Rings.
Looking over an old jewel-case, the other day, I found a ring; no treasured heirloom or gage d'amour of by-gone days, but a simple black circlet, whose sole ornament was a silver heart, on which were engraved in rude fashion the letters VA. The sight of it recalled a stormy day during the winter of 1864, when a pale and emaciated Confederate soldier knocked at our door and asked for shelter. Of course, it was cheerfully granted.
On questioning him we learned that he had suffered the rigor of prison life for two years; had just been released, and was en route to join his regiment before Petersburg. Upon leaving, he thanked me for our hospitality, and begged my acceptance of this little ring, the making of which had served to while away the tedium of captivity. I put it carefully aside, and the lapse of time and other more stirring events had almost obliterated the circumstance from my mind, until it was thus revived.
As I gazed upon it, how many memories were revived by it! In it I traced the life of the donor, and in him the vain hopes and aspirations of his comrades and the ruin which befell them. I heard the call to arms; saw the leave-taking and departure for the field; followed him amid the sanguinary contests of battle; till at length defeat, like a black cloud, lowers over his decimated legions, and he finds himself within a prison's walls. There, chafing against captivity, listening eagerly for tidings of release, and sick with hope deferred, I see him beguiling the weary hours in fashioning this little trinket. At last the hour of liberty arrives, and with bounding pulse, to the tune of "Home, sweet home," he turns his back on prison-bars. Once again he is a soldier of the army of Northern Virginia; but gone are the high hopes which animated his breast, and gone are most of the brave comrades who once stood shoulder to shoulder with him; hardship, hunger, and death have done their work, and the end is near; a few more suns, and he and his cause fall to rise no more!
Such is the story that I read in that little hoop of black horn. How many startling events, how many passions of the human heart crowded into a tiny compass!
And this, methought, is not the only ring about which might be woven a tale of joy or sorrow. The "lion-hearted" king, notwithstanding his pilgrim guise, by means of one was betrayed to his relentless Austrian foe; and, centuries later, the gallant Essex entrusted his life to such an advocate. Trifling baubles as they are, which may be hid in the hollow of a baby's hand, they have, from their first introduction to the world, acted a conspicuous part in its history.
The Persians maintain that Guiamschild, fourth king of the first race, introduced the ring. Whether this be true or not, it is certainly of ancient date, since mention is made of it in Genesis as being worn by the Hebrews as a signet. It was also in use among the Egyptians; for we are told that, after the interpretation of the dream, "Pharaoh took off his ring from his hand, and put it on Joseph's hand," as a mark of royal favor. The Sabines used this ornament during the time of Romulus, and perhaps the glittering jewels on the fingers of the women may have enhanced their attractions in the eyes of the bold Roman youths when they so unceremoniously bore them off. But it is not certain at what precise period the Romans adopted rings; for there are no signs of them on their statues prior to those of Numa and Servius Tullius. They were commonly made of iron, and Pliny says that Marius wore his first gold one in his third consulate, the year 650 of Rome. Senators were not allowed to wear them of this metal unless distinguished as ambassadors in foreign service; but in after days golden rings became the badge of knighthood; the people wearing silver, the slaves iron.