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
associations 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 title 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
sexes is clear from another passage in the same play, where a fop is
described, "who makes his fingers like jewellers' cards to set rings
upon."
The stock of rings described in
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