The turquoise was valuable enough for princely gift. Anne of Brittany, young and beautiful, Queen of Louis the Twelfth of France, sent a turquoise ring to James the Fourth of Scotland, who fell at Flodden. Scott refers to it:
“For the fair Queen of France
Sent him a turquoise ring and glove;
And charged him, as her knight and love,
For her to break a lance.”
And, in a note, he says that a turquoise ring, “probably this fatal gift,” is (with James’s sword and dagger) preserved in the College of Heralds, London; and gives the following quotation from Pittscottie: “Also, the Queen of France wrote a love-letter to the King of Scotland, calling him her love, showing him that she had suffered much rebuke in France for the defending of her honor. She believed surely that he would recompense her again with some of his kingly support in her necessity, that is to say, that he would raise her an army and come three foot of ground, on English ground, for her sake. To that effect she sent him a ring off her finger, with fourteen hundred French crowns to pay his expenses.”
Some of the trials of life which Richard Bertie and his wife Catharine, Duchess of Suffolk, underwent,[263] are matters of history. They arose from the zeal of the Duchess for the Reformation in the reign of Edward VI. and through the malice of Bishop Gardiner. The lady had in her “progress” caused a dog in a rochet (part of a bishop’s dress) to be carried and called by Gardiner’s name. They had an only son Peregrine Bertie, who claimed and obtained the Barony of Willoughby of Eresby. He was sent as general of auxiliaries into France; and did good service at the siege of Paris and by the reduction of many towns. His troops were disbanded with great commendation; and Lord Willoughby received a present of a diamond ring from the King of France.[264] This ring he, at his death, left his son, with a charge, upon his blessing, to transmit it to his heirs. Queen Elizabeth wrote a free letter inviting him back to England, beginning it, “Good Peregrine.” His will is a remarkable one. It begins thus: “In the name of the blessed divine Trynitie in persons and of Omnipotent Unitye in Godhead, who created, redeemed and sanctified me, whom I steadfastlye beleeve will glorifye this sinfull, corruptyble and fleshely bodie, with eternal happiness by a joyeful resurrection at the general Judgment, when by his incomprehensible justice and mercye, having satisfied for my sinfull soule, and stored it uppe in his heavenlye treasure, his almightye voyce shall call all fleshe to be joyned together with the soule to everlasting comforte or discomforte. In that holye name I Pergrin Bertye,” etc., etc., etc. He was once confined to his bed with the gout and had an insulting challenge sent him, to which he answered, “That although he was lame of his hands and feet, yet he would meet his adversary with a piece of a rapier in his teeth.” His idea of a “carpet knight” is observable in his saying, that “a court became a soldier of good skill and great spirit as a bed of down would one of the Tower lions.”
Richard Boyle, who, by personal merit, obtained a high position and is known as the “great Earl of Cork,” did not forget his early life. When he was in the height of his prosperity, he committed the most memorable circumstances of his life to writing, under the title of “True Remembrances;” and we find the mention of a ring which his mother had given him: “When first I arrived in Ireland, the 23d of June, 1588, all my wealth then was twenty-seven pounds three shillings in money and two tokens which my mother had given me, viz. a diamond ring, which I have ever since and still do wear, and a bracelet of gold worth about ten pounds; a taffety doublet cut with and upon taffety; a pair of black silk breeches laced; a new Milan fustian suit laced and cut upon taffety, two cloaks, competent linen and necessaries, with my rapier and dagger; and, since, the blessing of God, whose heavenly providence guided me hither, hath enriched my weak estate in the beginning with such a fortune as I need not envy any of my neighbors, and added no care or burthen to my conscience thereunto.”[265]
We have mentioned Shakspeare’s signet-ring. It is of gold and was found on the sixteenth day of March in the year one thousand eight hundred and ten, by a laborer’s wife upon the surface of the mill-close, adjoining Stratford churchyard. The weight is twelve penny-weights; it bears the initials W. S.; and was purchased by Mr. R. B. Wheeler (who has published a Guide to Stratford-upon-Avon[266]) for thirty-six shillings, the current value of the gold. It is evidently a gentleman’s ring of the time of Elizabeth; and the crossing of the central lines of the W. with the oblique direction of the lines of the S. exactly agree with the character of that day. There is a connection or union of the letters by an ornamental string and tassels, known commonly as a “true lover’s knot”—the upper bow or flourish of which forms the resemblance of a heart. On the porch of Charlcote House near Stratford, erected in the early part of Elizabeth’s reign by the very Sir Thomas Lucy said to have persecuted Shakspeare for deer stealing, the letters T. L. are surrounded in a manner precisely similar. Allowing that this was Shakspeare’s ring, it is the only existing article which originally belonged to him.
Singularly enough, a man named William Shakspeare was at work near the spot when this ring was picked up.[267] Little doubt can be entertained that it belonged to the poet and is probably the one he lost before his death and was not to be found when his will was executed, the word hand being substituted for seale in the original copy of that document. The only other person at Stratford having the same initials and likely to possess such a seal was William Smith, but he used one having a different device, as may be seen from several indentures preserved amongst the records of the corporation. Halliwell believes in the authenticity of this relic. Mr. Wheeler, its owner, says: “Though I purchased it upon the same day for 36s. (the current value of the gold) the woman had sufficient time to destroy the precious ærugo, by having it unnecessarily immersed in aquafortis, to ascertain and prove the metal, at a silversmith’s shop, which consequently restored its original color.”