It was a belief among the Poles that each month of the year was under the influence of a precious stone. Thus January was represented by the garnet, emblem of constancy and fidelity; February, the amethyst, sincerity; March, bloodstone, courage and presence of mind; April, diamond, innocence; May, emerald, success in love; June, agate, health and long life; July, cornelian, contented mind; August, sardonyx, conjugal felicity: September, chrysote, antidote against madness; October, opal, hope; November, topaz, fidelity; December, turquoise, prosperity. These several stones were set in rings and other trinkets, as presents, &c.
In the early and middle ages it was not only generally believed that rings could be charmed by the power of a magician, but that the engraved stones on ancient rings which were found on old sites possessed supernatural properties, the benefits of which would be imparted to the wearer.
The great potentate Charlemagne, we are told by old French writers, was, in his youth, desperately in love with a young and beautiful woman, and gave himself up to pleasure in her society, neglecting the affairs of State. She died, and Charles was inconsolable at her loss. The Archbishop of Cologne endeavoured to withdraw him from her dead body, and at length, approaching the corpse, took from its mouth a ring in which was set a precious stone of remarkable beauty. It was the talisman which had charmed the monarch, whose passionate grief became now immediately subdued. The body was buried, and the Archbishop, fearing lest Charles might experience a similar magical effect in another seducer, threw it into a lake near Aix-la-Chapelle. The virtue of this marvellous ring was not, however, lost by this incident, for the legend relates that the monarch became so enamoured of the lake that his chief delight was in walking by its margin, and he became so much attached to the spot that he had a palace erected there, and made it the seat of his empire.
In the Persian Tales a king strikes off the hand of a sorceress (who had assumed the appearance of his queen), which had a ring upon it, when she immediately appears as a frightful hag.
The charmed ring of Aladdin plays a wonderful part in the ‘Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.’
One of the earliest ring superstitions in our own country, is that connected with the life of Edward the Confessor. In the mortuary chapel of this saintly monarch in Westminster Abbey are fourteen subjects in relievi, represented on the frieze of the screen on the western side, of incidents in the King’s life, in which the legend of the ‘Pilgrim’ (derived from a chronicle written by Ælred—a monk, and, later, abbot of Rievaulx, who died in 1166—but taken almost entirely from the life of St. Edward, by Osbert or Osbern, of Clare, prior of Westminster). is curiously displayed. The whole length of this sculpture is thirty-eight feet six inches by three feet in height. The relief is very bold, the irregular concave ground being much hollowed out behind. The compartment relating to the ring represents St. John, in the garb of a pilgrim, asking alms of the King. The figures are much injured. The monarch occupies the centre of the compartment, and a pilgrim or beggar is before him on the spectator’s right hand. Behind the King is a figure holding a pastoral staff—probably an ecclesiastic—and in front of whom, between the King and himself,—is an object not easily defined, but which appears like a basket. This design is interesting, from the back-ground being entirely filled in by a large and handsome church. This refers to the subject mentioned by Ælred, of the King being engaged in the construction of a church in honour of St. John, when the pilgrim appeared and asked alms.
According to the legend, King Edward was on his way to Westminster, when he was met by a beggar, who implored him in the name of St. John—the apostle peculiarly venerated by the monarch—to grant him assistance. The charitable King had exhausted his ready-money in alms-giving, but drew from his finger a ring, ‘large, beautiful, and royal,’ which he gave to the beggar, who thereupon disappeared. Shortly afterwards, two English pilgrims in the Holy Land found themselves benighted, and in great distress, when suddenly the path before them was lighted up, and an old man, white and hoary, preceded by two tapers, accosted them. Upon telling him to what country they belonged, the old man, ‘joyously like to a clerk,’ guided them to a hostelry, and announced that he was John the Evangelist, the special patron of King Edward, and gave them a ring to carry back to the monarch, with the warning that in six months’ time the King would be with him in Paradise. The pilgrims returned and found the King at his palace, called from this incident ‘Havering atte Bower.’ He recognised the ring, and prepared for his end accordingly. On the death of the Confessor, according to custom, he was attired in his royal robes, the crown on his head, a crucifix and gold chain round his neck, and the ‘Pilgrim’s Ring’ on his finger. The body was laid before the high altar at Westminster Abbey (A.D. 1066). On the translation of the remains of Henry the Second, the ring of St. John is said to have been withdrawn, and deposited as a relic among the crown jewels.[30] During the reign of Henry III. some repairs were made at the tower, and orders were given for drawing in the chapel of St. John two figures of St. Edward holding out a ring and delivering it to St. John the Evangelist.
As a proof, also, how this beautiful legend was engrafted on the popular mind in after ages, we find it stated in the account of the coronation of Edward II. (1307), that the King offered, first a pound of gold, made like a king holding a ring in his hand, and afterwards a mark, or eight ounces of gold, formed into the likeness of a pilgrim putting forth his hand to receive the ring, a conceit suggested by the legend of the Confessor. So great was the sanctity in which this monarch (who was influenced by childish and superstitious fancies) was held, that Richard II., whenever he left the kingdom, confided the ring which he usually wore to the custodian of St. Edward’s shrine.
‘It appears,’ observes Mr. Edmund Waterton (‘Archæological Journal,’ No. 82, 1864), ‘that St. Edward’s ring was deposited with his corpse in his tomb. His translation took place on the third of the ides of October (October 13), A.D. 1163, ninety-seven years after the burial. This ceremony was performed at midnight, and on opening his coffin the body was found to be incorrupt. On this occasion the Abbot Lawrence took from the body of the sainted king his robes and the ring of St. John; of the robes the abbot made three copes, as appears from the following entry in the catalogue of the relics of the saint. The abbot also gave the ring to the abbey: “Dompnus Laurentius quondam abbas hujus loci ... sed et annulo ejusdem (Sancti Edwardi) quem Sancto Johanni quondam tradidit, quem et ipse de paradiso remisit, elapsis annis duobus et dimidio, postea in nocte translationis de digito regis tulit, et pro miraculo in loco isto custodiri jussit.” The same manuscript (“De Fundacione ecclesie Westm.” by Ric. Sporley, a monk of the abbey, A.D. 1450), contains the indulgences to be gained by those who visited the holy relics:—“Ad annulum Sancti Edwardi vj. ann. iijc. xi. dies.” No further mention has been found of St. Edward’s ring.’[31]
Another legendary story, in connection with saintly interposition, is related in the annals of Venice. Moreover, it forms the subject of a painting, attributed (though with some doubt) to Giorgione, ‘St. Mark staying, miraculously, the tempest,’ in the Accademia Picture Gallery at Venice.