February 3
rd
Born: Henry
Cromwell (N. S.), 1627.
Died: Sweyn
(of Denmark), 1014; John of Gaunt, 1399; Charles X of
Sweden, 1660; Sir Thomas Lombe, 1738; Richard Nash
(Bath), 1761; John Beckmann, 1811, Gottingen; Admiral
Strachan, 1828.
Feast Day: St.
Blaine, bishop of Sebaste, 316. St. Auscharius,
archbishop of Hamburg and Bremen, 865. St. Wereburge,
patroness of Chester, 699. St. Margaret of England,
12th century.
ST. WEREBURGE
Wereburge was one of
the earlier and more celebrated of the Anglo-Saxon
saints, and was not only contemporary with the
beginning of Christianity in Mercia, but was closely
mixed up with the first movement for the establishment
of nunneries in England. Her father, Wulfhere, king of
the Mercians, though nominally a Christian, was not a
zealous professor, but, under the influence of his
queen, all his children were earnest and devout
believers. These children were three princes, �
Wulfhad, Rufinus, and Keured,�and one daughter,
Wereburge. The princess displayed an extraordinary
sanctity from her earliest years, and, though her
great beauty drew round her many suitors, she declared
her resolution to live a virgin consecrated to Christ.
Among those who thus sought her in marriage was the
son of the king of the West Saxons; but she incurred
greater danger from a noble named Werbode, a favourite
in her father's court, who was influenced, probably,
by ambition as much as by love. At this time there are
said to have been already five bishops' sees in Mereia,�Chester,
Lichfield, Worcester, Lincoln, and Dorchester; and to
that of Lichfield, which was nearest to the favourite
residence of King Wulfhere, near Stone, in
Staffordshire, St. Chad (Ceadda) had recently been
appointed. It appears that Chad had an oratory in the
solitude of the forest, where he spent much of his
time; and that Wulfhere's two sons Wulfhad and Rufinus,
while following their favourite diversion, discovered
him there. The legend, which is not quite consistent,
represents them as having been pagans down to that
time, and as being converted by Chad's conversation.
Werbode, also, is
said to have been a perverse pagan, and, according to
the legend, his influence lied led Wulfhere to
apostatise from Christianity. The king approved of
Werbode as a husband for Wereburge, but he was stoutly
opposed by the queen and the two young princes; and
the royal favourite, believing that the two latter
were the main obstacles to his success, and having
obtained information of their private visits to St.
Chad, maligned them to their father, and obtained an
order from King Wulfhere for putting them to death.
This barbarous act was no sooner accomplished, than
Werbode was poisoned by an evil spirit, and died
raving mad; while King Wulfhere, overcome with deep
repentance, returned to Christianity, and became
renowned for his piety.
Wereburge now, with
her father's consent, became a nun, and entered the
monastery of Ely, which had been but recently founded,
and which was then governed by her cousin Etheldrida.
As a nun of Ely, Wereburge soon became celebrated for
her piety, and, according to the legend, her sanctity
was made manifest by numerous miracles. Ethelred,
Wulfhere's brother, succeeded him on the throne of the
Mercians in 675; and one of his first cares was to
call his niece Wereburge from Ely, and entrust to her
care the establishment of nunneries in Mercia. Within
a very short time, assisted by his munificence, she
founded religious houses for nuns at Trentham and
Hanbury (near Tutbury), in Staffordshire, and at Wedon
in Northampton-shire, of all which she was superior at
the same time. She died at Trentham, on the 3rd of
February, 699, having declared her will that her body
should be buried at Hanbury; when the people of
Trentham attempted to detain it by force, those of
Hanbury were aided by a miracle in obtaining
possession of it, and carried it for interment to
their church. Years after-wards, when the Danes
ravaged this part of theisland, the body of St
Wereburge was carried for safety from Hanbury to
Chester, and deposited in the abbey church there (now
the cathedral), of which she henceforth became the
patroness.
Such is the history
of St Wereburge as we gather it partly from tolerably
authentic history, but more largely from the legend.
The latter was set forth in English verse early in the
sixteenth century, by a monk of Chester named Henry
Bradshaw, whose book was printed in a black-letter
volume, now very rare, by Pynson, in 1521. Bradshaw's
verses are too chill to be worth quotation as
specimens of old. English poetry, and the posthumous
miracles he relates are certainly not worth repeating.
There is one, however, which gives us such a curious
picture of the proceedings of the citizens when a
mediaeval town was on fire, and bears also such
curious points of resemblance to the description of
the confusion in London at the great fire of 1666,
that, as shewing how little progress had been made
during the period between the time of Henry Bradshaw
and the reign of Charles II, we are tempted to give
some verses from it. Some houses had accidentally
taken fire while the inhabitants were at their
devotions in the churches:
This fearefull
fire encreased more and more,
Piteously wastyng hors, chambre, and hall.
The citizens were redy their cite to succour,
Shewed all their diligence and labour continuall;
Some cried for water, and some for hookes dyd
call;
Some used other engins by crane and policy;
Some pulled downe howses afore the fire truly.
'Other that were
impotent mekely gan praye
Our blessed Lorde on them to have pit'e
Women and children cried, "Out and waile away!"
Beholdyng the daunger and perill of the cit'e.
Prestes made hast divine service to suppl'e
[complete]
Redy for to succour their neyghbours in distree
(As charit'e required), and helpe their hevyues.
'the fire
contyuned without any cessynge,
fervently flaiuyng ever contynuall,
From place to place mervaylously rennyng
[running],
As it were tynder consumyng toure and wall.
The citizens sadly laboured vaync all;
By the policie of man was founde no remedy
To cesse [stop] the fire so fervent and myghty.
Many riall
[royal] places fell adowne that day,
Riche marchauntes hoses brought to distraction;
Churches and chapels went to great decay.
That tyme was burnt the more [greater]
part of the towne;
And to this present day is a famous opinion
Howe a mighty churche, a mynstre of saynt Michaell,
That season was bruit and to ruyne fell.'
The citizens,
finding themselves powerless to put out the fire,
addressed their prayers to St Wereburge, and the monks
then brought out her shrine, and carried it in
procession through the flaming streets. This, it was
believed, stopped the progress of the conflagration.
It may be well to
state that this curious poem has been reprinted by the
Chetham Society.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Edward the Third's
fourth son, John, born at Ghent, or, as it was then
spelt, Gaunt, during his father's expedition to
Flanders, in February 1340, and called from that
circumstance, John of Gaunt, has obtained a greater
name amongst celebrated princes than his own merits
would perhaps justify, probably in some measure from
his inheriting the popularity of his elder and greater
brother, the
Black Prince.
John, when two years old,
was created Earl of Richmond. After the death of the
great warrior, Henry Duke of Lancaster, in 1360, John
of Gaunt, who had married his daughter the princess
Blanche, was raised by his father, King Edward, to
that dukedom. In the adventurous expedition which the
Black Prince made into Spain in 1367, his brother
John accompanied him. Two years later, accompanying
the Black Prince on a march which he made through
France to the English possessions in the south, John
took the command of the army, on his brother being
obliged by the state of his health to return to
England. Immediately afterwards John of Gaunt married
the Spanish princess Constance, eldest daughter of Don
Pedro, whom he had first seen at Bordeaux in 1367;
and, as her father had been murdered by his rival, the
usurper Don Erique, the Duke of Lancaster assumed in
his wife's right the title of King of Castile and
Leon. In the continuous wars with France which
followed, John of Gaunt was a brave but not a
successful commander, and they were put an end to by
the truce of 1374.
The Black Prince died
on the 8th of June 1376, two years after this peace.
Since his return to England, he had espoused the
popular cause against his father's government, and
thus became a greater favourite than ever with the
nation. His brother of Lancaster, on the contrary, was
unpopular, and supported the abuses of the court.
After his death, John of Gaunt became all powerful in
the parliament, and high in favour with his father the
king; but in his hostility to the opposition which had
been supported by the Black Prince, he quarrelled
violently with the Church, and especially with William
of Wickham, Bishop of Winchester, whom he persecuted
with inveterate hatred.
It is believed that the Duke's
hostility to the bishops was the main cause of the
support he gave to
John Wycliffe, the great Church
reformer, by which he certainly did good service to
the English Reformation in its first beginning, and
gained popularity among the Lollards. But even here he
proceeded with the intemperance which especially
marked his character. The prelates, provoked by the
encouragement thus openly given to innovators in
Church doctrines and government, cited Wycliffe to
appear in St Paul's Church, before Courtenay, Bishop
of London, to answer for his opinions. He came there
on the 19th of February 1377, supported by the Duke of
Lancaster and the
Lord Henry Percy, Marshal of
England, in person, with a formidable array of
knights.
The bishop was highly
offended by this bold advocacy of men who came there
to be tried as heretics, and high words passed between
him and the Duke, who is said to have threatened 'to
pull down the pride of him, and of all the bishops of
England,' and to have talked of dragging him out of
the church by the hair of his head.
A great crowd of
citizens, who were present, spewed an inclination to
take part with the bishop, and, further irritated by
some proceedings in parliament which threatened their
municipal rights, they rose tumultuously next morning,
and rushing first to the house of the Marshal, broke
into it, and committed various acts of violence. Not,
however, finding Lord Henry Percy there, they
hastened
to the Savoy, the palace of the Duke of Lancaster,
where 'a priest chancing to meete them, asked of some,
what that business meant. Whereunto he was answered,
that they went to take the Duke and the Lord Percy,
that they might be compelled to deliver to them Sir
Peter de la More, whome they unjustly kept in
prison.
The priest sayde that Peter de la More was a traytour
to the king, and was worthie to be hanged. With which
words they all cryed,
"This is Percy! this is the traytour of
England! his speech bewrayeth him, though
hee bee disguised in apparel." Then ranne they all
upon him, striving who should give him his deaths
wound, and after they had wounded him, they caryed him
to prison, where he dyed.'
The Bishop of London
now arrived and appeased the rioters, but not till the
great courtiers against whom their wrath had been
excited were in great terror. The Duke and the Lord
Henry Percy happened to be dining with a Flemish
merchant named John of Ypres;
'but the Londoners knew
it not, for they thought that he and the duke had beene at the Savoy, and
therefore with all hast posted
thither. But one of the dukes knights seeing these
things, in great haste came to the place where the
duke was, and, after that he had knocked and could not
get in, hee sayd to Haverland the porter, "If thou
love my lord and thy life, open the gate I" with which
wordes hee got entrey, and with great feare hee telles
the duke that without the gate were infinite numbers
of armed men, and, unlesse hee tooke great heede, that
day should bee his last. With which words, when the
duke heard them, he leapt so hastily from his oysters,
that he hurt both his legges against the fourme. Wine
was offered to his oysters, but hee would not drinke
for haste. Hee fledde with his fellow Syr Henry Percy,
no maniac following them, and, entring the Thamis,
never stinted rowing untill they carne to a house
neere the manor of Kenington (besides Lambeth), where
at that tyme the princesse was, with the young prince,
before whom he made his complaint.'
The Londoners
were summoned before the King, who effected a
reconciliation between them and the Duke; but, old
Stow adds in his quaint manner,
'in the meane space
some men ceased not to make rymes in reproeh of the
duke, and to fasten them in divers places of the city,
whereby the greater fury of the people might be
kindled, the dukes flame blotted, and his name had in
destestation.'
This was one of the last
public audiences given by King Edward III, who died on
the 21st of June following. At the beginning of the
following reign, the hostile feeling between the
Londoners and John of Gaunt continued, but his power
had greatly declined, and for a while he took little
part in public business.
In
Wat Tyler's rebellion,
when the insurgents had obtained possession of London,
they proclaimed the Duke of Lancaster as one of the
arch-traitors, and burnt his palace of the Savoy to
the ground. John of Gaunt was at this time
in Scotland, employed in a diplomatic mission. He had
not long returned from a hostile expedition to France,
the ill success of which had increased his
unpopularity. From this time forward the Duke was
involved in frequent quarrels with his nephew the
young king, and they became more and more difficult to
reconcile, until at last Richard was glad to get rid
of him by allowing him to carry an army of ten
thousand men to Spain in order to recover by force the
kingdom of Castile. He landed at Corunna in the month
of July 1385, and marched through Galicia into
Portugal, where the King of Portugal not only joined
him with an army, but married Philippa, John of
Gaunt's eldest daughter by his first wife. He was at
first successful against the Spaniards, but eventually
having lost the greater part of his troops by famine
and disease, he was obliged to make his retreat into
Guienne, and was glad to conclude a treaty with the de
facto King of Castile, by which John of Gaunt
abandoned all his claim to the throne of Castile and
Leon, in consideration of a large sum of money, and of
the marriage of Henry Prince of the Asturias, the heir
of Castile, with his daughter by his second wife.
On the return of the Duke of
Lancaster from the Continent, he appears to have
become suddenly popular, perhaps on account of his
hostility to his nephew's favourites. He had been
always accused of aiming at the English crown, and of
a design to supplant the young King Richard; and it is
said that he incurred Richard's final displeasure, by
pressing the king too urgently to acknowledge his son
Henry of Bolingbroke, heir to the throne. From this
time John of Gaunt lived retired from court until his
death, which occurred at Ely House, in Holborn, on the
3rd of February 1399. It is hardly necessary to add,
that within a few weeks afterwards his son became King
of England, as Henry IV.
BEAU NASH
This extraordinary
man, to whose amenities the city of Bath owes so
much, was born at Swan-sea, in 1673; educated at
Carmarthen School, and thence sent to Jesus College,
Oxford, where his college life was mostly marked by
his assiduity in intrigue. He next purchased for
himself a pair of colours in the army, which, however,
he soon quitted. He then entered himself at the
Temple, to stucly for the law. but led so gay a town
life without any visible means of supporting it, that
his companions suspected him of being a highwayman.
Disgusted at these
suspicions, Nash retired to Bath, then one of the
poorest and meanest cities in England. It had its
public amusements for the company who flocked there to
drink the Bath waters, consisting chiefly of a band of
musicians, who played under some fine old trees,
called the Grove. In 1701, Nash was appointed, 'master of the ceremonies,' and
immediately removed the
music to the Pump-room. His laws were so strictly
enforced that he was styled 'King of Bath:' no rank
would protect the offender, nor dignity of station
condone a breach of the laws. Nash desired the Duchess
of Queensberry, who appeared at a dress ball in an
apron of pointlace, said to be worth 500 guineas, to
take it off, which she did, at the same time desiring
his acceptance of it; and when the Princess Amelia
requested to have one dance more after 11 o'clock,
Nash replied that the laws of Bath, like those of Lycurgus,
were unalterable.
Gaming ran high at
Bath, and frequently led to disputes and resort to the
sword, then generally worn by well-dressed men. Swords
were, therefore, prohibited by Nash in the public
rooms; still, they were worn in the streets, when
Nash, in consequence of a duel fought by torchlight,
by two notorious gamesters, made the law absolute,
'That no swords should, on any account, be worn in
Bath.' He also wrote certain 'Rules, by general
consent determined,' to be observed at all public
places of amusement: these he concluded as follows
N.B.--Several men of
no character, old women, and young ones of
questionable reputation, are great authors of lies in
this place, being of the sect of levellers.'
Nash was a sleeping
partner in one of the principal gambling-houses in
Bath; consequently, his life was chequered with
vicissitudes. In 1732, he possessed six fine black
coach-horses, which were so well matched and paced so
well in full trot, that it appeared as if one horse
drew the carriage. He kept a coachman, postilion, two
footmen in livery, a gentleman out of livery, and a
running footman. Many instances of Nash's benevolence
are recorded. He gave away his money freely. A broken
gamester, observing him one day win two hundred
guineas at picquet, and put the money into his pocket
with indifference, exclaimed, 'How happy that money
would make me!' Nash, overhearing this, placed the
money in his hand, saying, 'Go, then, and be happy!'
Of Nash's gambling
life some expiatory anecdotes are related. The Earl of
T� when a young man, being fond of play, was desirous
to have the King of Bath' for his opponent, for whom,
however, he was no match. Nash, after winning from him
several trifling stakes, resolved to attempt his cure.
Accordingly, he engaged his lordship one evening to a
serious amount; and having first won all his ready
money then the title-deeds of his estates, and finally
the very watch in his pocket and the rings on his
fingers, Nash read him a lecture on the flagrant
impropriety of attempting to make money by gambling,
when poverty could only be pleaded in justification of
such conduct. He then returned him all his winnings,
at the same time exacting from him a promise that he
would never play again. Not less generously did Nash
behave to an Oxford student, who had come to spend the
long vacation at Bath. This greenhorn, who also
affected to be a gamester, was lucky enough to win a
large sum of money from Nash, and after the game was
ended was invited by him to supper. 'Perhaps,' said
Nash, 'you think I have asked you for the purpose of
securing my revenge; but I can assure you that my sole
motive in requesting your company is to set you on
your guard, and to entreat you to be warned by my
experience, and to shun play as you would the devil.
This is strange advice for one like me to give; but I
feel for your youth and inexperience, and am convinced
that if you do not stop where you now are, you will
infallibly be ruined.' Nash was right. A few nights
afterwards, having lost his entire fortune at the
gaming table, the young man blew his brains out!
The Corporation of
Bath so highly respected Nash, that the Chamber voted
a marble statue of him, which was erected in the
Pump-room, between the busts of Newton and Pope; this
gave rise to a stinging epigram by Lord Chesterfield,
concluding with these lines:
'The statue
placed these busts between
Gives satire all its strength;
Wisdom and Wit are little seen,
But Folly at full length.'
Except a few months
annually passed in super-intending the amusements at
Tunbridge, Nash lived at Bath until his health was
worn out; and after one of Nature's serious warnings,
he expired at his house in St. John's-place, on the 3
rd
of February, 1761, aged eighty-seven years. He was
buried in the Abbey Church with great ceremony: a
solemn hymn was sung by the charity-school children,
three clergymen preceded the coffin, the pall was
supported by aldermen, and the Masters of the Assembly
Rooms followed as chief mourners; while the streets
were filled and the housetops covered with spectators,
anxious to witness the respect paid to the venerable
founder of the prosperity of the city of Bath.
SURRENDER OF HUME
CASTLE
Under the date
February 3, 1651, we have, in Whitlocke's Memoriais,
intelligence of the siege of Hume Castle in
Berwickshire, by Colonel Fenwick, an officer of
Cromwell's army.
This seat of a once powerful family
occupied a commanding position at the western
extremity of the great plain of the Merse. On its
being summoned by Colonel Fenwick to surrender to
Cromwell (who had recently beaten the Scots at Dunbar
and overrun nearly the whole of Scotland south of the
Forth), the governor answered, 'That he knew not
Cromwell, and for his castle it was built upon a
rock.' Four days later, there was intelligence in
London, that Colonel Fenwick was playing with his guns
upon Hume Castle, and that the governor sent this
letter to him:
I William of
the Wastle
Am now in say castle,
And awe the dogs in the town
Shand garre me gang down.'
So Whitlocke prints
or misprints the governor's brave answer, which in
reality was only a somewhat confused version of a
rhyme used by boys in one of their games. This sort,
as practised to the present day in Scotland, is as
follows. One of the party takes his station upon a
large stone, heap of sand, rubbish, or any other
materials, with a handkerchief in his hand, and cries
out, as a defiance to his companions:
I Willie
Wastle
Stand in my castle,
And a' the dogs in the town
I'll no ding Willie Wastle down.
They assail him,
trying to drive him from his position, while he
endeavours to repel them with the handkerchief. Any
one who succeeds in driving him off, takes the vacated
position, and seeks to maintain it in the same manner;
and so on. The quaint act of the governor in adopting
this defiance against the Cromwellian officer, has
been the means of certifying to us that the antiquity
of the boy's game is not less than two centuries.
The governor�whose
name we learn from another source to have been
Thomas
Cockburn�appears to have made a resistance in
conformity with his answer to the English commander;
and it is not till three days after, that Whitlocke
records the great execution which the mortar pieces
had done against Hume Castle. The shot had made great
breaches and spoilt many rich goods, and Fenwick was
preparing for a storm, when the governor beat a
parley. 'Fenwick refused to treat unless they would
presently surrender upon quarter for life; which they
did; and Fenwick appointed some officers to look to
the equal sharing of the goods among his soldiers;
only the governor's lady had liberty to carry out some
of her goods and bedding."''
The rhyme of Willie
Wastle was used later in the century with reference to
another public event. Mr. William Veitch, a zealous
Presbyterian clergyman who had been persecuted under
the Stuarts, but after the Revolution became a
prominent minister under the new establishment, is
stated to have preached one day at Linton in
Roxburghshire, when it pleased him to make allusion to
the late episcopal frame of church government. 'Our
bishops,' he said, 'had for a long time thought
themselves very secure, like
Willie,
Willie Wastle,
I am in my castle;
A' the dogs in the town
Dare not ding me down.
Yea, but there is a
doggie in heaven that has dung them all down.'
ST. BLAIZE'S DAY
St. Blasius is
generally represented as bishop of Sebaste in Armenia,
and as having suffered martyrdom in the persecution of
Licinius in 316. The fact of iron combs having been
used in tearing the flesh of the martyr appears the
sole reason for his having been adopted by the
woolcombers as their patron saint. The large
flourishing communities engaged in this business in
Bradford and other English towns, are accustomed to
hold a septennial jubilee on the 3
rd of February, in honour of Jason of the
Golden Fleece andSt. Maize;
and, not many years ago, this fete was conducted with
considerable state and ceremony. First went the
masters on horseback, each bearing a white sliver;
then the masters' sons on horseback; then their colours; after which came the
apprentices, on
horseback, in their uniforms. Persons representing the
king and queen, the royal family, and their guards and
attendants, followed. Jason, with his golden fleece
and proper attendants, next appeared. Then came Bishop
BLAIZE in full canonicals, followed by shepherds and
shepherdesses, woolcombers, dyers, and other
appropriate figures, some wearing wool wigs. At the
celebration in 1825, before the procession started, it
was ad-dressed by Richard Fawcett, Esq., in the
following lines suitable to the occasion:
'Hail to the
day, whose kind auspicious rays
Deigned first to smile on famous Bishop Blaize
To the great author of our combing trade,
This day's devoted, and clue honour's paid;
To him whose fame through Britain's isle
resounds,
To him whose goodness to the poor abounds;
Long shall his name in British annals shine,
And grateful ages offer at his shrine!
By this our trade are thousands daily fed,
By it supplied with means to earn their broad.
In various forms our trade its work imparts,
In different methods and by different arts;
Preserves from starving, indigents distressed,
As combers, spinners, weavers, and the rest.
We boast no gems, or costly garments vain,
Borrowed from India, or the coast of Spain;
Our native soil with wool our trade supplies,
While foreign countries envy us the prize.
No foreign broil our common good annoys,
Our country's product all our art employs;
Our fleecy flocks abound in every vale,
Our bleating lambs proclaim the joyful tale.
So let not Spain with us attempt to vie,
Nor India's wealth pretend to soar so high;
Nor Jason pride him in his Colchian spoil,
By hardships gained and enterprising toil,
Since Britons all with ease attain the prize,
And every hill resounds with golden cries.
To celebrate our founder's great renown,
Our shepherd and our shepherdess we crown;
For England's commerce, and for George's sway,
Each loyal subject give a loud HUZZA. HUZZA!'
A significant remark
is dropped by the local historian of these fine
doings, that they were most apt to be entered upon
when trade was flourishing.
There was also a
general popular observance of St. Blaize's day in
England. Apparently for no better reason than the
sound of the venerated prelate's name, it was
customary to light fires on this day, or evening, on
hill tops or other conspicuous places. Perhaps the
Scotch custom of the Candlemass Bleese, already
adverted to, was only St. Blaize's fire transferred
back to his eve. So determinedly anxious were the
country people for the celebration by a blaze, that
they would sacrifice articles of some importance to
make one. Country women went about during the day in
an idle merry humour, making good cheer; and if they
found a neighbour spinning, they thought themselves
justified in making a conflagration of the distaff.
In the simple days
when England was Catholic, it was believed that, by a
charm in name of St. Maize, a thorn could be extracted
from the flesh, or a bone from the throat. It was only
necessary to hold the patient, and say, 'Blaize, the
martyr and servant of Jesus Christ, commands thee [ in
the case of a bone in the throat] to pass up or down;
Lin the case of a thorn] to come forth; and the
command was instantly effectual.
THE WEDDING RING
Mystic significance
has, from the earliest period, been associated with
the ring. In its circular continuity it was accepted
as a type of eternity, and hence of the stability of
affection. The Greek and Roman rings are often
inscribed with sentences typical of this feeling. May
you live long is engraved on one published by Caylus;
I bring good fortune to the wearer, was another usual
inscription; sometimes a stone was inserted in the
ring, upon which was engraved an intaglio,
representing a hand pulling the lobe of an car, with
the one word Remember above it. Others have the wish
Live happy, or I give this love pledge.
They were lavishly
displayed by the early nations; but, except as an
indication of gentility or wealth, they appear to have
been little valued until Greek sentimentalism gave
them a deeper significance. As a gift of love, or a
sign of betrothal, they came into ancient use. The
Jews make the ring a most important feature of the
betrothal in the marriage ceremony. They were
sometimes of large size, and much elaboration of
workmanship, as in the specimen here engraved,
selected from the curious collection of rings formed
by the late Lord Londesborough. It is beautifully
wrought of gold filigree, and richly enamelled. Upon
it are the words joy be with you, in Hebrew
characters.
According to the
Jewish law, it is necessary that this ring be of a
certain value; it is therefore examined and certified
by the officiating Rabbi and chief officers of the
synagogue, when it is received from the bridegroom;
whose absolute property it must be, and not obtained
on credit or by gift. When this is properly certified,
the ring is returned to him, and he places it on the
bride's finger, calling attention to the fact that she
is, by means of this ring, consecrated to him; and so
completely binding is this action that, should the
marriage not be further consecrated, no other could be
contracted by either party without a legal divorce.
In the middle ages,
solemn betrothal by means of the ring often preceded
matrimony, and as sometimes adopted between lovers who
were about to separate for long periods.
Chaucer, in
his Troilus and Cresseide, describes the heroine as
giving her lover a ring, upon which a love-motto was
engraved, and receiving one from him in return.
Shakespeare has more than one allusion to the custom,
which is absolutely enacted in his Two Gentlemen of
Verona, when Julia gives Protons a ring, saying, 'Keep
you this remembrance for thy Julia's sake;' and he
replies, 'Why, then, we'll make exchange; here, take
you this.' The invention of the gimmal or linked ring
gave still greater force and significance to the
custom. Made with a double and sometimes a triple
link, which turned upon a pivot, it could shut up into
one solid ring. This will be better understood by our
second cut, which represents one of these rings. It is
hewn first as it appears when closed; to the sides of
each outer hoop a small hand is attached, each fitting
into the other, as the hoops are brought together, and
enclosing a heart affixed to the central notched ring.
It was customary to break these rings asunder at the
betrothal, which was ratified in a solemn manner over
the Holy Bible, and sometimes in the presence of a
witness, when the man and the woman broke away the
upper and lower rings from the central one, which the
witness retained; when the marriage contract was
fulfilled at the altar, the three portions of the ring
were again united, and the ring used in the ceremony.
The fourth finger of
the left hand has from long usage been consecrated to
the wedding ring, from an ancient belief that from
this finger a nerve went direct to the heart. So
completely was this fanciful piece of physiology
confided in by the Greeks and Romans, that their
physicians term this the medical or healing finger,
and used it to stir their mixtures, from a notion that
nothing noxious could communicate with it, without its
giving immediate warning by a palpitation of the
heart. This superstition is retained in full force in
some country places in England, particularly in
Somersetshire, where all the fingers of the hand are
thought to be injurious except the ring-finger, which
is thought to have the power of curing any sore or
wound which is stroked by it. That a sanatory power is
imparted to the wedding ring, is believed by the
peasantry, both in
England and Ireland, who fancy any growth like a wart,
on the skin, may be removed by rubbing a wedding ring
upon them.
The clasped hands adopted on
the gimmal rings became a frequent emblem on the solid
wedding ring. The Londesborough collection furnishes
us with a peculiarly curious example of the Shakspearian era; throwing a side
light upon a passage
in the great dramatist's Twelfth Night, where Malvolio,
breaking open the letter purporting to be in his
mistress's handwriting, says: By your leave, wax.
Soft!�and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she
uses to seal.' The bust of Lucretia, with her hand
directing the fatal dagger, appears on the face of
this ring; at the back are two clasped hands; the
whole being enriched by niello engraving.
This fashion of ring is still
in use in that curious local community of fishermen
inhabiting the Claddagh at Galway, on the Irish
western coast. They number with their families between
five and six thousand, and are particularly exclusive
in their tastes and habits, rarely intermarrying with
other than their own people. The wedding ring is an
heir-loom in the family; it is regularly transferred
from the mother to the daughter who is first married,
and so passes to her descendants. Many of them still
worn there are very old, and show traces of still
older design, like that in our cut, whose prototype
may have been made in the Elizabethan era. The hands
in this instance support a crowned heart, typical of
the married state.
Within the hoop of the ring,
it was customary, from the middle of the sixteenth to
the close of the seventeenth century, to inscribe a
motto or 'posy,' consisting frequently of a very
simple sentiment in commonplace rhyme. The following
are specimens:
'Our contract
Was Heaven's act.'
In thee, my choice,
I do rejoyce.'
God above
Encrease our love.'
The engraving exhibits one of
these 'posy-rings,' of the simplest form, such as
would be in ordinary use in the early part of the
seventeenth century. The posy was always on the fiat
inner side of the ring. Shakspeare has alluded more
than once in contemptuous terms to these rhyming
effusions. In the Merchant of Venice, Act v., sc. 1,
when Portia asks Gratiano the reason of his quarrel
with Nerissa, he answers:
'About a hoop of gold, a
paltry ring
That she did give me; whose posy was,
For all the world, like Cutler's poetry
Upon a knife, Love me, and leave me not.'
Hamlet asks at the conclusion
of the triple lines of rhyme uttered by the players at
the commencement of their tragedy�'Is this a prologue,
or the posy of a ring? 'Yet the composition of such
posies exercised the wits of superior men
occasionally, and they were sometimes terse and
epigrammatic. In 1624, a small collection of them was
printed with the quaint title, Love's Garland, or
posies for Rings, Handkerchiefs, and Gloves; and such
pretty tokens, that lovers send their loves. It is
curious that the second of the posies given above, and
which was copied from a ring of the time of the
publication of this volume, is given with a very
slight variation in the series. The custom of placing
the heart on the ring is also alluded to in the
following posy:
'My heart and I, Until
I dye.'
The joined hands is also
notified in another:
'Not two, but one
Till life be gone.'
One of the most complete
jingles is the following:
'Desire,
Like fire,
Doth still aspire.'
Of a more meritorious kind,
are the following specimens from a manuscript of the
same period:
'Constancy and heaven
are round,
And in this the Emblem's found.'
'Weare me out, Love
shall not waste,
Love beyond Tyme still is plac'd.'
Weare this text, and
when you looke
Uppon your finger, sweare by th' booke.'
Lilly, in his address to the
ladies, prefixed to the second part of his Euphues,
1597, hopes they will be favourable to his work,
'writing their judgments as you do the Posies in your
rings, which are always next to the finger, not to be
scene of him that holdeth you by the hand, and yet
knowne by you that weare them on your hands.'
The Rev Giles Moore notes in
his Journal, 1673-4 (Sussex Archaeological
Collections, vol. i.), I bought for Ann Brett a gold
ring, this being the posy:
"When this you see,
remember me."'
One of the most whimsical of
these inscriptions was used by Dr John Thomas, Bishop
of Lincoln in 1753, who had been married three times;
on his fourth marriage he placed as a motto on the
wedding ring:
If I survive,
I'll make them five!'
My Lady Rochford,' writes
Horace Walpole, 'desired me
t'other day to give her a
motto for a ruby ring,' proving the late continuance
of the custom. The most modern form of sentimental or
significant ring was ingeniously constructed by French
jewellers in the early part of the present century,
and afterwards adopted by English ones, in which a
motto was formed by the arrangement of stones around
the hoop; the initial letter of the name of each
stone forming amatory words, when combined; as in the
following examples:
R
uby
|
L
apis Lazuli
|
E
merald
|
0
pal
|
G
arnet
|
V
erde antique
|
A.
methys
|
E
merald
|
R
uby
|
M
alachite
|
D
iamond
|
E
merald
|
AN ODD FUNERAL IN THE TIME
OF THE COMMONWEALTH
Dugdale has preserved for us
an account of the funeral of the wife of a gentleman,
of good means, but cynical temper, during the
Commonwealth. The gentleman was Mr. Fisher Dilke,
Registrar of Shustoke; his wife was sister of Sir
Peter Wentworth, one of the regicide judges. 'She was
a frequenter of conventicles; and dying before her
husband, he first stripped his barn-wall to make her a
coffin; then bar-gained with the clerk for a groat to
make a grave in the churchyard, to save eightpence by
one in the church. This done, he speaketh about eight
of his neighbours to meet at his house, for bearers;
for whom he provided three twopenny cakes and a bottle
of claret [this treat would cost 2s. at the utmost].
And some being come, he read a chapter in Job to them
till all were then ready ; when, having distributed
the cake and wine among them, they took up the corpse,
he following them to the grave. Then, putting himself
in the parson's place, (none being there,) the corpse
being laid in the grave, and a spade of mould cast
thereon, he said, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust;"
adding, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in
peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation" and so
returned home.'
February 4th
|