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Betrothal and Wedding Rings: Accept
The same idea is conveyed in some lines by Woodward (1730) 'to Phœbe, presenting her with a ring : '- Accept, fair maid, this earnest of my love, Be this the type, let this my passion prove; Thus may our joy in endless circles run, Fresh as the light, and restless as the sun; Thus may our lives be one perpetual round, Nor care nor sorrow ever shall be found.
In modern poetry we have many sweet and tender allusions to the wedding-ring. Thus Byron writes :- In that one act may every grace And every blessing have their place, And give to future hours of bliss The charm of life derived from this :
And when e'en love no more supplies, When weary nature sinks to rest, May brighter, steadier light arise And make the parting moment blest !
In a collection of poems printed in Dublin (1801) we find some touching lines to 'S. D., with a ring : '- Emblem of happiness, not bought nor sold, Accept this modest ring of virgin gold.
Love in the small but perfect circle trace, And duty in its soft yet strict embrace.
Plain, precious, pure, as best becomes the wife; Yet firm to bear the frequent rubs of life.
Connubial love disdains a fragile toy, Which rust can tarnish, or a touch destroy, Nor much admires what courts the gen'ral gaze, The dazzling diamond's meretricious blaze, That hides with glare the anguish of a heart, By nature hard, tho' polish'd bright by art.
More to thy taste the ornament that shows Domestic bliss, and, without glaring, glows; Whose gentle pressure serves to keep the mind To all correct, to one discreetly kind; Of simple elegance th' unconscious charm, The only amulet to keep from harm, To guard at once and consecrate the shrine; Take this dear pledge-it makes and keeps thee mine. 6 The most painful ordeal for 'Patient' Grisild (in Chaucer's Clerk's Tale') is the surrender of what she most valued to her imperious lord, the Marquis, the weddingring with which she had espoused him. This, in her sore affliction, she returns to him :- Here again your clothing I restore, And eke your wedding-ring for evermore.
The celebrated Sanscrit drama, which Kalidasa wrote upon the beautiful Sakuntala, turns upon Dushyanta's recognition of his wife by means of a ring which he had given to her.
The tender and affectionate faith derived from the wedding-ring is illustrated in the legend of Guy, Earl of Warwick. The doughty knight, when in a moment of temptation he is about to marry the beautiful Loret, daughter of the Emperor Ernis, is recalled to his duty at the sight of the wedding-ring, and remembers his fair Félice, who is far distant, pining at his absence :- The wedding-ring was forth brought; Guy, then, on fair Félice thought, He had her nigh forgotten clean. 'Alas,' he said, 'Félice, the sheen!' And thought in his heart anon- 'Gainst thee now have I misdone!' Guy said, 'penance I crave, None other maid my love shall have.' We see also the tenderness that a wedding-ring can inspire in the instance of Louis IX. of France, who in his youth was married to Marguerite of Provence, the victim of a cruel jealousy on the part of Blanche of Castile, the King's mother. The young Prince, who loved his wife dearly, constantly wore a ring ornamented with a garland of lilies and daisies, in allusion to his spouse and himself. A magnificent sapphire bore the image of a crucifix, and the inscription 'hors cet annel pourrions nous trouver amour.' In the German ballad of 'The Noble Moringer,' translated by Sir Walter Scott, the hero, after some years' absence on a pilgrimage, returns disguised as a palmer to his castle, on the eve of his wife's nuptials with another knight. The lady -Bade her gallant cup-bearer a golden beaker take, And bear it to the palmer poor to quaff it for her sake. It was the noble Moringer, that dropp'd amid the wine A bridal-ring of burning gold, so costly and so fine. Now listen, gentles, to my song, it tells you but the sooth, 'Twas with that very ring of gold he pledged his bridal troth. Then to the cup-bearer he said, 'Do me one kindly deed, And, should my better days return, full rich shall be thy meed. Bear back the golden cup again to yonder bride so gay, And crave her of her courtesy to pledge the palmer grey. The cup-bearer was courtly bred, nor was the boon denied, The golden cup he took again, and bore it to the bride. 'Lady,' he said, 'your reverend guest sends this and bids me pray That, in thy noble courtesy, thou pledge the palmer grey.' The ring hath caught the lady's eye, she views it close and near, 'Then might you hear her shriek aloud, 'The Moringer is here!' Then might you see her start from seat, while tears in torrents fell, But whether 'twas for joy or woe, the ladies best can tell. The veneration for a wedding-ring is shown in the instance of the great lexicographer, Dr. Samuel Johnson. He writes, under date March 28, 1753: 'I kept this day as the anniversary of my Letty's death, with prayers and tears in the morning. In the evening I prayed for her conditionally, if it was lawful.' Her wedding-ring was preserved by him, as long as he lived, with an affectionate care, in a little round wooden box, and in the inside of which was a slip of paper inscribed: 'Eheu! Eliz. Johnson, nupta Jul. 9, 1736; mortua, eheu ! Mart. 17, 1752.' According to the 'London Press,' Mr. John Lomax, bookseller, of Lichfield, who died lately at the age of eighty-nine, possessed, among many other Johnsonian relics, this wedding-ring of Mrs. Johnson.
The poet Moore, in his 'Diary,' mentions the gift of his mother, of her wedding-ring. He writes: 'Have been preparing my dear mother for my leaving her, now that I see her so much better. She is quite reconciled to my going, and said this morning: "Now, my dear Tom, don't let yourself be again alarmed about me in this manner, nor hurried away from your house and business." She then said she must, before I left her this morning, give me her wedding-ring as her last gift ; and accordingly, sending for the little trinket-box in which she kept it, she herself put the ring on my finger.' The value, even to death, attached to wedding-rings has been frequently shown. In a testamentary document made at Edinburgh Castle by Mary, Queen of Scots, before the birth of her son James, and when under the impression that she would die in childbed, among numerous bequests, she enumerates her rings, of which she had a large number. Among them was a diamond ring, enamelled red, recorded by the Queen herself as that with which 'she was espoused.' On the other side is written 'For the King who gave it me.' This is presumed to be the ring with which Darnley wedded Mary in the privacy of Rizzio's chamber at Stirling, for at the public solemnity of their nuptials in the Chapel Royal of Holyrood three rings of surpassing richness were used. The ring with which James, Duke of York (afterwards King James the Second), married Mary of Modena, had a small ruby set in gold. The Queen showed it to the nuns of Chaillot, with whom she resided chiefly in the days of her sorrowful widowhood, exile, and poverty. Although obliged to part with most of her jewels, she would never give up this ring, which she valued above everything. Even William of Orange, remarkable for his stern and taciturn disposition, felt sensibly the tender feelings which a marriage-ring can nourish after the death of a beloved object. On his decease a ribbon was found tied to his left arm, with a gold ring appended to it, containing some hair of the Queen. The Londesborough Collection contained a royal ring, which is supposed to have been the same given by the Prince of Orange to the Princess Mary. It is of gold, the strap and buckle set with diamonds, and is enamelled black. Engraved in letters in relief is the motto of the Order of the Garter. The following words are engraved within: 'I'll win and wear thee if I can.' 'This posy' (as the late Crofton Croker observed) 'has a double construction; whether addressed to the princess before marriage or after is doubtful, with reference to William's design to contest the crown of England with her father.' Baron Rosen was sent a captive to Siberia, in consequence of political tumults which occurred on the accession of the Emperor Nicholas to the throne of Russia. On his arrival he was searched, and some family trinkets taken from him. He was then required to give up a gold ring which he wore on his finger. He replied: 'It is my wedding-ring, and you can only have it by taking the finger also.' Fortunately the ring was spared.