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Amulets: Ancient, Medieval, and Oriental: Roman
A perfectly round onyx, bearing graven in the centre the name or word "Publeni"; this possibly designated the original Roman owner of the stone. In the opinion of a German writer of the eleventh or twelfth century, the amethyst, if worn by a man, attracted to him the love of noble women, and also protected him from the attacks of thieves. This stone was always prized because of its beautiful color, even though it was never so rare or costly as some others. Some authorities assert that the amethyst induces sleep. Perhaps this was one of the means by which the stone cured inebriety, as it enabled its votaries to sleep off the effects of their potations. As testimony of the belief in the efficiency, remedial or talismanic, of precious stones prevalent at the opening of the fifteenth century, may be noted the presence among the manuscript books of Marguerite de Flandres, Duchesse de Bourgogne, of a work listed as follows: "The book of the properties of certain stones." It was carefully enclosed in a crimson velvet covering. Incidentally it is a rather interesting fact that at this early date, 1405, we find in Duchess Margaret's little library two Bibles in French and a separate copy of the Gospels also in that language. This serves to disprove the popular idea that translations of the Bible into the vernacular were in distinct disfavor with Roman Catholics before the era of the Reformation. Of course until the invention and use of the art of printing there could be no wide diffusion of such translations. The jacinth is described by Thomas de Cantimpre as being a stone of a yellow color. "It is very hard and difficult to cleave, or cut; it can, however, be worked with diamond dust. It is very cold, especially when held in the mouth." Among many other virtues, it protects from melancholia and poison, and makes the wearer beloved of God and men. It also acts as a sort of barometer, since it grows dark and dull in bad weather and becomes clear and bright in fine weather. Cardano says that when the weather was fine the stone became obscure and dull, but when a tempest was impending, it assumed the ruddy hue of a burning coal. It also lost its color when in contact with any one suffering from disease, more especially from the plague.
As a result of his study of precious stones, Cardano was induced to affirm that they had life, but he gravely states that he had never noted that they possessed sex (a common belief in his day), although "as nature delights as much in miracle as we do, some may be so constituted that they are almost distinguished by sex."
The beautiful sapphire has always been a great favorite with lovers of precious stones and to it has been attributed a chastening, purifying influence upon the soul. Even Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, wherein precious stones are rarely mentioned, takes occasion to write as follows of the sapphire: "It is the fairest of all precious stones of sky colour, and a great enemy to black choler, frees the mind, mends manners." The poets have sung the praises of the turquoise. In Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, when the "amorous Jessica" made off with her father's jewels, Shylock particularly bewails the disappearance of his turquoise, crying out that he would not have lost it for "a wilderness of monkeys." The poet Donne, also, writes of this stone and draws attention to its sympathetic quality in these words:
As a compassionate turquoise that doth tell, By looking pale, the wearer is not well.
That Queen Elizabeth clung fondly to life is well known, and it is said that she trusted much in the virtues of a talisman which she wore round her neck. This was a piece of gold engraved with certain mystic characters. The statement has also been made that at the bottom of a chair in which she often sat, was the queen of hearts from a pack of cards, having a nail driven through the forehead of the figure. Could this have been a spell of witchcraft used against her hated rival, Mary of Scotland?
The belief that turquoise changes its hue with the changing health of the wearer leads an early seventeenth century author to offer it as a symbol of wifely devotion, saying that "a true wife should be like a turquoise stone, clear in heart in her husband's health, and cloudy in his sickness." Although a more prosaic explanation than that of occult sympathy has been proposed for this asserted change of hue, we need not therefore reject the more poetic fancy.