Chapter THREE (2)

In a medical treatise, written in the fourteenth century,[218] there is what is called the _medicine_ against the cramp; and modernizing the language, it runs thus: “For the Cramp. Take and cause to be gathered on Good Friday, at 5 Parish Churches, 5 of the first pennies that is offered at the cross, of each Church the first penny; then take them all and go before the cross and say 5 paternosters to the worship of the 5 wounds and bear them on the 5 days, and say each day all much in the same way; and then cause to be made a ring thereof without alloy of other metal and write within it Jasper, Batasar, Altrapa” (these are blundered forms of the three kings of Cologne) “and write without Jh’es Nazarenus; and then take it from the goldsmith upon a Friday and say 5 paternosters as thou did before and use it always afterward.”

Lord Berners, the translator of Froissart, when at the court of the Emperor Charles the Fifth as ambassador from Henry the Eighth, in a letter dated 21st June, 1518, writes to Cardinal Wolsey: “If your Grace remember me with some crampe rynges, ye shall do a thing much looked for and I trust to bestow thaym well, with Godd’s grace.”[219]

A letter from Dr. Magnus to Cardinal Wolsey, written in 1526,[220] contains the following: “Pleas it your Grace to wete that M. Wiat of his goodness sent unto me for a present certaine cramp ringges, which I distributed and gave to sondery myne acquaintaunce at Edinburghe, amonges other to Mr. Adame Otterbourne, who, with oone of thayme, releved a mann lying in the falling sekeness, in the sight of myche people; sethenne whiche tyme many requestes have been made unto me for cramp Ringges at my departing there and also sethenne my comyng from thennes. May it pleas your Grace, therefore, to show your gracious pleasure to the said M. Wyat that some Ringges may be kept and sent into Scottelande; which, after my poore oppynyoun, shulde be a good dede, remembering the power and operacion of thaym is knowne and proved in Edinburgh and that they be greatly required for the same cause by grete personnages and others.”

The mode of hallowing rings to cure the cramp is found in what is entitled an “Auncient Ordre for the hallowing of Cramp Rings,” etc. It is amusing to read of the degrading course which king, queen, ladies and gentlemen had to take, each one creeping along a carpet to a cross. The account runs thus: “Firste, the King to come to the Chappell or clossett, with the lords and noblemen wayting upon him, without any sword borne before hime of that day, and ther to tarrie in his travers until the Bishope and the Deane have brought in the Crucifixe out of the vestrie and laid it upon the cushion before the highe alter. And then the usher to lay a carpet for the Kinge to creepe to the crosse upon. And that done, there shall be a forme set upon the carpett before the crucifix and a cushion laid upon it for the Kinge to kneel upon. And the Master of the Jewell house ther to be ready with the crampe rings in a bason of silver and the Kinge to kneel upon the cushion before the forme. And then the Clerke of the Closett be readie with the booke concerninge the halowinge of the crampe rings, and the aumer must kneele on the right hand of the Kinge, holdinge the sayd booke. When that is done, the Kinge shall rise and go to the alter, weare a Gent. Usher shall be redie with a cushion for the Kinge to kneele upon; and then the greatest Lords that shall be ther to take the bason with the rings and beare them after the King to offer. And thus done, the Queene shall come down out of her closett or traverss into the Chappell with ladyes and gentlewomen waiting upon her and creepe to crosse, and then go agayne to her clossett or traverse. And then the ladyes to creepe to the crosse likewise, and the Lords and Noblemen likewise.”

In 1536, when the convocation under Henry the Eighth abolished some of the old superstitious practices, this of creeping to the cross on Good Friday, etc., was ordered to be retained as a laudable and edifying custom.[221]

Even in the dark ages of superstition, the ancient British kings do not seem to have affected to cure the king’s evil or _scrofula_. This gift was left to be claimed by the Stuarts. The Plantagenets were content to cure the cramp.

In our own time we find three young men in England subscribing sixpence each to be moulded into a ring for a young woman afflicted with the cramp.

In Berkshire, England, there is a popular superstition that a ring made from a piece of silver collected at the Communion is a cure for convulsions and fits of every kind.[222] Another curious British superstition, by way of charm, is recorded: that a silver ring will cure fits if it be made of five sixpences, collected from five different bachelors, to be conveyed by the hand of a bachelor to a smith that is a bachelor. None of the persons who give the sixpences are to know for what purpose or to whom they gave them. While, in Devonshire, there is a notion that the king’s evil can be cured by wearing a ring made of three nails or screws which have been used to fasten a coffin that has been dug out of the churchyard.

There is a medical charm in Ireland to cure warts. A wedding-ring is procured and the wart touched or pricked with a gooseberry thorn through the ring.[223]

A wedding-ring rubbed upon that little abscess called a sty, which is frequently seen on the tarsi of the eyes, is said to remove it.[224] In Somersetshire, England, there is a superstition that the ring-finger, stroked along any sore or wound, will soon heal it. All the other fingers are said to be poisonous, especially the forefinger.[225] In Suffolk, England, nine young men of a parish subscribed a crooked sixpence each to be moulded into a ring for a young woman afflicted with fits. The clergy in that country are not unfrequently asked for sacramental silver to make rings of, to cure falling sickness; and it is thought cruel to refuse.[226] There is a singular custom prevailing in some parts of Northamptonshire and probably there are other places where a similar practice exists. If a female is afflicted with fits, nine pieces of silver money and nine three-halfpennies are collected from nine bachelors. The silver money is converted into a ring to be worn by the afflicted person and the three-halfpennies (_i. e._ 13½d.) are paid to the maker of the ring, an inadequate remuneration for his labor but which he good-naturedly accepts. If the afflicted person be a male, the contributions are levied upon females.[227] In Norfolk a ring was made from nine sixpences freely given by persons of the opposite sex and it was considered a charm against epilepsy. “I have seen,” says a correspondent in _Notes and Queries_,[228] “nine sixpences brought to a silversmith, with a request that he would make them into a ring; but 13½d. was not tendered to him for making nor do I think that any three-halfpennies are collected for payment. After the patient had left the shop, the silversmith informed me that such requests were of frequent occurrence and that he supplied the patients with thick silver rings, but never took the trouble to manufacture them from the sixpences.”

Brande, in his _Popular Antiquities_,[229] says: “A boy, diseased, was recommended by some village crone to have recourse to an alleged remedy, which has actually, in the enlightened days of the nineteenth century, been put in force. He was to obtain thirty pennies from thirty different persons, without telling them why or wherefore the sum was asked; after receiving them, to get them exchanged for a half-crown of sacrament money, which was to be fashioned into a ring and worn by the patient. The pennies were obtained, but the half-crown was wanting--the rector of the place, very properly, declined taking any part in such a gross superstition. However, another reverend gentleman was more pliable; and a ring was formed (or professed to be so) from the half-crown and worn by the boy.” A similar instance, which occurred about fourteen years since, has been furnished to the same work by Mr. R. Bond of Gloucester: “The epilepsy had enervated the mental faculties of an individual moving in a respectable sphere in such a degree as to partially incapacitate him from directing his own affairs; and numerous were the recipes, the gratuitous offering of friends, that were ineffectually resorted to by him. At length, however, he was told of what would certainly be an infallible cure, for in no instance had it failed; it was, to personally collect thirty pence, from as many respectable matrons, and to deliver them into the hands of a silversmith, who, in consideration thereof, would supply him with a ring, wrought out of half a crown, which he was to wear on one of his fingers--and the complaint would immediately forsake him. This advice he followed; and for three or four years the ring ornamented (if we may so express it) his fifth or little finger, notwithstanding the frequent relapses he experienced during that time were sufficient to convince a less ardent mind than his that the fits were proof against its influence. Finally, whilst suffering from a last visitation of that distressing malady, he expired, though wearing the ring--thus exemplifying a striking memento of the absurdity of the means he had had recourse to.”[230]

Quite recently, a new means has been contrived for deluding the public in the form of rings, which are to be worn upon the fingers and are said to prevent the occurrence of and cure various diseases. They are called galvanic rings. Although by the contact of the two metals of which they are composed an infinitesimally minute current of electricity (hence, also, of magnetism) is generated, still, from the absurd manner in which the pieces of metal composing the ring are arranged and which displays the most profound ignorance of the laws of electricity and magnetism, no trace of the minute current traverses the finger upon which the ring is worn; so that a wooden ring or none at all would have exactly the same effect as regards the magnetism or galvanism.[231]

Epilepsy was to be cured by wearing a ring in which a portion of an elk’s horn was to be inclosed; while the hoof of an ass, worn in the same way, had the reputation of preventing conjugal debility.[232]

Michaelis, a physician at Leipsic, had a ring made of the tooth of a sea-horse, by which he pretended to cure diseases of every kind.[233] Rings of lead, mixed with quicksilver, were used against headache; and even the chains of criminals and iron used in the construction of gibbets were applied to the removal of complaints.

Rings simply made of gold were supposed to cure St. Anthony’s fire; but, if inscribed with magic words, their power was irresistible.

With regard to rings supposed to possess magical properties, there is one with an inscription in the Runic character, on jasper, being a Dano-Saxon amulet against the plague. The translation is thus given:

“Raise us from dust we pray thee,
From Pestilence, O set us free,
Although the Grave unwilling be.”[234]

On another ring, inscribed with similar characters, and evidently intended for the same purpose, the legend is as follows:

“_Whether in fever or leprosy, let the patient be happy and confident in the hope of recovery._”[235]

Rings against the plague were often inscribed Jesus--Maria--Joseph or I. H. S. _Nazarenus_--_Rex_--_Judæorum_.

A ring was dug up in England, with the figure of St. Barbara upon it. She is the patroness against storms; and it was most likely an intended amulet against them.[236] However, St. Barbara was not solely here depended upon, for it has around it Jesu et Maria.

§ 7. The ordeal of touch, by a person accused of murder, remarkably appears in an English trial.[237] There, the murdered woman, at the touch of the accused, “thrust out the ring or marriage finger three times and pulled it in again and the finger dropped blood upon the grass.” The report goes on to say, that “Sir Nicholas Hyde, seeming to doubt the evidence, asked the witness, ‘Who saw this besides you?’ _Witness._ ‘I cannot swear what others saw; but, my lord, I do believe the whole company saw it; and if it had been thought a doubt, proof would have been made of it, and many would have attested with me.’ The witness observing some admiration in the auditors, spake further: ‘My lord, I am minister of the parish and have long known all the parties, but never had any occasion of displeasure against any of them, nor had to do with them or they with me, but as I was minister, the thing was wonderful to me; but I have no interest in the matter, but as called upon to testify the truth, that I have done. My lord, my brother here present is minister of the next parish adjoining, and, I am assured, saw all done that I have affirmed.’” The clergyman so appealed to confirmed the statement; and the accused were convicted and hanged.

§ 8. Amongst the dooms or punishments which Æthelbirht, King of Kent, established in the days of Augustine, the amount of what was called _bot_ or damages to be paid for every description of injury to the person is fully detailed.[238] The laws of King Alfred comprise, likewise, numerous clauses respecting compensation for wounds inflicted; and the term “_dolzbote_” occurs in c. 23, relating to tearing by a dog. A silver ring was found in Essex, England, inscribed with the Anglo-Saxon word _dolzbot_, the exact meaning of which is compensation made for giving a man a wound either by a stab or blow.[239]

§ 9. We find a romantic story coupled with the founding of Aix-la-Chapelle. Petrarch relates[240] of Charles the Great of France, that this monarch was so fondly attached to a fair lady that, after her death, he carried about her embalmed body in a superb coffin and that he could not indeed forsake it, because, under the tongue, was a gem “enchassée” in a very small ring.

A venerable and learned bishop, who thought a living beauty was preferable to the remains of a departed one, rebuked his sovereign for his irreligious and strange passion and revealed to him the important secret that his love arose from a charm that lay under the woman’s tongue. Whereupon the bishop went to the woman’s corse and drew from her mouth the ring; which the emperor had scarcely looked upon when he abhorred the former object of his attachment and felt such an extraordinary regard for the bishop that he could not dispense with his presence for a single moment, until the good prelate was so troubled with royal favor that he cast the ring into a lake or marsh. The emperor happened to be attracted to the site of the submerged ring; and, in consequence, founded upon it a palace and church, which gave birth to Aix-la-Chapelle.

The Germans have a legend which they connect with what must have been this ring. It runs thus: Charlemagne, although near his dissolution, lingered in ceaseless agony, until the archbishop who attended him caused the lake to be dragged and, silently placing the talisman on the person of the dying monarch, his struggling soul parted quietly away. This talisman is said to be in the possession of Louis Napoleon; but it is described as a small nut, in a gold filagree envelopment, found round the neck of Charlemagne on the opening of his tomb and given by the town of Aix-la-Chapelle to Bonaparte and by him to his favorite Hortense, _ci-devant_ Queen of Holland, at whose death it descended to her son. In the German legend it is said to have been framed by some of the magi in the train of the ambassadors of Aaroun-al-Raschid to the mighty Emperor of the West, at the instance of his spouse Fastrada, with the virtue that her husband should be always fascinated towards the person or thing on which it was.[241]

§ 10. Some of our readers are lovers of operatic music, and have heard _Zampa_. The placing of a ring on the finger of a statue and its consequences must have been gathered from a story by Floriguus. He mentions the case of a young gentleman of Rome, who, on his wedding day, went out walking with his bride and some friend after dinner; towards evening, he got to a tennis-court and while he played he took off his ring and placed it upon the finger of a brass statue of Venus. The game finished, he went to fetch his ring; but Venus had bent her finger upon it and he could not get it off. Whereupon, loth to make his companions tarry, he there left it, intending to fetch it the next day, went then to supper and, so, to bed; but, in the night, the truly brazen Venus had slipped between him and his bride, and thus troubled him for several successive nights. Not knowing how to help himself, he made his moan to one Palumbus, a learned magician, who gave him a letter and bade him, at such a time of the night, in such a crossway, where old Saturn would pass by with his associates, to deliver to him the epistle. The young man, of a bold spirit, accordingly did so; and when Saturn had read it, he called Venus, who was riding before him, and commanded her to deliver the ring, which forthwith she did.

Moore has even made use of this tale. He calls it “The Ring,” and uses upwards of sixty stanzas on it. He seems here to have laid aside, as much as it was possible for him, his usual polish and tried to imitate Monk Lewis. The scene is laid in Christian times; his hero is one Rupert; and the deliverer a Father Austin. Moore says he met with the story in a German work, “Fromman upon Fascination;” while Fromman quotes it from Belaucensis.

It is remarkable how often we find stories, which have originated in heathen times, made a vehicle for Catholic tales. The above has found its way into monkish legend.

In _The Miracles of the Virgin Mary_, compiled in the twelfth century, by a French monk,[242] there is a tale of a young man, who, falling in love with an image of the Virgin, inadvertently placed on one of its fingers a ring, which he had received from his mistress, accompanying the gift with the most tender language of respect and affection. A miracle instantly took place and the ring remained immovable. The young man, greatly alarmed for the consequences of his rashness, consulted his friends, who advised him, by all means, to devote himself entirely to the service of the Madonna. His love for his former mistress prevailed over their remonstrances and he married her; but on the wedding-night, the newly betrothed lady appeared to him and urged her claim, with so many dreadful menaces that the poor man felt himself compelled to abandon his bride and, that very night, to retire privately to a hermitage, where he became a monk for the rest of his life. This story has been translated by Mons. Le Grand, in his entertaining collection of _fabliaux_, where the ring is called a marriage-ring.

Perhaps this last story grew out of the legend of St. Agnes. A priest, who officiated in a church dedicated to St. Agnes, was very desirous of being married. He prayed the Pope’s license, who gave it him, together with an emerald ring; and commanded him to pay his addresses to the image of St. Agnes in his own church. Then the priest did so and the image put forth her finger and he put the ring thereon; whereupon the image drew her finger in again and kept the ring fast--and the priest was contented to remain a bachelor; “and yet, as it is sayd, the rynge is on the fynger of the ymage.”[243]

§ 11. There is a legend of a Sir Richard Baker, who was surnamed _Bloody Baker_, wherein a ring bears its part.[244] This Sir Richard Baker was buried in Cranbrook church, Kent, England, and his gauntlet, gloves, helmet and spurs are suspended over his tomb. The gloves are red. The Baker family had formerly large possessions in Cranbrook; but in the reign of Edward VI. great misfortunes fell on them; by extravagance and dissipation they gradually lost all their lands, until an old house in the village (now used as the poor-house) was all that remained to them. The sole representative of the family remaining at the accession of Queen Mary was Sir Richard Baker. He had spent some years abroad in consequence of a duel; but when Mary reigned he thought he might safely return, as he was a papist; when he came to Cranbrook, he took up his abode in his old house; he brought one foreign servant with him; and only these two lived there. Very soon strange stories began to be whispered respecting unearthly shrieks having been heard frequently to issue at nightfall from his house. Many people of importance were stopped and robbed in the Glastonbury woods and many unfortunate travellers were missed and never heard of more. Richard Baker still continued to live in seclusion, but he gradually repurchased his alienated property, although he was known to have spent all he possessed before he left England. But wickedness was not always to prosper. He formed an apparent attachment to a young lady in the neighborhood, remarkable for always wearing a great many jewels. He often pressed her to come and see his old house, telling her he had many curious things he wished to show her. She had always resisted fixing a day for her visit, but happening to walk within a short distance of his house, she determined to surprise him with a visit; her companion, a lady older than herself, endeavored to dissuade her from doing so, but she would not be turned from her purpose. They knocked at the door, but no one answered them; they, however, discovered it was not locked and determined to enter. At the head of the stairs hung a parrot which, on their passing, cried out:

“Peepoh, pretty lady, be not too bold,
Or your red blood will soon run cold.”

And cold did run the blood of the adventurous damsel when, on opening one of the room doors, she found it filled with the dead bodies of murdered persons, chiefly women. Just then they heard a noise and on looking out of the window saw Bloody Baker and his servant bringing in the murdered body of a lady. Nearly dead with fear, they concealed themselves in a recess under the staircase. As the murderers, with their dead burthen, passed by them, the hand of the unfortunate murdered lady hung in the baluster of the stairs; with an oath, Bloody Baker chopped it off and it fell into the lap of one of the concealed ladies. As soon as the murderers had passed by, the ladies ran away, having the presence of mind to carry with them the dead hand, on one of the fingers of which was a ring. On reaching home, they told their story; and, in confirmation of it, displayed the ring. All the families who had lost relatives mysteriously were then told of what had been found out; and they determined to ask Baker to a large party, apparently in a friendly manner, but to have officers concealed. He came, suspecting nothing; and then the lady told him all she had seen, pretending it was a dream. “Fair lady,” said he, “dreams are nothing; they are but fables.” “They may be fables,” said she, “but is this a fable?” and she produced the hand and ring. Upon this the officers rushed in and took him; and the tradition further says, he was burnt, notwithstanding Queen Mary tried to save him on account of the religion he professed.

§ 12. Dumas has it[245] that Cæsar Borgia wore a ring, composed of two lion’s heads, the stone of which he turned inward when he wished to press the hand of “a friend.” It was then the lion’s teeth became those of a viper charged with poison. (His infamous father, the old poisoner Alexander VI., kept a poisoned key by him, and when his “holiness” wished to rid himself of some one of his familiars, he desired him to open a certain wardrobe, but as the lock of this was difficult to turn, force was required before the bolt yielded, by which a small point in the handle of the key left a slight scratch upon the hand, which proved mortal.)

§ 13. Liceto, as referred to by Maffei, gives an example of a ring forming part of the Barberini collection, which has engraved upon the stone a Cupid with butterflies; and, on the hoop of it, _Mei Amores_, _i. e._ My Loves. This shows a freedom of subject that may have reference to pretty plain flirting or wantonness. A fragment of Ennius, which runs thus: _Others give a ring to be viewed from the lips_, is coupled with a wanton custom (in full vigor in the time of Plautus) for loose characters to take the hoop of the ring with the teeth and, leaving the stone out of the mouth, thus invite young persons to see either the figure or minute characters and who had to approach very close to do it.

§ 14. We have heard of rings with delicate spring-lancets or cutting-hooks, used by thieves to cut pockets before they pick them.

It is said that gamblers have rings with movable parts, which will show a diminutive heart, spade, club or diamond according as a partner desires a particular suit or card to be led.

Thieves in America will often wear a ring with the head of a dog projecting and its ear sharpened and still further extended, so that a blow with it would cut like any sharply pointed instrument. The present Chief of Police in New-York is in the habit of clipping off these sharp ears whenever he has a rogue in custody who possesses such a ring. And characters of the like class wear one bearing a triangular pyramid of metal, with which they can give a terrible blow.

The crime of ring-dropping consists, generally, in a rogue’s stooping down and seeming to pick up a purse containing a ring and a paper, which is made in the form of a receipt from a jeweller, descriptive of the ring and making it a “rich, brilliant, diamond ring;” and in the fellow’s proposing, for a specified payment, to share its value with you.

When Charles VIII. of France crossed the Alps, he descended into Piedmont and the Montferrat, which was governed by two Regents, Princes Charles Jean Aimé and Guillaume Jean. They advanced to meet Charles, each at the head of a numerous and brilliant court and shining with jewels. Charles, aware that, notwithstanding their friendly indications, they had, nevertheless, signed a treaty with his enemy, received them with the greatest courtesy; and as they were profuse in their professions of amity, he suddenly required of them a proof: it was, to lend him the diamonds they then wore. The two regents could but obey a request which possessed all the characteristics of a command. They took off their rings and other trinkets, for which Charles gave them a detailed receipt and, then, pledged them for twenty-four thousand ducats.[246]

§ 15. When the Roman slave was allowed his liberty, he received, with a cap and white vest, a ring. The ring was of iron.[247] We have not heard the origin of this stated, but it appears to us it was gathered from the fable of Prometheus. The slave had been fastened, as it were, to the Caucasus of bondage; and when freed from that, he had, still, as Prometheus had, to wear an iron ring, by way of remembrance. He was not permitted to have one of gold, for that was a badge of citizenship.[248] However, vanity is inherent in bond and free; and slaves began to cover their iron rings with gold, while others presumed to wear the precious metals alone.[249] The iron rings of slaves were alluded to by Statius, who died about thirty years later than Pliny.[250] Apuleius introduces a slave, with an iron ring, bearing a device.

We all remember Moore’s lines, beginning with:

“Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.”

This was rather an Irish way of wearing a ring, on the top of a snow-white wand, instead of upon a lily-white finger. The poet works out and polishes and varnishes these verses from the following story in Warren’s History of Ireland:[251] A young lady, of great beauty, adorned with jewels and a costly dress, undertook a journey alone, from one end of the kingdom to the other, with a wand only in her hand, at the top of which was a ring of exceeding great value; and such an impression had the laws and government of the then monarch, Brian Borholme, made on the minds of all the people that no attempt was made upon her honor, nor was she robbed of her clothes or jewels. Ireland may or not be changed since that time; yet the monarch Brian does not seem to have worked through moral suasion, if we may believe an Irish verse-maker, who certainly uses neither the delicacy of sentiment nor the polish of Moore:

“Oh, brave King Brian! he knew the way
To keep the peace and to make them pay;
For those who were bad, he knocked off their head;
And those who were worse, he kilt them dead.”