When Charles VIII. of France crossed the Alps, he descended into Piedmont and the Montferrat, which was governed by two Regents, Princes Charles Jean Aimé and Guillaume Jean. They advanced to meet Charles, each at the head of a numerous and brilliant court and shining with jewels. Charles, aware that, notwithstanding their friendly indications, they had, nevertheless, signed a treaty with his enemy, received them with the greatest courtesy; and as they were profuse in their professions of amity, he suddenly required of them a proof: it was, to lend him the diamonds they then wore. The two regents could but obey a request which possessed all the characteristics of a command. They took off their rings and other trinkets, for which Charles gave them a detailed receipt and, then, pledged them for twenty-four thousand ducats.[246]
§ 15. When the Roman slave was allowed his liberty, he received, with a cap and white vest, a ring. The ring was of iron.[247] We have not heard the origin of this stated, but it appears to us it was gathered from the fable of Prometheus. The slave had been fastened, as it were, to the Caucasus of bondage; and when freed from that, he had, still, as Prometheus had, to wear an iron ring, by way of remembrance. He was not permitted to have one of gold, for that was a badge of citizenship.[248] However, vanity is inherent in bond and free; and slaves began to cover their iron rings with gold, while others presumed to wear the precious metals alone.[249] The iron rings of slaves were alluded to by Statius, who died about thirty years later than Pliny.[250] Apuleius introduces a slave, with an iron ring, bearing a device.
We all remember Moore’s lines, beginning with:
“Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.”
This was rather an Irish way of wearing a ring, on the top of a snow-white wand, instead of upon a lily-white finger. The poet works out and polishes and varnishes these verses from the following story in Warren’s History of Ireland:[251] A young lady, of great beauty, adorned with jewels and a costly dress, undertook a journey alone, from one end of the kingdom to the other, with a wand only in her hand, at the top of which was a ring of exceeding great value; and such an impression had the laws and government of the then monarch, Brian Borholme, made on the minds of all the people that no attempt was made upon her honor, nor was she robbed of her clothes or jewels. Ireland may or not be changed since that time; yet the monarch Brian does not seem to have worked through moral suasion, if we may believe an Irish verse-maker, who certainly uses neither the delicacy of sentiment nor the polish of Moore:
“Oh, brave King Brian! he knew the way
To keep the peace and to make them pay;
For those who were bad, he knocked off their head;
And those who were worse, he kilt them dead.”