The Pope drew one from his finger: ‘I can give you,’ he said, ‘this one, for it is indeed my own; take it: but the other is the Ring of the Fisherman, and must descend to my successor.’

‘It will pass first to me, holy father,’ exclaimed Haller, ‘and if you do not surrender it quietly it will be taken from you by force.’

To escape further insult the Fisherman’s Ring was given up, but as it was found to be intrinsically of no value it was soon afterwards restored to the Pontiff.

The ring of Pius the Ninth is of plain gold, weighing one and a half ounces, and it was made from the gold which composed the Ring of the Fisherman of Pope Gregory the Sixteenth.[49]

The Fisherman’s Ring is always in the custody of the Grand Papal Chamberlain. It is taken to the Conclave, or Council of the Cardinals, with the space left blank for the name; and as soon as a successful scrutiny of votes for a new Pope has taken place, the newly-elected Pontiff is declared, and conducted to the throne of St. Peter, where, before the cardinals have rendered homage to their chief, the Grand Chamberlain approaches, and, placing the Papal ring on the finger of the new Pope, asks him what name he will take. On the reply of the Pontiff, the ring is given to the first Master of the Ceremonies to have the name engraved on it that has been assumed. The announcement of the pontifical election is then made to the people from the balcony of the Papal palace.

Kissing the Pope’s ring as an act of reverent homage is a custom which has descended to our own times. One of the important ceremonies at the opening of the great Œcumenical Council at Rome (December 8, 1869) was that every single primate, patriarch, bishop, and mitred abbot, who were present on this solemn occasion at St. Peter’s, and who were to take part in the Council, paused before Pius the Ninth, and, in an attitude of profound reverence, kissed his ring. As high dignitaries they were exempted from kissing the Pope’s toe, a condescension reserved for the laity and lower clergy.

In Bishop Bale’s ‘Image of Both Churches’ occurs a curious passage on the subject of episcopal rings: ‘Neyther regarde they to knele any more doune, and to kisse their pontifical ryngs, which are of the same metall’ (i.e. fine gold).

It would seem that the Popes were formerly buried in their pontifical habits and ornaments. In the ‘Journal’ of Burcard, Master of the Ceremonies in the Pope’s chapel from Sixtus the Fourth to Julius the Second, he mentions as having, by virtue of his office, thus clothed the body of Sixtus the Fourth, and amongst other things a sapphire ring of the value of three hundred ducats was placed on his finger, and so little trust was placed in the honesty of those who came to see the body that guards were placed to prevent the ring and other ornaments from being stolen.[50]

In 1482 Cardinal d’Estouteville, Archbishop of Rouen, was buried with great magnificence at Rome, where he died. The body of the prelate was arrayed in the richest robes of cloth of gold, and his fingers were covered with rings of the greatest rarity and beauty. The brilliancy of the jewels (observes Dom Pommeraye in his ‘Lives of the Archbishops of Rouen’) excited the cupidity of the canons of St. Mary Major at Rome, where he was interred, insomuch that they threw themselves on the body, and struggled with each other to get at the rings. The monks of St. Augustine, who also attended on this occasion, pretended to be highly scandalized at this profanation—‘peut-être,’ however, ‘pour avoir part au butin’—and attempted on their part to seize the rings. In this unclerical skirmish the body of the archbishop was entirely stripped of its gorgeous trappings, and left naked, a piteous spectacle.

Matthew Paris informs us that archbishops, bishops, and abbots, with other principals of the clergy, were buried in their pontificalibus; thus ‘they prepared the body of Hubert, Archbishop of Canterbury, for the burial, closing him in his robes, with his face uncovered, and a mitre put on his head, with gloves upon his hands, a ring on his finger, and all the other ornaments belonging to his office.’