, the royal favor was gently swayed in an opposite direction by the grace and charm of Esther, the Hebrew favorite of the sovereign, and the wicked Haman was hanged on the tall gallows he had set up for Mordecai, Esther’s guardian, on whom the ring stript from Haman’s hand was bestowed. In spite of the somewhat confused recital, one point is always strongly brought out, that the impression of the royal signet imparted to letters or documents the quality of royal ordinances.

In Persia the power and authority attributed to the ring of the sovereign is noted by the Persian poet Unsuri (fl. 1000 A.D.), and in the legends of that land the famous though fabulous hero-king, Jemshid, is said to have had a magic ring of wondrous power. Among the Persians, as in many other Oriental countries, the signet-ring was long considered to be a symbol of authority.[189]

The gold ring of Queen Hâtshepset (about 1500 B.C.), consort of Thothmes II, whose prenomen, Maât-ka-Ra, signifies “flesh and blood of Amen Ra,” is set with a lapis lazuli scarab inscribed with the above words.[190] Another ring with lapis lazuli setting is that of Thothmes III, whose titles, Beautiful God, Conqueror of All Lands, Men-kheper-Ra, are inscribed on one side of the rectangular stone above a design representing a man-headed lion in the act of crushing a prostrate foe with his paw.[191] A steatite scarab, set in a gold ring, bears the name of Ptah-mes, a high priest of Memphis.[192] Another steatite ring-scarab is inscribed with the name and title of Shashank I, the Shishak of the Bible, who reigned about 966 B.C.[193]

The gold signet ring of Aah-hotep I, queen of Seqenenra III (1610–1597 B.C.) of the XVII Dynasty, was found with a wealth of other jewels at Draa-abul-Nega, the northern and most ancient part of the Theban necropolis. This queen had an unusually long and eventful life. The records clearly indicate that she must have been one hundred years old, or very nearly that age, at the time of her death, and while her youth was passed at the end of the period of the oppressive rule of the foreign Hyksos kings, she lived to witness the glorious revival of native Egyptian rule under her husband, son and grandson. This ring is now in the Louvre Museum.[194]

An interesting Egyptian signet bears the cartouche of Khufu, the second ruler of the IV Dynasty (ab. 3969–3908), the Cheops of the Greeks (Manetho’s Suphis), in whose reign the greatest of the pyramids was built. The worship of Khufu continued to a late period of Egyptian history, and this signet belonged to a Ra-nefer-ab, priest or keeper of the pyramid under the XXVI Dynasty, 664–525 B.C.[195] The ring is of fine gold, and weighs nearly ¾ ounce; it was found at Ghizeh by Colonel Vyse, in a tomb known as Campbell’s Tomb, and was acquired in Egypt by Dr. Abbott, who gathered together a choice collection of Egyptian antiquities during a residence of twenty years in Egypt. In 1860, this collection was given to the New York Historical Society through the liberality of citizens of New York.[196]

The rings of the Minoan and Mycenæan periods from about 1700 B.C. to 1000 B.C. offer a great variety of engraved designs, some in relief and others in intaglio, but all destined it seems for use as signets. Undoubtedly these rings derive in the last instance from Egyptian influence, their especial characteristics, however, are early Greek, but rarely Egyptian, as in the case of a bronze ring with a sphinx in relief found in the necropolis of Zafer Papoura near Knossos in Crete.

PORTRAIT OF A MAN, BY LUCAS CRANACH THE ELDER (1472–1553)

Seal ring on index of left hand with plain ring beneath it; ring with precious stone setting on little finger of the same hand

PORTRAIT OF KATHARINA AEDER, WIFE OF MELCHOW HANLOCHER, BY HANS BOCK THE ELDER

Gem and serpent ring on right forefinger, and three rings on left fourth finger

Art Gallery at Basel, Switzerland

Many of the Mycenæan engraved rings were evidently not intended to be used for sealing, as the intaglio is frequently very shallow, and as the proper position of the parts of the body would not be rightly shown in an impression. Hence these rings must have been designed simply for wear as ornaments. The hoop is often astonishingly small, so much so that it will not pass down onto the third finger-joint of an average man’s hand, and would only fit the very slender finger of a woman.[197]

Some remarkably fine rings are in the Cesnola Collection of Cypriote Antiquities in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Among them two serpentine rings of gold are well worth noting. In one of these the coil has six turns which are brazed together; at either end is a ram’s head. The other ring shows a serpent of two full coils, with erect head and curved neck and tail; scales are marked at the ends. The bands of the ring are smooth and plain.[198] Many of the rings are of the swivel type and are set with artistically engraved scarabs. In one of these the scarab is of green plasma, translucent but somewhat clouded; the cutting is well executed. The bottom shows two wrestlers, each entirely nude with the exception of a short ribbed apron about the loins. Behind each is an erect uræus (the serpent emblem of Egyptian divinities and kings), with wings like those of the goddess Mut, extended in protection. Between the wrestlers, on the ground, is an object resembling a wolf’s head. The bow and collet of this signet are of gold. The plasma scarab in another of these swivel rings has been pronounced to be a perfect example of this form. The stone is a pure green and the scarab has been decorated with two seated, winged androsphinxes (with man’s head and lion’s body), the paws raised before the sacred tree between them; the symbol of lordship, neb, is placed below. The hoop is a plain, thin wire.[199]

Two massive ivory rings were found in the course of excavations at Salamis, on the island of Cyprus. One was set with an oval disk of green glass, and was of the type used for sealing amphoræ of wine. The other bears the head of a woman in bas-relief; this is probably a cameo of Arsinoë.[200]

The story of the ring of Polycrates, tyrant of Samos (d. 522 B.C.), is related by Herodotus[201] (b. 484 B.C.), who, writing less than a century after the death of Polycrates, may probably give us the main facts with reasonable accuracy. According to this account, Polycrates had formed an alliance with Amasis, King of Egypt, and the latter began to fear that the unbroken good fortune of the Samian ruler would arouse the jealousy of the gods; he therefore counselled Polycrates to throw away his most prized treasure. This was a splendid emerald, set in a gold ring, and engraved by Theodorus of Samos, the supreme master of the art of gem engraving in that age. Acceding to the request of Amasis, Polycrates sailed out to sea on one of his ships and cast the precious ring into the waters. However, the gods refused the gift, for not long afterward the tyrant’s chief cook brought him back the ring, which had just been found in cutting up a fish. News of this occurrence was sent to Amasis, who immediately broke off the alliance, since he believed that the gods were implacable, and would visit Polycrates with downfall and destruction. This, indeed, proved to be the case, as a few years later the tyrant was inveigled into the power of Orœtes, a Persian satrap, and was put to death by crucifixion.

The design engraved upon this ring was a lyre, if we can trust the statement to this effect made centuries later by Clemens Alexandrinus.[202] Strange to say Pliny, who relates the story quite fully, asserts that in the Temple of Concord there was shown the supposed gem of the famous ring of Polycrates. This was an unengraved sardonyx, set in a golden cornucopia, and had been dedicated to the temple by Augustus. Pliny is careful to write “if we may believe,” in reporting this almost certainly spurious treasure of the Temple of Concord. Probably the attribution was nothing more than an invention of the custodians to enlist the interest of visitors.

A corroboration to a certain extent of the tradition that the seal of Polycrates was cut on an emerald is given by the existence of a small engraved emerald of about this period, found in Cyprus, and evidently of Phœnician workmanship. It bears the figure of a sovereign holding a sceptre in one hand and an axe in the other; on his head is a high tiara and the arrangement of hair and beard, as well as the dress and other details, are of Ægypto-Syrian type. This gem formed part of the Tyszkiewicz Collection.[203]

In a recently published work, M. Salomon Reinach, of the National Museum at St. Germain-en-Laye, an archæologist of the highest repute, makes a curious conjecture in regard to the real significance of the story related by Herodotus regarding this signet. M. Reinach holds that when Polycrates sailed out to sea to cast away his ring, he was engaged in the performance of a ceremony similar to that performed annually by the Doges of Venice, when they wedded the Adriatic by casting a ring into its waters. Polycrates, as a “thalassocrat,” or ruler of the sea, celebrated in this way his mastery over this element, and M. Reinach believes that this act, told as an isolated happening by Herodotus, was really a ceremony repeated each year. The conjecture is an ingenious one, although it may not be generally accepted.[204]

The signet of the Persian sovereign, Xerxes, is said to have borne the nude figure of a woman with disheveled hair.[205] This depicted Anahita, the Persian goddess of fertilization and also of war, a divinity closely resembling the Assyrian Ishtar in her attributes and functions. According to other ancient authorities, however, the design was either a portrait of Xerxes himself, that of Cyrus the Great, or else a representation of the horse whose neighing legend states to have been received as an omen determining the choice of Darius Hystaspes, father of Xerxes, as King of Persia.

In Græco-Roman times, a certain Eurates is represented to be the owner of a ring set with an engraved signet bearing the head of the Pythian Apollo, and to have boasted that the ring literally “spoke” to him. Of course, the satirist Lucian, who tells this tale, only offers it as a specimen of the lies told by Eurates, still the recital indicates that such fables were credited in the second century of our era.[206]

Another superstitious use of signet rings was to throw a number of them into a heap and pull out one at random, the design engraved on the signet being interpreted as a favorable or unfavorable omen, which foretold the outcome of any contemplated action. An instance of this appears in Plutarch’s life of Timoleon (d. 337 B.C.), the Greek general who freed Syracuse from the tyrant Dionysius. In one of his campaigns the enemy had taken up a strong position behind a river, which the troops of Timoleon were forced to ford. A noble rivalry sprang up among the officers as to who should be the first to enter the river, and Timoleon, fearing that confusion would result from the dispute, decided to settle the question by lot. Therefore he took from each of the officers his signet ring, cast them into his own cloak, shook them together, and drew out one, which fortunately bore the figure of a trophy. This was hailed as a good omen, the quarrel was forgotten, and the stream was forded so impetuously, and the attack was so vigorous that the enemy was overwhelmed.[207]

After his Persian conquests, in 331 B.C., Alexander the Great sealed the letters he sent to Europe with his old seal, while for those sent to functionaries in his new Asiatic domains he used the seal of Darius III, Codomannus (reigned 336–330 B.C.), whose daughter Statira he afterwards wedded. Quintus Curtius regards this as emblematic of the idea that a single mind was not wide enough to embrace two such destinies,[208] but the true reason was undoubtedly that the Asiatic officials were already familiar with the Persian sovereign’s seal and were accustomed to render it due obedience.

The emblem of the anchor used by the Seleucidæ, the dynasty founded in Syria by Seleucus Nicator, one of Alexander’s generals, is said to have originated in a strange dream of Laodicea, mother of Seleucus and wife of Antiochus. One night she dreamt that she was visited by the God Apollo, and that he bestowed upon her a ring set with a stone on which an anchor was engraved. This was to be given to the son she was to bear. As such a ring was found in the room the next morning, the dream seemed to be thoroughly corroborated, and, moreover, when Seleucus was born, he had on his thigh the birthmark of an anchor. Subsequent to Alexander’s death in 323 B.C., Seleucus founded, in 312 B.C. the kingdom of Syria, which was transmitted to a long series of his descendants, each of whom in turn is said to have borne a similar birthmark.[209]

CARDINAL OF BRANDENBURG, BY THE MASTER OF THE DEATH OF MARY

Seal ring on index of right hand; rings set with precious stones on fourth and little fingers of the same hand

Reale Galleria Nazionale, Rome

PORTRAIT OF A MOTHER AND HER DAUGHTER, BY BARTHOLOMEW BRUYN

Three rings on right hand, one with a pointed diamond; also three rings on left hand, two on index finger; the one on the fourth finger set with two pearls

Imperial Hermitage, Petrograd

In the Hellenistic period (ca. 300 B.C.-ca. 100 B.C.) signet rings entirely of metal largely gave place to those in which the seal was engraved on a stone set in a metal ring. Chalcedony continued to be freely used for this purpose, but the employment of the choicer and harder precious stones from India, transparent and brilliant, and of deeper coloring, characterizes this period. In the front rank is the jacinth, unknown in earlier times, with its wonderful ruddy hues. This is the favorite stone of the time. Usually the gem is given a strongly convex form in order to bring out better the play of color. Scarcely less favored than the jacinths were the garnets, also cut in a convex shape; in many cases the under side was cut slightly concave to enhance the effect. Evidently, however, garnets were less prized than jacinths, for the engravings on the former are almost without exception much inferior to those on the latter. Sometimes, in this period, unengraved garnets, cut convex, are used for ring adornment. Another precious stone that makes its first appearance in the Hellenistic epoch is the beryl, which, because of its costliness, is more rarely met with than those we have already mentioned. It is only used for the very finest work, as is also the case with the topaz. The amethyst, which had almost gone out of fashion in the preceding periods, was now restored to favor, principally because of its beautiful color; like the other stones, it was cut convex. Rock crystal was still used, as were also carnelian and sardonyx.[210]

That cruel persecutor of the Jews, Antiochus IV, Epiphanes (175–164 B.C.), on his death-bed, confided to his most trusted councillor, Philip, the signet ring from his finger, that it might be held in trust for his son, a child but nine years old, until the latter should come of age and exercise the royal authority. In the meanwhile, the grant of the signet was equivalent to the bestowal of the regency upon Philip, as he had the power to affix the royal seal upon all edicts or ordinances. The son did not, however, live to receive the ring, as he only survived his father two years, although he was a nominal successor under the title, Antiochus V, Eupator.[211]

Two Greek epigrams in the Anthology, on engraved amethysts in signet rings, express the prevailing superstition regarding the sobering effect of this precious stone; these have been very well Englished by Rev. C. W. King.[212] One, by Antipater, concerns a signet of Cleopatra and runs in King’s version as follows:

A Mœnad wild, on amethyst I stand,

The engraving truly of a skilful hand;

A subject foreign to the sober stone,

But Cleopatra claims it for her own;

And hallow’d by her touch, the nymph so free

Must quit her drunken mood, and sober be.

That this was really a ring-stone is proved by the Greek words “on the queen’s hand,” which King has not literally translated. The image was that of Methe, goddess of intoxication. The other epigram is shorter but to the same point:

On wineless gem, I, toper Bacchus, reign;

Learn, stone, to drink, or teach me to abstain.

That admiration of a work of art on the part of an unscrupulous official is sometimes fraught with danger for the rightful ownership of the object, was illustrated in the case of a seal ring belonging to a Roman citizen of Agrigentum in Sicily. The arch-pilferer Verres, Roman governor of the island from 73 to 71 B.C., being on one occasion struck by the beauty of a seal impression on a letter just handed to his interpreter Vitellius, asked whence the letter came and who was the sender. The information was of course quickly given, and thereupon Verres, then in Syracuse, dictated a letter to his representative in Agrigentum, requiring that the seal ring should be forwarded to Syracuse without delay, and the owner, a certain Lucius Titius, was forced to give it up to the unscrupulous Roman governor.[213] The injustice of this act must have been felt all the more keenly that the special and peculiar design on a seal was then regarded as something closely linked with the personality of the owner.

A strong appeal to the memories aroused by a signet bearing the effigy of a renowned ancestor, was made by Cicero in one of his orations against Catilina. He declared that when he submitted to Publius Lentulus Sura, who was involved in the great Catilinian conspiracy, an incriminating letter believed to be his, asking him whether he did not acknowledge the seal with which it was stamped, Lentulus nodded assent. Thereupon Cicero addressed him in these words: “In effect the seal is well known, it is the image of your ancestor, whose sole love was for his country and his fellow-citizens. Mute as it is, this image should have sufficed to hold you aloof from such a crime.”[214]

When, after the decisive battle of Pharsala, Julius Cæsar came to Egypt in pursuit of his defeated adversary, Pompey, he learned that the latter had been treacherously assassinated by the Egyptians, who hoped thereby to gain favor with the conqueror. As proof of Pompey’s death, his head was brought to Cæsar, who turned away in aversion from the messenger of death. At the same time, Pompey’s signet ring was given to the victor, on receiving which tears rose to his eyes,[215] for no memento could be more potent than such a ring. Cæsar’s manifestation of grief was absolutely free from hypocrisy for he was “of a noble generous nature,” and had long had the most friendly relations with Pompey, to whom he gave his daughter Julia in marriage, until the inevitable rivalry for the control of Rome brought them into enmity. The death of Julia is said to have contributed not a little to the termination of the friendship between Cæsar and Pompey.

St. Ambrose answering the self-posed query, whether anyone having an image of a tyrant was liable to punishment, asserts that he remembered to have read that certain persons who wore rings bearing the effigies of Brutus and Cassius, the assassins of Cæsar, had been condemned to capital punishment.[216] Of course, the wearing of such a ring would imply not only an admiration of the person figured, but also devotion to his cause.

The imprint of a proprietor’s seal was frequently made upon his trees, and served to establish his ownership, so that strangers could have no excuse for cutting them down, or in case of fruit trees, for plucking the fruit. The degree of confidence reposed in the seal impression is strikingly illustrated by the account that when Pompey learned that some of his soldiers were committing atrocities on the march, he ordered that all their swords should be sealed, and no one should remove the impression without having obtained permission to do so.[217]

The symbols used as mint-marks on ancient coins are often reproductions of the seals of the chief magistrate of the city or district, or else of the mint-master. Among these may be noted such types as: a locust, a calf’s head, a dancing Satyr, a young male head, a culex (gnat), etc.[218] A ring as a mint-mark on early English coins is a clear indication that such coins were struck in one of the ecclesiastical mints. On a penny of Stephen’s reign (1135–1154), from the Archbishop of York’s mint, this mint-mark has been made by converting the left leaf of the fleur-de-lys surmounting the sceptre into a small annulet. The ring-mark appears on the coins of York from the earliest times, and is assumed to have been especially favored for the English Primate’s mint in reference to the Ring of St. Peter, or the Fisherman’s Ring. A penny, probably coined after the installation of Archbishop William in 1141, appears to be one of the earliest of this type. The reverse gives Ulf as the name of the coiner or moneyer.[219]

While none of the signet rings of Roman emperors, or even of Romans prominent in the social or political life of the centuries immediately preceding and succeeding the beginning of the Christian Era, have been preserved, it is possible to learn from literary sources the devices engraved on many of them. Scipio Africanus, the conqueror of Hannibal, had his father’s portrait engraved on his signet, and his son followed the father’s example in this respect. The idea seems to be an excellent one, as both family honor and filial love could thus find expression. The gifted, but dissolute Sylla, in the first design he had cut upon his signet, sought to perpetuate the memory of his victory over Jugurtha in 107 B.C., the Mauritanian king Bocchus being depicted in the act of surrendering Jugurtha. Later on Sylla used a signet with three trophies, and finally selected one with a portrait of Alexander the Great. For Lucullus, the great gourmet and master of all the arts of Roman luxury, the head of Ptolemy, King of Egypt, seemed the design best fitted for his signet.

The two great rivals, Pompey and Cæsar, chose widely divergent symbols. The former wore a signet engraved with a lion bearing a sword, while on Cæsar’s ring was cut an armed Venus, the Venus Victrix, from whom the gens Julia claimed descent, and for whose statue Cæsar is said to have brought pearls from Britain to be set on the statue’s breastplate. The first choice made by Augustus was a sphinx, in symbolical allusion to his taciturnity; later in his reign he wore a signet with Alexander the Great’s head engraved thereon, and finally, moved perhaps by the flatteries of his adulators, he substituted his own image for that of the great Macedonian. The famous literary patron of the Augustan Age, Mæcenas (d. 8 A.D.), who was at the same time a very able statesman, chose the singular emblem of a frog. That the bloodthirsty Nero should select a design figuring a martyrdom seems very appropriate, and in the flaying of Marsyas by Apollo cut on his ring, he undoubtedly identified himself with the sun god and leader of the muses who took vengeance upon his would-be rival in the musical art. For Nero was a most devoted amateur of the arts as he understood them, and had sung—in a strained, high-pitched voice it is said—in the theatres of Greece, earning applause enough from the wily Greeks we may be sure. Actuated by jealousy, he is said to have had the singer Menedemus whipped, and to have warmly applauded his “melodious” cries of agony, evidently rejoicing in having forced him to “sing another song.”

Galba (3–69 B.C.), Nero’s immediate successor, is said to have used successively three signets, the first depicting a dog bending its head beneath the prow of a ship; this was followed by a ring showing a Victory with a trophy, and lastly came one bearing the effigies of his ancestors. As his reign of less than a year seems too short for us to suppose that all these changes were made in that time, perhaps only the last-mentioned ring was the one he used as emperor. Commodus (161–192 A.D.), the unworthy son of the philosopher-emperor, Marcus Aurelius, had the figure of an Amazon engraved for his signet, this choice having been made, so it is said, because of the pleasure he took in seeing his mistress Martia dressed in this way.

Augustus Cæsar reposed such unlimited confidence in his son-in-law, Agrippa, and in his friend and finance minister, Mæcenas, that he was in the habit of confiding his letters to them for correction, and gave them permission to send off the corrected letters, bearing the stamp of his signet which he had deposited in their charge, without submitting them again to him. Similar trust was reposed by Vespasian in Mutianus.[220]

The seal was stamped on a linen band passed around the closed tablets on the inside surfaces of which the letter had been written. The impression, made when the ends of the band were joined, was either upon wax, soft viscous earth, or even on a mixture of chalk; this was commonly moistened with saliva before the signet was used, so that the engraved stone might not adhere to the imprint and could be easily taken off. The bearer of such a letter fully realized his responsibility for its delivery with unbroken seal, and generally took pains to have this duly recognized by the person to whom it was addressed.[221] The personal seal was also impressed, both in Roman times and later, upon all documents private or public. In the case of private documents the strictly guarded individuality of the seal really afforded a very considerable guarantee of the genuineness of a document. A survival of this is the common little red seal attached now-a-days to legal documents, necessary to their validity it is true, but giving no possible confirmation of the signature. This latter was in fact represented by the design of the old signets.

The “Dream Book” of Artemidorus relates as an especially direful vision, that of one who dreamed his signet ring had dropped from his finger, and that the engraved stone set therein had broken into many fragments, the result of this being that he could transact no business for forty-five days,[222] presumably until he could have a new signet engraved. For the impression of the individual signet was indispensable to give validity to any order or agreement.

Two brass rings. Roman. 1, set with an inscribed agate,; 2, key-ring, set with an engraved onyx

Gorlæus, Dactyliotheca, Delphis Bat., 1601

Two gold rings, with onyx gems. Roman. 1, engraved with seated figure of Ceres; 2, design of dove bringing back the olive branch to the Ark

Gorlæus, Dactyliotheca, Delphis Bat., 1601

Two bronze rings excavated at the Borough Field, Chesterford, Essex, 1848. Late Roman.

British Museum

Bone ring with grotesque mask carved on bezel. Found near the amphitheatre at Lyons, France. Roman.

British Museum

Roman gold rings of the Fourth Century A.D. 1, set with plasma bead; 2, double ring, set with garnets; 3, gold hoop composed of a plain band on either side of a wavy band; set with a convex plasma; 4. set with convex almandine intaglio

British Museum

Ornamental gold ring from Wiston, Sussex, England, set with a dark amethyst

British Museum

Silver ring. On bezel engraved design of a bird approaching a fallen stag. About Fifth Century A.D.

British Museum

The Jewish historian Josephus cites, as an example of absent-mindedness, that when the Roman senator Cneius Sentius Saturninus arose in the senate and pronounced a fiery harangue on the death of Caligula, urging the senators to regain their former liberties of which they had been robbed, he quite forgot that he wore on his hand a ring set with a stone on which the head of the detested tyrant was cut. His fellow senator, Trebellius Maximus, remarking it, however, snatched it from his finger, and the stone was crushed to pieces.[223]

How common in ancient Rome was the use of a signet ring to seal up the provision rooms in a household, is shown by a passage in the “Casina” of the comic poet Plautus, written about 200 B.C., where Cleopatra on leaving her home to visit a neighbor, directs her slaves to seal these rooms and bring her ring back to her.[224]

Of the betrothal ring, Clemens Alexandrinus says that it was not given as an ornament, but for sealing objects in the conjugal domicile. As the husband’s signet ring was often used in a similar way, it was quite customary to bequeath it to a wife or a daughter. An example of this appears in the case of Emperor Aurelian (214–275 A.D.) who left his seal ring to his wife and daughter jointly, the Latin historian adding that in so doing he was acting “just like a private citizen.”[225]

A curious subject was chosen for his signet-ring by a native of Intercatia in Spain. His father had been killed in a single combat by the Roman leader Scipio Æmilius, and it was this scene that the son had engraved upon his ring. When Stilo Preconinus related this fact in Rome he laughingly demanded of his hearers what they supposed the Spaniard would have done if his father had killed Scipio instead of being killed by him.[226]

In the Roman world the custom of removing the rings in case of death is noted by Pliny, who says that they were taken from the fingers of those in the comatose state of the dying; the rings were often replaced after death.[227] An instance in point is noted by Suetonius, who reports that when Tiberius became unconscious, and was believed to be about to die, his seal ring was slipped from his finger, but on regaining consciousness the emperor demanded that it should be replaced.[228] To have a ring drop from the finger was regarded as a bad omen, and when an accident of this kind happened to Emperor Hadrian, he is said to have exclaimed: “This is a sign of death.” The ring which fell from his finger bore a gem engraved with his own image.

The elegy of Propertius (49–15? B.C.) on the “Shade of Cynthia,” gives proof that a valuable ring was often left on the hand of the corpse when it was burned on the funeral pyre. The Latin verses describing the apparition may be thus rendered in prose:[229]

“She still had the same eyes and hair as when on the funeral couch; but her garments had been burned away. The flame had destroyed the beryl which used to grace her finger, and the infernal stream had discolored her lips.”

The sense of intimate connection between a valued ring and the wearer, finds expression in Shakespeare’s lines (Cymbeline Act I, sc. 5):

My ring I hold dear as my finger; ’tis part of it.

And if we go back 2200 years to a far distant quarter of the globe we meet with the same feeling of intimate connection in the inspired words of the Hebrew prophet Jeremiah (xxii, 24):

As I live, saith the Lord, though Coniah the son of Jehoiakim King of Judah were the signet upon my right hand, yet would I pluck thee hence.

The prophet Haggai (chap. ii, verse 23) uses the designation signet to indicate a specially chosen instrument, in the following words:

In that day, saith the Lord of hosts, will I take thee, O Zerubbabel, my servant, the son of Shealtiel, saith the Lord, and will make thee as a signet: for I have chosen thee, saith the Lord of hosts.

The Freemasons have adopted the signet of Zerubbabel as one of the symbols of the Royal Arch, the seventh masonic degree.[230]

The monogram of Christ appears on a signet made for a Christian lady of Roman times, Ælia Valeria. Of this sacred symbol St. John Chrysostom wrote that the Christians of his time always inscribed it at the beginning of their letters, and he gives as a reason for this that wherever the name of God appeared there was nothing but happiness. Undoubtedly the shape of the Greek X (Ch), forming part of this monogram, suggested a form of the cross, and gave an added significance to the monogram, especially in view of Chrysostom’s statement that the Christians of his time painted or engraved a cross on their houses and made the sign of the cross over their foreheads and their hearts.[231]

Clemens Alexandrinus in the second century tells us that men were required to wear the seal ring on the little finger, as worn in this way it would interfere least with the use of the hand, and would be best protected from injury and loss.[232] While, however, fashion must have dictated to a great extent the finger on which a seal ring was to be worn, we should bear in mind that any particular custom in this matter was not constant, and that individual preferences must often have determined the finger chosen to bear the seal ring. This diversity is attested by the differing statements of the old writers, as well as by the rare examples offered by ancient statues and paintings.

One of the rare ivory rings in the British Museum is a signet the bezel of which bears an engraved design of Christ on the Cross, with the Virgin and St. John on either side. The legend is the motto of Constantine the Great: In hoc signo vinces. The hoop of this ring, which was found in Suffolk, has been restored at the back. The figures are very rudely engraved for a production of the sixteenth century.[233]

Bronze signet-ring, Byzantine, two views and impression. The abbreviated Greek inscription reads: “May the Lord help his servant Stephan”

British Museum

Bronze signet ring. European. Fifteenth Century

British Museum

Silver ring, broken at the back. Bezel bears letter “T” crowned. Fifteenth Century

British Museum

Ivory signet ring, with impression. On the carved bezel, the Crucifixion, between the Virgin and St. John; legend: “In hoc signo vinces,” motto of the Emperor Constantine

British Museum

Bronze signet. The octagonal bezel is engraved with a greyhound’s head, and a rather obscure inscription. Ring and impression of signet. Fifteenth Century

British Museum

Gold signet ring, engraved with a lion rampant; beneath, a star. Ring and impression. Sixteenth Century

British Museum

Massive gold ring; bezel engraved with a lion passant regardant, and the legend: “Now is thus.” English, late Fifteenth Century. Ring and impression of signet

British Museum

It appears to have been an ancient usage in some parts of the Christian world to use two signet rings in connection with the baptismal ceremonies. One of these was employed to seal up the font, or else the baptistry, while the other was used to affix a seal upon the profession of faith made by the neophyte, this profession being later entered on a public register. Some of the ecclesiastical writers saw the origin of the first-named ring in the text (Cant. iv, 12):

A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.[234]

A recognition that at the beginning of the sixth century A.D. bishops were in possession of signet rings is offered by a circular letter addressed by Clovis I, in 511 A.D., after his victory over the Visigoths at Vouglé, to the bishops of the many cities that came under his domination as the fruits of this success. He informs the bishops that he will free all prisoners, either clerical or lay, for whom this favor shall be asked in letters “sealed with your ring.” This, however, only confirms the other testimony to the effect that the bishops had signets, but does not suffice to establish the existence at this time of rings given to them at their consecration as symbols of their office.[235]

The French kings of the Merovingian age stamped upon their royal documents the design engraved on their signet rings, the accompanying formula being frequently as follows: “By the impress of our ring we corroborate (roborari fecimus)”; slightly different forms appear sometimes. The following list gives, with the dates, a number of seal impressions that have been found on such documents:[236]

In the Carolingian period, Charlemagne and his successors continued the use of the same formulas.

The possession of signet rings by well-born women, although not usual in Roman times, became quite common in the early Middle Ages, under the influence of the Germanic peoples, which accorded to woman a much more important station than did the Romans or Gallo-Romans. Among the relics of the Merovingian period that have been preserved to our day, is the ring of Berteildis, one of the wives of Dagobert I (602?-638).[237] It is of silver and is inscribed with the name of the queen and the monogram of the word regina.[238] A document from the time of Childeric II, dated in 637, shows impressions of two queenly signets, one that of Emnechildis, wife of Sigebert II, King of Austrasia and guardian of Childeric, and the other belonging to Blichildis, Childeric’s wife.

In the tomb of the Frankish king Childeric I (458–481 A.D.), accidentally discovered at Tournai in 1653, in an ancient cemetery of the parish church of St. Brica, were found a number of valuable relics of this sovereign, among them his signet ring. After having been taken to Vienna by Archduke Leopold Wilhelm, then governor of the Low Countries, the treasure came, after his death, into the Imperial Cabinet there. In 1665 the Archbishop of Mayence secured from Emperor Leopold I permission to offer it to Louis XIV. In July of this year the precious objects were transmitted to the French king and were deposited in the Cabinet de Médailles, recently constituted in the Louvre. Shortly afterward, they were transferred to the Bibliothèque du Roi, and were safely preserved in this institution, under its changing names, until 1831, when the ring and other of the Childeric relics, as well as a number of other historic objects, were stolen from the library. The ring was never recovered. Fortunately there exists a very exact description and a figuration of the ring in an account of the treasure published in 1655, at Antwerp, by Jean Jacques Chifflet, first physician of the Archduke.[239] The ring, which is of massive gold, bears a large oval bezel on which is engraved the bust, full face. The sovereign is beardless, with long hair parted in the middle and hanging down to his shoulders. The bust is garbed in Roman style; on the tunic may be seen a decorative plaque. The king’s right hand holds a lance which rests on his shoulder, as may be observed in the imperial medals of Constantine II, Theodosius II, and their successors. The legend, in the genitive case, Childerici Regis, presupposes the word signum or sigillum, as the ring was unquestionably a signet. M. Deloche considers it probable that it was made on the occasion of Childeric’s marriage with Basnia, Queen of Thuringia, who had abandoned her native land and her husband to wed the Frankish sovereign. Clovis I (481–511) was the offspring of this union. Although the original has been lost there has fortunately been preserved an imprint from it on the margin of a manuscript in the Bibliothèque de Sainte Geneviève; of the entire ring there is the carefully executed drawing made for Chifflet’s work.[240]

In many cases the Carolingian monarchs rendered their signets, set with antique gems, significant of their own personality by having their names engraved around the setting. In this way Carloman (741–747) utilized an antique gem showing a female bust with hair tied in a knot, while Charlemagne’s choice was a gem engraved with the head of Marcus Aurelius; at a later time he substituted for this one bearing the head of the Alexandrian god Serapis. It is noteworthy that there is a great likeness between the portraits of Antoninus Pius and the type chosen for Serapis. Louis I, le Debonnaire (814–840), selected a portrait of Antoninus Pius, and his son, Lothaire, Roman emperor, 840–855 A.D., a gem with Caracalla’s head, the choice being no inappropriate one in view of Lothaire’s weak and treacherous character. Rev. C. W. King conjectures that the selection of the particular head may have depended upon its resemblance, more or less close, to the features of the monarch, as even though the likeness should not be very exact, the work would surpass anything that the unskilful gem-cutters of this age could produce.[241]

Of the seal of the Prophet Mohammed, we are told by Ibn Kaldoun that when he was about to send a letter to the Emperor Heraclius, his attention was called to the fact that no letter would be received by a foreign potentate unless it bore the impression of the Prophet’s seal. Mohammed therefore had a seal made of silver, bearing the inscription “Mohammed rasûl Allah,” “Mohammed the Apostle of God”; these three words, according to Al-Bokhari, were disposed in three lines. The Prophet made use of this seal and forbade the making of any one like it. After his death it was employed by his successors, Abu Bekr, Omar and Othman, but the last-named unluckily let it fall from his hand into the well of Aris, whose depth it had never been possible to measure. A duplicate was executed to replace the original, but its loss was greatly deplored, and was looked upon as a possible presage of ill-fortune.[242] The title inscribed upon it was prouder in its simplicity than that assumed by any other ruler, not excepting those who claimed for themselves a divine ancestry, or divine attributes. These could at most pretend to rank as divinities of a lower order, while Mohammed claimed to be the mouthpiece of the one and only God.

Burton writes that it is “a tradition of the Prophet” that the carnelian is the best stone for a signet ring, and this is still the usage among Mohammedans in the Orient. In the Arabian tale entitled “History of Al Hajjaj ben Yusuf and the Young Sayyed,” we read that the signet should be of carnelian because the stone was a guard against poverty.[243]

Some Arabic signets bore peculiarly apt inscriptions. One of these reads: “Correspondence is only a half-joy,” a delicate piece of flattery for the recipient of a letter bearing this seal. Another signet gives the following very necessary warning to the person to whom the letter is addressed, should it happen to contain something which ought not to be revealed. “If more than two know it, the secret is out.”[244] Such inscriptions are certainly more significant than a motto of less special meaning.

In an essay on Arabic signets, Hammer-Purgstall[245] calls attention to a fundamental distinction between talismans and signets. With the former, the inscription is engraved so that it may be read as it stands, while with the latter the characters are reversed so that only the impression gives them in their proper order. Besides this, the talismans rarely contain the wearer’s name, which is the most essential part of the signet. Nevertheless, there can be little doubt that in many cases the signet was at the same time a talisman.

That lovers—even Mohammedan lovers—in the seventeenth century, had romantic designs engraved upon seal rings, is illustrated by what Garzoni relates concerning the seal ring of “Mahometh Bassa.” This bore the figure of a silk-worm upon a mulberry leaf, the design commemorating the wearer’s love for a Moorish girl, and signifying that he drew his life from her as did the silk-worm from the leaf.[246]

Tavernier relates that in his time, the last half of the seventeenth century, the secret treasure of the Sultans in Constantinople was guarded in an innermost treasure-chamber of the Serail. This chamber was only opened at intervals to receive the surplus gold that had been collected from the Empire or received in any way, when the total sum had reached 18,000,000 livres (over $7,000,000] according to the value of the livre in Tavernier’s day). The gold was contained in sacks, each of which held 15,000 ducats. When an addition to the treasure was to be deposited, the Sultan himself led the way to the treasure-chamber and stamped his seal, with his own hand, on red wax spread over the knot of the cord with which the sack was secured. This seal was engraved on the bezel of a gold ring and constituted no design, but simply the name of the reigning sovereign, the characters being probably intricately combined in the elaborate and cryptic manner used in the case of the imperial name and titles.[247]

A Byzantine signet ring of the sixth or seventh century of our era, in the British Museum, shows the head of Christ, beneath which bending figures of two angels in profound adoration are depicted. Angel-figures almost exactly similar may be seen in Byzantine ivory carvings of this later period, the type evidently being one of those rigidly defined in the hieratic art of the school. With this ring were found coins of Heraclius (610–641), the Greek emperor in whose reign fell the death of Mohammed (June 8, 632) and the overthrow of the Sassanian Persian monarchy by the Mohammedans.[248]

How important the possession of a royal seal-ring was considered to be, as proving the title of a successor, appears in the story that at the death-bed of Alexius Comnenus (1084–1118), Emperor of the East, when the son and rightful successor, John Comnenus, perceived that his mother Irene was working to exclude him from the throne and to seat thereon his blue-stocking sister Anna, he took off the imperial ring from the hand of his dying father and thus ensured for himself the title to the Eastern Empire.[249]

Saint Bernard of Clairvaux (1091–1153), the enthusiastic preacher of the Second Crusade in 1147, excuses himself in some of his letters that he has failed to seal them, because he could not lay his hand on his signet. In a letter to Pope Eugene III, the saint complains that several spurious letters bearing his name have been circulated, sealed with a counterfeit seal; he also notifies the pontiff that from this time his letters will bear a new seal, on which will be his portrait and his name.[250]

Well-to-do merchants of mediæval times, not entitled to armorial bearings, often had special individual marks or symbols engraved upon their signets. This custom obtained on the continent as well as in England, and allusion is made in the Old English poem of the fourteenth century, “Piers Plowman,” to “merchantes merkes ymedeled in glasse.”[251] Probably emblems of this kind came to have a certain association with the business which in many cases descended from father to son through a number of generations.

A royal signet ring once believed to be that of Saint Louis (Louis IX, 1214–1270) and long preserved in the treasury of St. Denis, as an object of reverent care, is now in the Louvre Museum. The fact that the crescent is introduced as a symbol fails to connect the ring with the Crusader St. Louis, as this symbol was not used by the Saracens of his time, but was only adopted as a Mohammedan device after the Turks captured Constantinople, the crescent having been a recognised symbol in ancient times in Byzantium long before the city came to be called Constantinople.[252]

The engraved stone in the ring is a table-cut sapphire, the monarch being figured standing, with a nimbus around his head; he is crowned and bears a sceptre. The letters S L on the stone have been interpreted to mean rather sigillum Ludovici than Sanctus Ludovicus, and one critic suggests the possibility that it may have been executed in Constantinople, in Byzantine times, for Louis VII, who was there in 1147, and was received with high honors by Manuel Comnenus, the Greek emperor’s courtesy being rather bred of fear of French aggression than of affection for the French crusader. As we have good evidence that gem-cutting was not practised at this time in France, it seems plausible enough that Louis VII should have availed himself of this opportunity to have a signet engraved for him by a Greek gem-cutter.[253]

The signet ring of King Charles V of France (1337–1380) was set with an Oriental ruby on which was engraved “the bearded head of a king.” This signet was used by King Charles to seal the letters written by his own hand. The somewhat vague description in the inventory suggests that this may have been an antique gem, the supposedly royal head being that of some Greek divinity. The art of engraving on such hard stones as the ruby does not seem to have been practised in the thirteenth or fourteenth centuries, the revival of this art belonging to a later period. Evidently the head was not that of Charles himself or of any of his predecessors, for, had this been the case the inventory would hardly fail to note the fact.[254]

When a certain Bratilos was sent as a messenger by the eastern emperor Cantacuzene (1341–1355) to his empress Irene, to announce the outbreak of a dangerous revolt, he bore a sealed letter from the emperor.[255] While on his journey, however, he began to fear that he might be waylaid and robbed of the important document. This peril he effectively provided against by memorizing the letter and then destroying it, after he had removed the wax impression of the imperial signet, which he could safely guard in his mouth, and which served to accredit him when he came before the empress.[256] Not long afterward Cantacuzene was defeated and deposed by John V, Palæologus, and retired to a monastery, where he lived until 1411, composing a history of his own times in his leisure moments; his wife also took the religious vows under the name of Eugenia.

Much has been written about the ring or rather the engraved seal of Michelangelo. This gem enjoyed such high esteem that it was very often copied, the copies sometimes acquiring the repute of being originals. Four of them, two in paste, one in amethyst, and one in carnelian, exist in Denmark, the two latter having the dimensions of the original gem. The copy in carnelian—the stone in which the original was cut—is exceptionally well executed.[257] The original seal is now in the Bibliothêque Nationale in Paris and came into the possession of Louis XIV in 1680. The king wore it set in a ring.

It was brought to France in 1600 by a Sieur Bigarris, director of the Mint, and its history was at the time traced back to Agosto Tassi, goldsmith in Bologna, to whom Michelangelo had bequeathed it. The gem was the work of Pier Maria di Pescia, and bears his symbolic signature, a boy fishing (pescia, fishing). The dimensions are given as 15 mm. by 11 mm., the form being oval, and in this restricted space is a design embracing twelve human figures, two genii, a horse, a goat and a tree. Two of the figures appear to have been copied from a detail of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel frescoes: a woman helping another woman to place a basket of grapes upon her head. Watelet and Levesque in their “Dictionnaire des Arts” published in 1791, characterize this seal as “the most beautiful engraved gem known.”

The Royal Collection at Windsor Castle contains a gold ring set with a cameo portrait of Louis XII, of France (1498–1515), cut in a pale ruby of clear lustre. The work is believed to have been executed during the lifetime of the king, and was considered by Rev. C. W. King to be the earliest Renaissance portrait cut on a stone of the hardness of a ruby. He regarded it as a work of the famous Renaissance gem-cutter Domenico dei Camei, this artist having engraved a portrait of the Milanese duke Ludovico Sforza, surnamed Il Moro, on the same hard material. The gold plate at the back of the bezel holding the gem bears the inscription “Loys XIIme Roy de France décéda I Janvier, 1515,” the stone having been set in the ring at some time after the monarch’s death.[258]

This collection also contains an imperfect specimen of a squirt-ring. The hoop is of enamelled gold set with a garnet engraved in relief with a mask or bacchic head finely executed by a sixteenth-century artist. The hole at the base of the hoop, with its internal screw-worm, indicates that it was once provided with a squirt for projecting perfumed liquids.[259]

A sixteenth-century portrait by the German painter, Conrad Faber, depicts a well-to-do burgher, possibly a burgomaster, who wears a seal ring on the index finger of his left hand and a ring with a precious stone setting on the fourth finger of the same hand. In this hand he holds something which may be a staff of office; it is surmounted by an octagonal block of ebony in which is inlaid a medallion figuring St. George and the Dragon. The city, as carefully delineated in the background as in the finest of engravings, appears to be one of the historic Rhine cities, and is evidently that with which the sitter was identified.

PORTRAIT OF A MAN, BY THE SIXTEENTH-CENTURY GERMAN PAINTER, CONRAD FABER

Seal ring on index of left hand, sapphire-set ring on fourth finger of this hand, which holds what seems to be a wand or staff of office, surmounted by an octagonal ebony block, with inserted medallion of St. George and the Dragon

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Kennedy Fund, 1912

PORTRAIT OF BENEDIKT VON HERTENSTEIN, BY HANS HOLBEIN

Showing seal ring on index finger, two rings on third finger, and three on little finger of left hand

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City

MAN AND WOMAN AT A CASEMENT

The woman wears three rings (sapphire, ruby and some other stone) on the index of right hand, and two on the middle finger of this hand, one of them on the second joint. The young man has a large oval topaz on the little finger of his left hand. Florentine, Fifteenth Century

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

For signet rings, antique gems continued to be those most favored until the Renaissance period, and even to a considerable extent during this period. However, the development and elaboration of the science of heraldry and the great importance accorded to the possession of armorial bearings soon induced the engraving of these upon the signets, in preference to using antique gems or copying their types. In Elizabeth’s reign and in those of her immediate successors, it is believed that scarcely a gentleman was to be found who did not own and wear a signet ring on which appeared his coat-of-arms. Those not fortunate enough to have the right to display armorial bearings, sometimes sought to make their signets individual by using as designs rebuses expressing more or less well the pronunciation of their names.[260]

Arms were sometimes blazoned on rings by enamel applied to the base of a setting; thus the arms engraved on a rock-crystal or a white sapphire, would appear with their proper hues, the colors showing through the transparent stone, and their effect being heightened by the brilliant medium. A fine example of this kind of ring is one made for Jean Sans-Peur, Duke of Burgundy (1401–1419); another is the signet ring of Mary, Queen of Scots, now in the British Museum.[261]

Bequests of signets to near relatives occur not infrequently in wills of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, as for example in that of John Horton, dated 1565, wherein appears the following: “Item, I give unto my brother Anthony Horton, for a token, my golde ringe wth the seale of myne armes, desirenge him to be good to my wiffe and my childringe as my trust is in him.” Besides this seal ring, the testator willed “a golde ringe wth a turkes [turquoise] in it” to his “singular good Lord the Lord Eueerye,” with a plea for friendship toward his wife and children. A ring set with a diamond was bequeathed in 1427 by Elizabeth, Lady Fitzhugh to her son William.[262] This was almost certainly one of the uncut, pointed diamonds used for settings at this early time.

The signet ring of Mary Stuart is one of the chief treasures in the ring collection of the British Museum. It was made for her use after her betrothal to the French Dauphin, later, for a few months, King of France as Francis II (1543–1560), just before her marriage, as after that time the arms of France would have been combined with those of Scotland. The following description is given of this ring in the exceedingly valuable catalogue of the Franks Bequest by O. M. Dalton[263]:

316. Gold; the shoulders ornamented with flowers and leaves once enamelled; oval bezel containing a chalcedony engraved with the achievement of Mary, Queen of Scots. The shield is that of Scotland surrounded by the collar of the Thistle, with the badge, and supported by two unicorns chained and ducally gorged; the crest, on a helmet with mantlings and ensigned with a crown, is a lion sejant affronté, crowned and holding in the dexter paw a naked sword; in the sinister a sceptre, both bendwise. Legend: In Defens, and the letters M R. On the dexter side is a banner with the arms of Scotland; on the sinister side, another, with three bars and over all a saltire. The metals and tinctures appear through the crystal on a field of blue. Within the hoop at the back of the bezel is engraved a cipher in a circular band and surmounted by a crown, once enamelled. The cipher is formed of the Greek letter φ and M, for the names Francis and Mary.

In this example of sixteenth-century French goldsmithing, the colors of the arms have been applied beneath the crystal so that they would not be effaced in using the signet for sealing. In 1792 this ring was in the possession of Queen Charlotte, wife of George III. After her death it became the property of the Duke of York, and when his plate and jewels were sold at Christie’s, in London, March, 1827, it was bought by Mr. Richard Greene, F.S.A., and was acquired from him in 1856 by the British Museum.

A signet ring believed by many to be that of the immortal Shakespeare, was found on March 16, 1810. It was picked up on the surface of the mill-close that adjoins Stratford churchyard; the finder was the wife of a poor laborer. How lightly it was esteemed at the outset is shown by the low price at which it was acquired by Mr. R. B. Wheeler, who paid only thirty-six shillings ($9.00), considered to be the value of the fifteen pennyweights of gold in the ring. In fact, the only circumstances seeming to connect it with Shakespeare are the initials W. S., and the facts that the ring appears to be of Elizabethan workmanship and that it was found at Stratford-on-Avon, Shakespeare’s home.[264] The initial letters are bound together with a design composed of an ornamental band with tassels, so arranged as to outline a heart. A queer coincidence, if the report be true, is that a certain William Shakespeare was at work nearby when the ring was found.[265]

One of the somewhat less well-known Shakespeare portraits depicts the poet wearing a thumb ring on his left hand. This is the work of Gerald Soest, who was born twenty-one years after Shakespeare’s death; its inspiration is probably to be sought in the Chandos portrait of which it is an amplification and re-arrangement. The face, however, wholly lacks the dignity and expression of the Chandos, being exceedingly weak and commonplace. The hands give the effect of having been copied from those in some other portrait, and, of course, under all these circumstances we would scarcely be justified in assuming that Shakespeare wore a thumb ring, although he may well have done so, in view of the fact that the fashion was common enough in his time. Queen Elizabeth, even, is depicted as wearing one in Zucchero’s portrait of her at Hampton Court.[266]

1, Shakespeare’s gold signet ring, found in Stratford-upon-Avon, March 16, 1810. 2, brass signet supposed to be that of the physician, John Hall, Shakespeare’s son-in-law. 3, wax impression from Shakespeare’s ring. (Photographed expressly for this book as attested by signatures of Sir Sidney Lee, Chairman of the Executive Committee of “Shakespeare’s Birthplace,” and of the Librarian, F. C. Wellstood.) 4 and 5, gold signet ring owned by Lord Byron, with impression from it. The seal shows the crests and mottoes of three families. Photographed for this book. In the possession of Judge Peter T. Barlow, New York

Another English poet, that master of impassioned verse, Byron, had in his possession a most interesting bloodstone signet ring, engraved with the following three family mottoes: “Tout prest” (Quite ready), motto of the families Monk, Murray and Younger; “Confido, conquiesco” (I trust and am contented), motto of the Dysart, Hodgett, Maroy, Tollmache and Turner families; “Pour y parvenir” (In order to accomplish, or succeed), motto of the families Manners and Manners-Sutton. This ring was owned by Sir Walter Scott, and at the dispersal sale of his personal effects at Abbotsford it was acquired by the late Samuel Latham Mitchell Barlow, the great art connoisseur and collector, by whose son, Judge Peter T. Barlow, of New York, it has been inherited, in whose possession it now is, and through whose courtesy it is here reproduced.

Many interesting facts in regard to the history of the diamond engraved for Queen Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I, have been presented by Mr. C. Drury Fortnum, who purchased the diamond from the collection of the Duke of Brunswick in 1879.[267] In the catalogue of the Duke’s collection this stone is described as the signet of Mary, Queen of Scots, an attribution which had been current for many years; but Mr. Fortnum has shown that the initials on the diamond should be read MR, the cross-bar in the first character representing the letter H, and the whole signifying Maria Henrietta Regina.

Fortunately we have the original of the treasury order given by Charles I, under date of January 16, 1629, directing the payment of a sum of money to the engraver for his work. As this is probably the only case in which the original record of payment for engraving an historical diamond has been preserved, it is reproduced here from Mr. Fortnum’s paper in Archæologia.[268]

Charles by the grace of God King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c.

To the Trēr and Undertrēr of or Exchecqr for the time being greeting:

Wee doe hereby will and com̄and you out of or treasure remaining in the Receipt of or Exchecqr forthwith to pay or cause to be paid unto Francis Walwyn or his assignes the some of two hundred three-score and seven pounds for engraving, polishing, Dyamond boart and divers other materialls for the Cutting and furnishing of or Armes in a Dyamond with l’res of the name of or deerest Consort the queene on each side, And these or l’res shal be yor sufficient warrt and discharge in this behalfe.

Given under or privy Seal att or pallace of Westmr the sixteenth day of January in the fourth yeare of or Raigne.

Jo: Packer.

As a general rule a signet ring was one of the last objects of value that an owner would part with, but we know that after Charles’ execution Henrietta Maria was reduced to dire straits and was obliged to sell all her possessions in order to procure the bare necessaries of life. In Tavernier’s account of his travels in the East he states that in 1664, he showed to the representative of the Shah of Persia a ring engraved with the royal arms of England, and which had belonged “to the late King of England.” As letters and papers have been preserved, dating from 1656 to 1673, and sealed by Charles II with the diamond signet used by his father, we have proof that Charles II had that signet in his possession in 1664, and Mr. Fortnum’s conjecture that the engraved diamond in Tavernier’s hands was that of Henrietta Maria is plausible enough.

The Shah of Persia sent the diamond back to Tavernier, requesting information as to what was engraved upon it, but the French jeweller, fearing possible complications, did not venture to go beyond the vague statement that the stone bore the arms of a “European prince.” The Shah does not appear to have bought this diamond; probably he did not care much for historic souvenirs of European royalties, and possibly he doubted whether Tavernier had the right to offer for sale what might be the signet of a European monarch. However, the Shah’s minister did not fail to express his admiration of the skill shown by the “Franks” in the art of diamond-engraving.[269]

Already, in the Vetusta Monumenta of Astle, published by him in 1792, the seal is figured as that of Mary Queen of Scots, and is said to have been in the possession of Louis XIV. If this statement be correct, the signet might have been among the diamonds sold by Tavernier to Louis XIV, on the former’s return to Europe. It seems to have shared the fate of a large number of the jewels belonging to the French crown and to the royal family, and next appears in a sale held in London June 19, 1817, being described in the catalogue as “the engraved diamond ring of Mary, Queen of Scots, upon which are engraved the arms of England, Scotland and Ireland, quartered,” and authenticated by a communication from “that correct and learned antiquary the late Robert Gough, Esq.” to the following effect:

That it descended from Mary to her grandchild Charles I, who gave it on the scaffold to Arch Bishop Juxon for his son Charles II, who in his troubles pawned it in Holland for £300, where it was bought by Governor Yale and sold at his sale for £320, supposed for the Pretender. Afterwards it came into the possession of the Earl of Ilay, Duke of Argyle, and probably from him to Mr. Blashford.

In these statements there is probably a confusion between the diamond of Henrietta Maria, known later as that of Mary, Queen of Scots, and a diamond signet of Charles I, for such a signet is said to have been given to Bishop Juxon by Charles just before his execution. We have every reason to believe that Henrietta Maria bore her own signet with her when she left England.

The ring containing this historic diamond was purchased at the sale of June 19, 1817, by Dr. Curry (probably James Curry, M.D., physician at Guy’s Hospital) for the sum of £90 6s ($450), although a contemporary letter states that the sum was £86, and adds that the stone itself was worth but £10. The ring was subsequently acquired by an agent, Van Prague, and after passing through several hands came into the possession of Mr. Leverson, a diamond dealer of Paris, who sold it to the Duke of Brunswick. At one time it was owned by the Earl of Buchan, and it was exhibited at Holyrood in 1843, when several rock crystal models were made of it. One of these served Mr. Fortnum as a standard of comparison for the identification of the Duke of Brunswick’s diamond.

The stone is a table diamond and is engraved with the arms of England and France in the first and fourth quarters, with those of Scotland in the second quarter, and those of Ireland in the third. In 1887, on the occasion of Queen Victoria’s Jubilee, this signet was presented to the queen by Mr. Drury Fortnum, and it is now in the royal collection at Windsor Castle.[270]

RINGS FROM THE COLLECTION OF THE IMPERIAL KUNSTGEWERBE MUSEUM, VIENNA

1 and 3, rings of Empress Eleonora, wife of Ferdinand III (1608–1657); enameled gold; Seventeenth Century. 2, gold ring said to have belonged to Mary of Burgundy, daughter of Charles the Bold, and wife of Maximilian I., Emperor of Germany. Bears an M formed of black diamonds and has twice on the inner side the monogram of Maria in Gothic capitals. 4, ring with miniature portraits of Emperor Mathias and his wife Empress Anne; enameled gold; 1612–1619. 5, (a) ring with watch by Johann Putz of Augsburg, and (b) lid made of an emerald on which the Austrian double-eagle is engraved; Seventeenth Century. 6, ring with a sun-dial, the lid representing a hedgehog studded with black diamond lozenges; Seventeenth Century. 7 and 8, two rings set with topaz; enameled gold; Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century. 9, bronze ring, with head of Christ in white enamel on blue ground, the hair being of gold; Seventeenth Century. 10, ring set with a rock crystal, engraved with the arms of an Austrian archduke. On the inner side is a sun-dial; Seventeenth century. 11, ring with a miniature portrait of Empress Claudia Felicitas; enameled gold.

IMPRESSION OF SIGNET.

Double size linear.

SIGNET RING, CHARLES I.

Double size linear.

SIGNET RING OF CHARLES I

The richly ornamented gold hoop has on its shoulders a lion and a unicorn of chiseled steel. On the bezel is a steel plate engraved with the Royal arms, those of France and England in the first and fourth quarters; in the second, the arms of Scotland; and in the third, the Irish harp. On the sides of the gold base of the bezel is the inscription: “Dieu et mon droit,” inserted in steel letters

One of the most interesting engraved diamonds is the signet of Charles I of England, when Prince of Wales.[271] This is a large shield-shaped diamond engraved in intaglio with the Prince of Wales’ feathers between the letters C.P. and issuing from a coronet; on a ribbon beneath appears the motto ICH DIEN. The stone is set in a ring of enamelled gold. The engraving is finely executed and deeply cut. This signet has often been regarded as that of Charles II, but all doubt as to the original owner is set at rest by the existence of an autograph letter of Charles I, in the possession of M. Labouchère of Paris, bearing its impress.

The Royal Collection at Windsor Castle also contains the signet used by Charles I, as King. It has a richly ornamented hoop, to which are attached, at the shoulders, chiseled steel figures of a lion and a unicorn. The gold bezel has a steel facing constituting the seal. This is engraved with the royal arms; in the first and fourth quarters, the arms of England and of France; in the second quarter, those of Scotland; in the fourth quarter, the Irish harp. On the gold base of the bezel is the motto: Dieu et mon Droit, inserted in letters of steel. This constitutes an exceptionally fine example of composite metal-work. The archæologist, Rev. C. W. King, suggests that it may be the work of the “Inimitable Simon,” as he was called, who later engraved dies for the coinage of the Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, although he admits that it may have been executed by Vanderdoort, who was commanded in 1625 to make pattern pieces for the coinage of Charles I, at the beginning of the King’s reign.[272]

A signet ring used by Kaiser William II is set with a reddish-white onyx, on which has been engraved a shield bearing the German eagle, and surmounted by a crown and the letters, W. II. I. R., Wilhelm der Zweite, Imperator Rex. This signet belonged to the present Kaiser’s grandfather William I, and has been adapted to the present monarch’s use.

Signet rings were very popular in the latter part of the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth century. Then, later on, they were revived in the latter part of the nineteenth century, this revival continuing into the twentieth century. In the earlier period it was customary to engrave the crest and motto, or the full arms and motto, on the ring stone, which was generally bloodstone or carnelian, occasionally white chalcedony, more rarely lapis lazuli, in contradistinction to the large seal fobs, in which the favorite stones were amethyst, rock crystal, smoky topaz (quartz variety), pale chalcedony or some lighter colored material. Many signet rings were engraved upon gold, the sides of the rings being also engraved, as a general rule.

Since the year 1900, great interest has been aroused in seal rings, many of the designs of which are incised in gold or in platinum, the entire ring being of gold or platinum, or having a platinum disk set in a gold hoop. The entire variety of fancy stones is used: pale amethyst, ruby, beryl, aquamarine, zircon, garnet, sard which has been stained brown, carnelian (rarely), bloodstone, and jade—both the nephrite variety from New Zealand and Russia and the jadeite variety found at Bahmo, Burma. Occasionally the seals of rings are made of fine sapphires, emeralds, or rubies, and sell for from $1,000 to $10,000, or even more.

Seal rings were extensively worn in the period from about 1865 to 1885. Frequently these had absolutely nothing engraved upon them. The setting was often an oblong, rectangular onyx, sometimes one inch or one and a quarter inches long. Occasionally upon this was inset a rose diamond initial; or else the initial was cut upon the stone—when the onyx was black on top—rarely a crest. In many cases the stone was white above and pink below, a sardonyx, and the initial was cut through the light layer. Or else it was white or pale gray on a black ground. The general effect was thus gray, the gem being of the type known as nicolo.

Then came the cameo rings, with designs either black on white or brown on white, sardonyx; or white on green, chrysonyx. Later again taste developed for intaglio rings. In this instance, instead of stones of a brownish or whitish gray,—chalcedony,—those of a pale brown or a dark brown were chosen and these were called sard. Because of the brown hue, the term onyx was also applied to them. This must not be confused with the antique sard which resulted from burning a stone of a different hue, as in the case of the antique carnelian also. The translucent or opaque varieties, with rich red or dark brown top, were called sard, whereas the paler translucent and almost transparent varieties,—when pale red, yellowish red or almost yellow,—were called carnelian.

While the natal gem in a simple but effective setting is the most appropriate ring for a girl or boy, a small seal ring for the boy, when he is about 12 years old is not unfitting, the seal being so well-executed that it may serve him when he has reached manhood. For very young children, no stone can be given the preference over the turquoise, which in its delicacy and beauty of color cannot be excelled. Small pearls are also used, or tiny brilliant rubies.[273]

In a brightly-written tale for children, the style of which is rather pronouncedly “up-to-date,” a sapphire signet is an important element of the story. Long years ago, in the island of Bermuda, in the Revolutionary period, this heirloom was surreptitiously secured by a young girl, to whom it was destined on her coming of age, but who was childishly impatient to gain possession of it before the time. The little heroine comes to New York and under the stress of a weird Tory plot, hides away her signet in the false bottom of an old trunk, stored away in the garret of the Charlton Street house in which she has lived. Here, more than a century later, a group of bright children find a diary of the long-dead heroine written in cipher. One of them is clever enough to unravel this mystery and they finally succeed in finding the hidden signet.[274]

Gold ring with miniature portrait, given by Washington to Lafayette on the latter’s return to France. See pages 191 and 192. It is now in the possession of Mr. Gösta Frölén of Falun, Sweden

Photograph of two impressions in sealing wax, made by President Woodrow Wilson, of his seal ring, the inscription reading “Woodrow Wilson,” in Pitmanic shorthand. 1916

Episcopal seal of Right Rev. David H. Greer, Bishop of New York. Motto: Crux mihi grata quies (The Cross is my grateful rest). The shield bears the monogram of the bishop’s name, above which are two keys in saltire; below is the coat-of-arms of New Amsterdam. As crest is an Episcopal mitre

Two characteristic Oriental seal rings are owned by Miss Joan St. Michael Peters and Miss Katherine Harrower, both of New York City. The gems with which they are set were bought by the Rev. Dr. John P. Peters from an Arab, in the Kut-el-Amara region, where the British invaders of Mesopotamia underwent such a disastrous defeat. They are engraved carnelians. Miss Peters’ ring offers the design of a winged figure. The excellence of the cutting might seem to indicate that it was done some time between 500 B.C. and the beginning of our era, but a later date has been assigned to it by Prof. A. V. Williams Jackson of Columbia University, who pronounces it to be a Sassanian gem, and hence not older than the third Christian century. The other ring, that belonging to Miss Harrower, appears to be of the Seleucidan period, and may be dated from 300 to 200 B.C. The inscription, difficult to decipher, should be read “Khan” in Prof. Jackson’s opinion.

One of the most intrinsically valuable of ancient signets is that engraved for Constantius II (317–361 A.D.). This is of sapphire, the stone weighing 53 of the older carats (54.40 metric carats). The design shows the emperor in the act of spearing an enormous wild boar on the plains of Cæsarea, the Greek inscription xiphius denoting the sword-like tusks of the animal. The exploit is performed before a reclining female figure, a personification of the city Cæsarea of Cappadocia. A Latin inscription CONSTANTIUS. AUG is considered to prove that this is veritably the emperor’s signet. This remarkable gem is in the collection of Prince Trivulzio of Milan.[275]

A novel idea finds expression in the ring of President Wilson, on which he has had engraved his name in stenographic symbols. This is in thorough agreement with his aim to utilize business methods in the administration of national affairs, to do away with routine and take the most direct route to the solution of national problems. One of our two ex-Presidents, William H. Taft, sent us this reply: “I never wear a finger ring and never have done so. For that reason, I cannot comply with your request.”[276]

IV
SOME INTERESTING RINGS OF HISTORY

The principal types of the rings used as insignia, religious or secular, or as signets, as well as of those devoted to some special purpose or believed to possess talismanic or magic virtue are treated of in other chapters. There are many rings, however, which owe their chief or only interest to their association with some particular historic personage, event or period, while often the mere fact that the ornament has been owned by a famous person suffices to make it precious and interesting; in a number of cases the ring itself has been closely connected with some important historic happening or else with some cherished legend. Examples of this are the ring of Essex in Elizabeth’s time, and the legendary ring of Edward the Confessor, regarding the stone setting of which several discrepant accounts exist.

The Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris has in its Cabinet des Médailles, two massive gold rings, in each of which the chaton is formed by an ancient coin. In one is set a rare gold quinarius of Maximinus (235–238 A.D.) with his effigy, and the ring is believed to have been made during this giant emperor’s brief reign; the other bears a golden solidus probably of Clotaire II, King of the Franks, who reigned from 584 to 628 A.D. This coin shows a figure of the king with the name Chlotarius Rex, and the mint-mark of the city of Arras. The coin is more than ¾ inch in diameter.[277]

In a Frankish sepulchre at Laubenheim, near Bingen, Hessen-Darmstadt, was found a gold ring on the bezel of which is engraved the head of a woman, turned to the right, around which are the letters of the Gothic name Hunila. A princess of this name was married, about 280 A.D., to Quintus Bonosius, one of the Thirty Tyrants who established themselves in the Roman Empire during the short and troubled reign of Probus (280–281). While the ring we describe cannot be assigned to such an early period, but probably belongs to the end of the sixth or the beginning of the seventh century of our era, the intrinsic value and the workmanship, superior for the place and time, render it likely that this Hunila, also, was of royal race and station. In the sepulchre which yielded this ring there was a chain of amber and amethyst beads.[278]

The Persian poet-philosopher, Saadi, relates in his Gulistan, or “Garden of Roses,” a story illustrating how a happy chance may do more to help the attainment of a temporary success than special ability or training. A Persian sovereign, passionately devoted to archery, determined to make a crucial test of the skill of his most famous archers, and to stimulate their efforts by the bestowal of a rich prize. To this end he caused a ring set with an immensely valuable precious stone to be suspended above the dome of Azad on the mosque near Shiraz, and proclaimed to all men that this ring would be given to the one who succeeded in shooting an arrow through its hoop. Despite the apparent impossibility of the task, several hundred of the Shah’s archers strove to fulfil the conditions of the trial, but in vain. Suddenly the Shah and his companions, who were closely watching the contest, saw, to their amazement, an arrow speed through the air and exactly traverse the ring. None of the archers before the mosque had been shooting at the moment, and only after a careful search had been made did it come out that the arrow had been shot off by a youth at play in a nearby garden of a monastery. Nevertheless, the royal word had been pledged, and the ring was adjudged to the youth. The latter, however, showed his wisdom by breaking his bow and arrows, and never trying another shot, thus keeping unsullied his reputation as a great archer.[279]

One of the Latin treatises of Petrarch tells of a carbuncle or ruby, worn set in a ring by John II of France, and believed to possess talismanic power. The poet remarks, however, that this stone did not preserve the King from being defeated and made prisoner at the battle of Poitiers in 1356. This ruby was taken by the English, but was returned to John several years later, so that he was able again “to see an object of infinite value, but of no use whatever.” While admitting the beauty of gems, Petrarch did not share the belief common in his day that they possessed occult powers.[280] Of the diamond he says that, while in ancient times it was a gem worn only by kings, in his own day luxury and pride had increased to such an extent that many who were not kings possessed the stone, and even some of the common people wore it on their fingers.[281]

A ring called the “Friday Ring” is listed among the jewels of Charles V of France (1337–1380), in the inventory made in 1379. This had on either side a double black cross in niello work, and was set with a cameo bearing a crucifix and the figures of the Virgin Mary, St. John and two angels. The name was derived from the fact that the king wore this ring every Friday, doubtless in memory of the Crucifixion, which took place on that day.[282] There is also mention of another ring, set with a large ruby, “the form of a halfbean. This is the ruby which belonged to St. Louis (1215–1270), and which has always been guarded successively by the kings of France.”[283] There seems to be some likelihood that this was the highly prized ruby lost by King John II about 1357, and in this case it must have been restored to the French treasury. Still another ring was set with a large ruby, called the “ruby de la Caille,” which had formerly belonged to the dukes of Brittany and had been given to King Charles by Monseigneur d’Anjou. A note to this inventory informs us that the term “ruby d’Alexandrie,” so often met with in old French lists of jewels, denotes a ruby bought in Alexandria, where many of the finest precious stones from the East were dealt in during medieval times.[284]

The battlefield of Agincourt, in the department of Pas-de-Calais, not far removed from the trenches of the Anglo-French army in the great war of to-day, was visited in 1815 by General Sir John Woodford, who was serving with the Grenadier Guards. Hoping to unearth a few relics of the famous battle he had some excavations made, and his efforts were rewarded by the discovery of several knightly rings inscribed with mottoes or posies. About 1850 one of these rings, which had probably been worn by a French noble, was shown at a meeting of the London Archæological Institute. The battle of Agincourt, where the French army was decisively defeated by Henry V of England, was fought October 25, 1415, on the day of Sts. Crispin and Crispian, and inspired Shakespeare with the following proud lines addressed by the English king to his soldiers:

And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remembered.

Hungary’s great hero, John Hunyady (1387?-1456), had in his coat of arms a raven holding a ring in its beak. The legendary explanation of this is that King Sigismund once gave a ring to his mistress, the hero’s mother, as a passport for entrance to the court. One day the royal parent wished to see his offspring, and the child’s uncle received orders to bring it to the court. On his way thither, while traversing a piece of woodland, the man came to a clearing and sat down on the grass to repose himself, giving the precious ring, his token to the king, to the child as a plaything. Suddenly a raven swooped down from a tree, picked up the ring and flew away with it; but the man caught up a bow he had with him and sped a shaft after the bird, which fell dead to the ground with the ring still tightly held in its beak. When, in later years, the illegitimate child grew up and finally ascended the throne of Hungary, this event was figured on his coat of arms by the emblems of the raven and the ring.[285]

When the Constable Louis of Luxembourg was condemned to death in 1475, in the reign of Louis XI of France, he drew from his finger a small gold ring set with a diamond and requested the father confessor to offer it to the image of Our Lady of Paris. Then, turning to the Franciscan monk, Jean de Sordun, he said: “Here is a stone I have long worn on my neck and which I have greatly prized, for it resists poison, and also protects against pestilence. I pray you to take this stone for me to my son, to whom you will say that I beg him to keep it for love of me.” This touching mission was never fulfilled, for after the execution of the Constable, the court ordered that the stone should be given to King Louis. The diamond ring, however, was duly dedicated to the image of the Virgin.[286] Of Louis XI himself, the chronicler quaintly says: “Before his death he suffered much from various diseases for the cure of which the physicians who attended him concocted dreadful and wonderful medicines. May these illnesses procure the salvation of his soul!”[287]

Some interesting historic rings are in the fine collection of Dr. Albert Figdor, Vienna. One of them is a gold ring believed to have belonged to Mary of Burgundy, (d. 1482) daughter of Charles the Bold, and wife of Maximilian I of Germany. On the ring is the letter M formed of black diamonds, and the monogram of the name Maria, in Gothic characters, appears twice on its inner side. Two enameled gold rings of Empress Eleonora, third wife of Ferdinand III of Germany (1608–1657), are good examples of seventeenth century work. More interesting is a ring bearing miniature portraits of Emperor Mathias of Germany (1557–1619) and his wife Empress Anne.[288]

The first historical instance of writing with a diamond point concerns Francis I, who wrote, with the diamond of his ring, upon a pane of glass in the Castle of Chambord, the following oft-quoted lines:

Souvent femme varie,

Mal habile qui s’y fie.

The king “engraved” these lines in such a conspicuous place that they might be seen by his favorite, Anne de Pisseleu, Duchesse d’Estampes, and make it clear to her that his jealousy was aroused by her conduct.[289] The story runs that the celebrated sister of Francis, Marguerite de Valois, authoress of the Heptameron, who was on very friendly terms with the Duchesse d’Estampes, immediately capped this distich by writing with her diamond-point the following rejoinder:[290]

Souvent homme varie,

Bien folle qui s’y fie.

Brantôme, who relates that he saw the window-pane inscription of Francis I at Chambord, merely cites the first words: “Souvent femme varie,” and as there is considerable lack of agreement as to the second line, this may have been added by those who reported the writing, according to their own idea of what a continuation should be. There is a rather vague rumor that the glass was broken out by order of Louis XIV, the fact being that it is no longer in existence and evidently disappeared at least a couple of centuries ago.[291]

PORTRAIT OF A LADY, PAINTED IN COLOGNE, ABOUT 1526.

>Ring set with a pointed diamond on index of right hand, small ring on little finger of the same hand; two rings on index of left hand and one on fourth finger of the same hand; all set with precious stones

Königliche Gemälde-Galerie, Cassel

PORTRAIT OF A MAN, BY HANS FUNK, PAINTED IN 1523

Large seal ring on right hand forefinger and two on left hand, one on forefinger and one on fourth finger

Gallery at Basel, Switzerland

A ring set with a pyramidal diamond, one of the type used by Francis I on this occasion, is shown in the Londesborough Collection. This ring, which dates from the sixteenth century and is of Italian workmanship, is known as a “tower ring,” possibly because those confined in the Tower of London were able to use such rings for writing names or verses upon the windowpanes of their prison.[292]

Still another story of diamond-point writing, probably even less well attested than the anecdote of Francis I, is that referring to Queen Elizabeth and Sir Walter Raleigh.[293] On the occasion of an interview with the wily queen, Sir Walter, rather distrustful of the royal encouragement accorded him, is said to have gone to a window in the royal audience chamber and written on the window-pane with his diamond ring:

Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall.

For answer the queen scratched beneath this the following admonition, at once an encouragement and a warning:

If thy heart fail thee, do not climb at all.

An eighteenth century instance of diamond-point writing on a pane of glass was reported in an old newspaper.[294] A celebrated English beauty of the eighteenth century, while sojourning at the famous English watering-place, Bath, wrote on a window-pane the following impromptu lines:

In vain, in vain is all you’ve said,

For I’m resolved to die a Maid.

In answer to this a gentleman of her acquaintance cut this rejoinder, the idea being better than the rhyme:

The Lady who this resolution took,

Wrote it on Glass to show it might be broke.

The visitor who relates this states that on returning to Bath at a later time, he found that the window-pane had been removed, and a new one substituted. Did this mean that the vow had been broken?

MEDAL SHOWING RING, STRUCK IN 1578 FOR JOHN CASIMIR, COUNT PALATINE, TO COMMEMORATE HIS ALLIANCE WITH THE DUKE OF ANJOU AGAINST THE SPANISH IN THE LOW COUNTRIES

The clasped hands signify indissoluble friendship; the palm and olive branches, victory and peace; and the diamond, courage

MEDAL SHOWING RING, STRUCK FOR HENRI II OF FRANCE, IN 1554, IN COMMEMORATION OF HIS CAMPAIGN TO FLANDERS

The diamond is a symbol of dauntless courage; the crowned fish probably denotes the ruler of Flanders; the palm branch and olive branch above signify the French King’s victory

PORTRAIT OF DIANE DE POITIERS (1499–1566)

Mistress of Henri II of France, who gave her the splendid Château de Chenonceaux. She had great artistic taste and possessed many jewels. To her ability, knowledge and power were due some of the finest architectural and mobiliary achievements of the period.

Musée de Versailles

The use of rings set with natural diamond-points in a symbolical sense, as in the case of the three interlaced rings forming the impresa of Cosimo de’ Medici, probably had to do with the ancient tradition that the diamond conferred courage or even invincibility upon the wearer. It is in this sense that this type of ring is figured on the reverse of certain “campaign medals” issued in commemoration of important expeditions. Such is the medal struck for Henri II of France when, in 1554, he set out from Champagne to invade Flanders. On the reverse of this medal there is within the ring a palm branch and an olive branch, significant of an unconquerable soul and of victory. Across the bottom of the hoop is a fish of a species very common in Flanders, on the head of which is a crown, this apparently denoting the ruler of that land. The diamond emphasizes the idea of an unbroken and unconquered soul. In a similar though slightly different sense must be explained the diamond-set ring on a “campaign medal” struck in 1578 for John Casimir, Count Palatine; this is also a memorial of one of the periodical incursions into unhappy Flanders. As the Count Palatine was at this time in alliance with the then Duke of Anjou, brother of Henri III of France, the hoop of the ring terminates in two clasped hands, denoting the fast friendship of the allies, which was, however, of very uncertain duration.

The rich Arundel Collection, chiefly brought together by a Lord Howard of Arundel, towards the end of the seventeenth century, incorporated in the Marlborough Cabinet and later dispersed, included a beautifully adorned gold ring set with a splendid lapis lazuli on which a Roman engraver had cut the design of Hercules wrestling with Antæus. The hoop of this ring is ornamented on the inside with two fleur-de-lys in white enamel, the entire ring being covered with arabesques of entwined vine branches in black enamel. In his description, Rev. C. W. King conjectures from the style of ornamentation that the ring may have belonged to one of the Valois kings of France.[295]

On the accession of Frederick the Great, he is said to have found in the royal treasury a case containing a ring, accompanied by a memorandum to the following effect, in the handwriting of King Frederick I (1688–1740): “This ring was given to me by my father on his death-bed, with the reminder that so long as it was preserved in the House of Brandenburg, this would not only prosper, but would grow and increase.” The way in which Frederick the Great spoke of this ring illustrates at once his habitual scepticism and his devotion to family tradition, for while declaring that he put no faith in the peculiar virtues of such an object, he gave strict injunctions that it should be carefully preserved. A rather doubtful tradition designates this ring as the one said to have been surreptitiously removed from the hand of Frederick William I, when he was dying, by the Countess Lichtenau. The dying king feebly protesting against this spoliation, murmured: “Her den Ring” (Give back the ring), but the countess saved the situation by saying to those assembled in the deathchamber: “He wants to have a herring!” This same tradition attributes the subsequent disastrous defeat of Prussia by Napoleon I to the loss of the ring, which the countess finally yielded to Frederick William III in 1813, whereupon the fortunes of war changed and Prussia was avenged for her humiliations.

Hofrath Schneider, for a long time reader to Emperor William I, relates that when he questioned that monarch touching the story of the ring, he only learned that it had been a long time in the Hohenzollern family; that it was an old-fashioned ring, and that it was set with “a plain, dark-colored stone.” Emperor William did not display much interest in the matter and did not appear to have any superstitious reverence for the ring.[296]

An old Portuguese ring has a half-sphere of rock crystal set in silver. At the side of the bezel is a minute catch, and when this is put back, the crystal setting, hinged on the opposite side, can be raised, revealing beneath a tiny St. Andrews cross in gold, with a small ruby set in the centre. This ring is in the possession of an Englishman, a descendant of the Duke of Peterborough who fought in the Peninsula War under Wellington. In one of the battles he was seriously wounded, and was kindly and carefully nursed by a Portuguese family. A not unnatural result was that he fell in love with one of the daughters and married her. The ring is said to have formed part of her ancestral jewels, and this may be regarded as a characteristic example of the Portuguese art of the past in ring-making.[297]

A gold ring, said to be one of six made for distribution among the conspirators who planned Napoleon’s escape from Elba in March, 1815, is to be seen in the British Museum. The bezel has a hinged lid, on the inner side of which is engraved in relief the head of Napoleon; on the outer side is an enamelled design showing three flowers on stems, a laurel wreath running around the edge.[298] Whether the story of its having belonged to one of the conspirators be true or not, the concealment of the Napoleon head shows that this ring was made for, and worn by, an adherent of the fallen emperor, at a time when it would have been dangerous to proclaim his loyalty openly.