During the latter period of the Middle Ages the grim and ascetic contemplation of death caused the artists of that period to represent it as the devil, the father of sin, horned and cloven-hoofed, carrying off the sinful souls and forcing them into the mouth of hell. But when during the fifteenth century "printing excited men's imaginations, when the first discovery of the ancient classics roused their emulation and stimulated their unrest, when the Renaissance in art increased their eagerness to express their thoughts and multiplied their method of expression,"[193] and their conscience was turned to the latter end and the unseen world, then at length did death appear, no longer as the father of sin, but altered into a familiar and human personification.
Side by side with the strange vigour and extraordinary joy in life that marked the period, there existed a great contempt for the value of life and a gross familiarity with death. It was Death himself, according to the imagination of the sixteenth century, who, always at hand, clutched men of every age and condition by the sleeve and hurried them all unwillingly away.
The emblems of death were always presented in close touch with the living. The forms they took—the skeleton, or simply the skull, or Death's head, with cross-bones—were rendered in the sixteenth century by both painter and sculptor; but it was reserved for the goldsmith—the sculptor and painter in one—to represent them on jewellery through the medium of the precious metals enriched with gems and coloured enamels. They figured on every kind of ornament. Brooches with enamelled skulls were fastened as enseignes upon the hat; golden jewels like funereal objects in shape of coffins holding enamelled skeletons hung from the neck; rosary beads, pomanders and watches in the form of human skulls were attached to the waist; and rings bearing Death's heads and other emblems were worn upon the fingers.
A great impetus was given to the use of such articles of adornment by Diana of Poitiers when she became mistress of Henry II of France. She was then a widow in mourning; and the complaisant Court not only adopted her black and white as the fashionable colour, but covered their personal ornaments with emblems of death.
Jewels of this description, it is clear, were not necessarily carried in remembrance of any special individual. With their legend "Memento Mori" they were simply reminders of Death in the abstract. As such they characterised exactly the temper of the time, and were quite commonly worn by the upper and middle classes, especially by those who affected a respectable gravity. At the time of which we now speak the personal badge or devise, an obscure expression of some particular conceit of its wearer, was at the height of fashion. In its elaboration the various emblems of death were largely put under contribution, their choice for the purpose being the outcome of the special disposition of those who adopted them. Perhaps the most notable instance of the representation of a badge of this kind is in Holbein's famous "Ambassadors," in the National Gallery. Here Jean de Dinteville, who stands on the left of the picture, wears a circular jewel formed of a white enamelled skull in a gold mount, pinned as an enseigne to the lower rim of his small black bonnet.
Amongst sundry ornaments bearing mortuary devices, there is a good example at South Kensington—a Memento Mori charm of enamelled gold in the form of a coffin containing a minutely articulated skeleton. It is English work of the Elizabethan period, and was found at Tor Abbey, Devonshire (Pl. XLIV, 16).
No article of decoration has been more extensively used as a "Memento Mori" or for memorial purposes than the finger ring. The association of the ring is largely with affairs of the heart, and lovers are united with it. And since the form itself is emblematic of eternity, so by this same token of affection has the memory of departed friends been kept green.
The sepulchral emblems referred to were not made use of for mediæval ornaments. But in the sixteenth century they were very frequent, especially on rings. One of the most remarkable specimens of the wonderful mastery over technical difficulties which stamps the goldsmith's work of this time is a "Memento Mori" ring of German work in the Waddesdon Bequest. Its bezel or top is in the form of a book, decorated at each corner with a diamond, emerald, sapphire, and ruby, with snakes and toads between them. In the centre is a death's head. The lid on opening discloses a recumbent figure with skull and hour-glass. On the shoulders of the ring, supporting the bezel, are figures of Adam and Eve representing The Fall and Expulsion from Eden. All the figures are enamelled in high relief, and though merely a fraction of an inch in size, are executed with extraordinary fidelity. A ring described as having belonged to Mary Stuart is in the possession of the Earl of Ilchester. Its bezel, composed of a large ruby cut in the form of a death's head and set with diamond eyes, is supported underneath by cross-bones in enamel. Woeiriot's beautiful collection of designs for rings, of the year 1561, contains a ring of this kind surmounted with a skull and cross-bones; and Gilles Légaré's Recueil of a century later has an engraving of similar pattern (Pl. XL).
English rings of the sixteenth century have a death's head carved in intaglio on carnelian, or sunk in the metal of the ring and sometimes filled with enamel. Around is the motto "Memento Mori," and similar expressions in Latin or in English (Pl. XXXVI, 12). A certain Agnes Hals whose will is dated 1554 bequeathed to her niece "my rynge of gold with the wepinge eie," and to her son "my rynge with the dead manes head."
From the commencement of the seventeenth century Memento Mori rings begin to be worn also as memorials of the departed, and bequests of money were frequently made for their purchase. The decoration of many of the rings of this period is very curious. On some the death's head in its natural shape is beautifully formed in enamel, has small diamond eyes, and is supported on each side by skeletons bent along the hoop of the ring. The bezel of others is of crystal in the shape of a coffin, the lid of which on being removed discloses a skeleton. Widows on the death of their husbands sometimes converted their wedding rings into memorial rings. This was done by engraving outside an elongated skeleton, the bones of which were brought into prominence by a background of black enamel.