Rambles of an Archaeologist Among Old Books and in Old Places Part 8

"Ay, and a poesy: _Annulus hic n.o.bis, quod sic uterque, dabit_."

He at once exclaims--

"... Good!

_This ring will give you what you both desire._ I'll make the whole house chant it, and the parish."

Such rings were known as Gemel or Gimmal rings, the word being derived from the Latin _gemellus_, twins. The two making one, and though separate, indivisible, peculiarly fitted them for wedding rings. Their structure will be best understood from the very fine specimen in the Londesborough collection, Fig. 169. The ring, as closed and worn on the finger, is shown in the uppermost figure (_a_). It is set with sapphire and amethyst, the elaborate and beautiful design enriched by coloured enamels. The lower figure shows the ring parted (_b_), displaying the inscription on the flat side of each section, which is also enriched by engraving and _niello_.

Dryden, in his play of _Don Sebastian_, describes such a ring:--

"A curious artist wrought them With joints so close as not to be perceived; Yet they are both each other's counterpart.

(Her part had _Juan_ inscribed, and his had _Zaida_: You know those names were theirs), and in the midst A heart divided in two halves was placed.

Now if the rivets of those Rings inclosed Fit not each other, I have forged this lie: But if they join, we must for ever part."

A complete ill.u.s.tration of this pa.s.sage of the poet is afforded in Fig.

170, from the same collection. It also ill.u.s.trates Dr. Nares's remark that "Gimmal rings, though originally double, were by a further refinement made triple, or even more complicated; yet the name remained unchanged." So Herrick:--

"Thou sent'st to me a true love knot; but I Return a ring of jimmals, to imply Thy love had one knot, mine a triple tye."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 169.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 170.]

This ring (Fig. 170) is shown (_a_) as it appears when closed. It parts into three hoops, secured on a small pivot, as seen (_b_); the toothed edge of the central hoop forming an ornamental centre to the hoop of the ring, and having two hearts in the middle; a hand is affixed to the side of the upper and lower hoop; the fingers slightly raised, so that when the hoops are brought together, they link in each other, and close over the hearts, securing all firmly.

A mechanical ring of still greater mystic significance is shown, Fig.

171, and is one of the most curious of the Londesborough series. The outside of the hoop is perfectly plain, and is set with a ruby and amethyst. Upon pressing these stones, a spring opens, and discovers the surface covered with magical signs and names of spirits; among them Asmodiel, Nachiel, and Zamiel occur, a similar series occupying the interior of the hoop. Such a ring might be worn without suspicion of its true import, looking simplicity itself, but fraught with unholy meaning.

It was probably constructed for some mystic philosopher, or student of the occult sciences, searching for the philosopher's stone, the elixir of life, and the power given to man to control the unseen world of spirits.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 171.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 172.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 173.]

We close our review of the art of ring-making in the sixteenth century with two very beautiful examples. Fig. 172, from the Londesborough collection, has a ruby in a very tall setting, enriched by enamel. The sides of the hoop are highly decorated with flowers and scroll ornament, also richly enamelled. The Waterton collection gives us Fig. 173, a gold enamelled ring, set with a large turquoise in the centre, and surrounded by six raised garnets. This ring is stated to have subsequently belonged to Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, whose cipher is upon it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 174.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 175.]

We must not, however, end this portion of our history without a reference to the simple, but most important, "plain gold ring" of matrimony. It was at this time almost universally inscribed with a "poesy" of one or two lines of rhyme. Two specimens are here engraved.

Fig. 174 is formed like the badge of the Order of the Garter, with the buckle in front, and the motto of the order outside the hoop; withinside are the words "I'll win and wear you." The ordinary form of ring is shown in Fig. 175, and is inscribed "Let likinge laste." They were invariably inscribed _withinside_ the hoop. Thus Lyly, in his "Euphues,"

1597, addressing the ladies, hopes they will favour his work, "writing their judgments as you do the poesies in your rings, which are always next to the finger, not to be seen of him that holdeth you by the hand, and yet known by you that wear them on your hands." Such jingling rhymes were in great request, and exerted the ingenuity of poetasters and small wits. In 1624 a small collection of them was printed, with the quaint t.i.tle, "Love's Garland; or poesies for rings, handkerchiefs, and gloves, and such pretty tokens that lovers send their loves." They are generally in double, seldom in triple lines of rhyme. The Rev. R. Brooke, of Gateforth House, Selby, has presented a curious collection of such rings to the South Kensington Museum. The six following poesies are selected from this series, as they are good examples of the average inspirations of ring-poets:--

"Seithe G.o.d hath wrought this choice in thee, So frame thyselfe to comfourth mee."

"United hearts death only parts."

"Let us share in joy and care."

"A faithfull wife preserveth life."

"As G.o.d decreed, so we agreed."

"Love and live happily."

The custom of thus inscribing rings continued until the middle of the last century. There is a story told of Dr. John Thomas, Bishop of Lincoln, in 1753, that he inscribed his _fourth_ wife's ring with these words:--

"If I survive I'll make them five."

Horace Walpole says--"My Lady Rochford desired me t'other day to give her a motto for a ruby ring," so that at that time poesies were not confined to wedding rings.

Allusion has already been made in Chapter I. to the custom of using rings as receptacles for relics or poisons. The most famed belonged to Caesar Borgia, son of Pope Alexander VI., both adepts in poisoning; a grasp from the hand wearing this ring ensured a very slow, but certain death: it contained a virulent poison, which found vent through a small spike, pressed out by a spring when the hand was grasped, and which was so slight in its operation as to be scarcely felt, and not usually noticed by the person wounded during the excitement of the hearty friendship so well simulated. When conspiracies against the life of William of Orange were rife under the influence of the court of Spain [_circa_ 1582], the unworthy son of Count Egmont "had himself undertaken to destroy the prince at his own table by means of poison which he kept concealed in a ring. Saint Aldegonde (his friend and counsellor) was to have been taken off in the same way, and a hollow ring filled with poison is said to have been found in Egmont's lodgings."[144-*]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 176.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 177.]

Fig. 176 represents a curious Venetian ring, the bezel formed like a box to contain relics. The face of the ring (in this instance the cover of the box) has a representation of St. Mark seated, holding his gospel, and giving the benediction. The s.p.a.ces between this figure and the oval border are perforated, so that the interior of the box is visible, and the relic enshrined might be seen. Fig. 177 is another ring of the same construction: it is richly engraved and set with two rubies and a pyramidal diamond; the collet securing the latter stone opens with a spring, and exhibits a somewhat large receptacle for such virulent poisons as were concocted by Italian chemists in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

The elaborate character of design adopted at this time for Venetian rings, the highly artistic taste that governed it, as well as the beauty of the stones employed in settings, combined to perfect _bijouterie_ that has never been surpa.s.sed. Fig. 178 is a ring of very peculiar design. It is set with three stones in raised bezels; to their bases are affixed, by a swivel, gold pendent ornaments, each set with a garnet; as the hand moves these pendants fall about the finger, the stones glittering in the movement. This fashion was evidently borrowed from the East, where people delight in pendent ornaments, and even affix them to articles of utility. Fig. 179 is a ring of silver, of East Indian workmanship, discovered in the ruins of one of their most ancient temples; to its centre are affixed bunches of pear-shaped hollow drops of silver, which jingle with a soft low note as the hand moves.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 178.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 179.]

We have already alluded to the old Eastern tale of "The Fish and the Ring," invented some thousands of years since. It has survived to our own day, and is still related and believed by the commonalty to the east of London. In the church at Stepney is a tomb to the memory of Lady Rebecca Berry, who died 1696, in whose coat-of-arms a fish and an annulet appear. She has hence been supposed the heroine of a once popular ballad, the scene of which is laid in Yorkshire; it is ent.i.tled, "The Cruel Knight, or Fortunate Farmer's Daughter," and narrates how one of knightly rank in pa.s.sing a village heard the cry of a woman in travail, and was told by a witch that he was pre-doomed to marry that girl on her arrival at womanhood. The knight in deep disgust draws a ring from his finger, and casting it into a rapid river, vows he will never do so unless she can produce that ring. After many years a fish is brought to the farmer's daughter to dress for dinner, and she finds the ring in its stomach, enabling her to win a t.i.tled husband, who no longer fights against his fate.

The civic arms of Glasgow exhibit a fish holding a ring in its mouth.

This alludes to an incident in the life of St. Kentigern, patron of the See, as related in the "Acta Sanctorum." The queen, who was his penitent, had formed an attachment to a soldier, and had given him a ring she had received from her husband. The king knew his ring, but abided his revenge, until one day discovering the soldier asleep by the banks of the Clyde, he took the ring from his finger and threw it in the stream. He then demanded of his queen a sight of his old love gift, a request she was utterly unable to comply with. In despair, she confessed all to St. Kentigern, vowing a purer life in future. The saint went to the river, caught a salmon, and took from its stomach the missing ring, which restored peace to all parties.[147-*]

The occurrence of the fish and ring in the arms of Glasgow and in the Stepney monument, is "confirmation strong as proofs of holy writ" of the truth of these stories, in the minds of the vulgar, who would regard scepticism in the same light as religious infidelity.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 180.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 181.]

Memorial rings were sometimes made to exhibit a small portrait, and on some occasions to conceal one beneath the stone. Such is the ring, Fig.

180, from the Londesborough collection, which was made for some devoted adherent of King Charles I., when such devotion was dangerous. A table-cut diamond is set within an oval rim, acting as a lid to a small case opening by means of a spring, and revealing a portrait of Charles executed in enamel. The face of the ring, its back, and side portions of the shank, are decorated with engraved scroll-work, filled in with black enamel. "Relics" of this kind are consecrated by much higher a.s.sociations than what the mere crust of time bestows upon them; and even were they not sufficiently old to excite the notice of the antiquary, they are well deserving of attention from their exhibiting "memorials of feelings which must ever command respect and admiration."

Horace Walpole had in the Strawberry Hill collection, "one of the only seven mourning rings given at the burial of Charles I. It has the king's head in miniature behind a death's head; between the letters C. R. the motto, 'Prepared be to follow me.'"

A much more lugubrious memorial is presented from the same collection, Fig. 181. Two figures of skeletons surround the finger and support a small sarcophagus. The ring is of gold enamelled, the skeletons being made still more hideous by a covering of white enamel. The lid of the sarcophagus is also enamelled, with a Maltese cross in red, on a black ground studded with gilt hearts. This lid is made to slide off, and display a very minute skeleton lying within.

These doleful decorations first came into favour and fashion at the court of France, when Diana of Poictiers became the mistress of Henry II. At that time she was a widow, and in mourning; so black and white became fashionable colours: jewels were formed like funeral memorials; golden ornaments shaped like coffins, holding enamelled skeletons, hung from the neck; and watches made to fit in little silver skulls were attached to the waist.

In the Duke of Newcastle's comedy, _The Country Captain_, 1649, a lady of t.i.tle is told that when she resides in the country a great show of finger-rings will not be necessary: "Shew your white hand with but one diamond when you carve, and be not ashamed to wear your own wedding ringe with the old poesy." That many rings were worn by persons of both s.e.xes is clear from another pa.s.sage in the same play, where a fop is described, "who makes his fingers like jewellers' cards to set rings upon."