It appears to have been an ancient usage in some parts of the Christian world to use two signet rings in connection with the baptismal ceremonies. One of these was employed to seal up the font, or else the baptistry, while the other was used to affix a seal upon the profession of faith made by the neophyte, this profession being later entered on a public register. Some of the ecclesiastical writers saw the origin of the first-named ring in the text (Cant. iv, 12):

A recognition that at the beginning of the sixth century A.D. bishops were in possession of signet rings is offered by a circular letter addressed by Clovis I, in 511 A.D., after his victory over the Visigoths at Vouglé, to the bishops of the many cities that came under his domination as the fruits of this success. He informs the bishops that he will free all prisoners, either clerical or lay, for whom this favor shall be asked in letters “sealed with your ring.” This, however, only confirms the other testimony to the effect that the bishops had signets, but does not suffice to establish the existence at this time of rings given to them at their consecration as symbols of their office.[235]

The French kings of the Merovingian age stamped upon their royal documents the design engraved on their signet rings, the accompanying formula being frequently as follows: “By the impress of our ring we corroborate (roborari fecimus)”; slightly different forms appear sometimes. The following list gives, with the dates, a number of seal impressions that have been found on such documents:[236]

• Childebert I, 528 A.D.
• Sigebert I, 545, A.D.
• Childeric I, 583 A.D.
• Dagobert I, 629, 631–632, 635 A.D.
• Childeric II, 664 A.D.
• Thierry III, 673 A.D.
• Dagobert II, 675 A.D.
• Charles Martel (mayor of the palace), 724 A.D.
• Pepin le Bref (mayor of the palace), 748 and 751 A.D.
• Pepin le Bref, king, 755 and 768 A.D.

In the Carolingian period, Charlemagne and his successors continued the use of the same formulas.

The possession of signet rings by well-born women, although not usual in Roman times, became quite common in the early Middle Ages, under the influence of the Germanic peoples, which accorded to woman a much more important station than did the Romans or Gallo-Romans. Among the relics of the Merovingian period that have been preserved to our day, is the ring of Berteildis, one of the wives of Dagobert I (602?-638).[237] It is of silver and is inscribed with the name of the queen and the monogram of the word regina.[238] A document from the time of Childeric II, dated in 637, shows impressions of two queenly signets, one that of Emnechildis, wife of Sigebert II, King of Austrasia and guardian of Childeric, and the other belonging to Blichildis, Childeric’s wife.

In the tomb of the Frankish king Childeric I (458–481 A.D.), accidentally discovered at Tournai in 1653, in an ancient cemetery of the parish church of St. Brica, were found a number of valuable relics of this sovereign, among them his signet ring. After having been taken to Vienna by Archduke Leopold Wilhelm, then governor of the Low Countries, the treasure came, after his death, into the Imperial Cabinet there. In 1665 the Archbishop of Mayence secured from Emperor Leopold I permission to offer it to Louis XIV. In July of this year the precious objects were transmitted to the French king and were deposited in the Cabinet de Médailles, recently constituted in the Louvre. Shortly afterward, they were transferred to the Bibliothèque du Roi, and were safely preserved in this institution, under its changing names, until 1831, when the ring and other of the Childeric relics, as well as a number of other historic objects, were stolen from the library. The ring was never recovered. Fortunately there exists a very exact description and a figuration of the ring in an account of the treasure published in 1655, at Antwerp, by Jean Jacques Chifflet, first physician of the Archduke.[239] The ring, which is of massive gold, bears a large oval bezel on which is engraved the bust, full face. The sovereign is beardless, with long hair parted in the middle and hanging down to his shoulders. The bust is garbed in Roman style; on the tunic may be seen a decorative plaque. The king’s right hand holds a lance which rests on his shoulder, as may be observed in the imperial medals of Constantine II, Theodosius II, and their successors. The legend, in the genitive case, Childerici Regis, presupposes the word signum or sigillum, as the ring was unquestionably a signet. M. Deloche considers it probable that it was made on the occasion of Childeric’s marriage with Basnia, Queen of Thuringia, who had abandoned her native land and her husband to wed the Frankish sovereign. Clovis I (481–511) was the offspring of this union. Although the original has been lost there has fortunately been preserved an imprint from it on the margin of a manuscript in the Bibliothèque de Sainte Geneviève; of the entire ring there is the carefully executed drawing made for Chifflet’s work.[240]

In many cases the Carolingian monarchs rendered their signets, set with antique gems, significant of their own personality by having their names engraved around the setting. In this way Carloman (741–747) utilized an antique gem showing a female bust with hair tied in a knot, while Charlemagne’s choice was a gem engraved with the head of Marcus Aurelius; at a later time he substituted for this one bearing the head of the Alexandrian god Serapis. It is noteworthy that there is a great likeness between the portraits of Antoninus Pius and the type chosen for Serapis. Louis I, le Debonnaire (814–840), selected a portrait of Antoninus Pius, and his son, Lothaire, Roman emperor, 840–855 A.D., a gem with Caracalla’s head, the choice being no inappropriate one in view of Lothaire’s weak and treacherous character. Rev. C. W. King conjectures that the selection of the particular head may have depended upon its resemblance, more or less close, to the features of the monarch, as even though the likeness should not be very exact, the work would surpass anything that the unskilful gem-cutters of this age could produce.[241]

Of the seal of the Prophet Mohammed, we are told by Ibn Kaldoun that when he was about to send a letter to the Emperor Heraclius, his attention was called to the fact that no letter would be received by a foreign potentate unless it bore the impression of the Prophet’s seal. Mohammed therefore had a seal made of silver, bearing the inscription “Mohammed rasûl Allah,” “Mohammed the Apostle of God”; these three words, according to Al-Bokhari, were disposed in three lines. The Prophet made use of this seal and forbade the making of any one like it. After his death it was employed by his successors, Abu Bekr, Omar and Othman, but the last-named unluckily let it fall from his hand into the well of Aris, whose depth it had never been possible to measure. A duplicate was executed to replace the original, but its loss was greatly deplored, and was looked upon as a possible presage of ill-fortune.[242] The title inscribed upon it was prouder in its simplicity than that assumed by any other ruler, not excepting those who claimed for themselves a divine ancestry, or divine attributes. These could at most pretend to rank as divinities of a lower order, while Mohammed claimed to be the mouthpiece of the one and only God.

Burton writes that it is “a tradition of the Prophet” that the carnelian is the best stone for a signet ring, and this is still the usage among Mohammedans in the Orient. In the Arabian tale entitled “History of Al Hajjaj ben Yusuf and the Young Sayyed,” we read that the signet should be of carnelian because the stone was a guard against poverty.[243]

Some Arabic signets bore peculiarly apt inscriptions. One of these reads: “Correspondence is only a half-joy,” a delicate piece of flattery for the recipient of a letter bearing this seal. Another signet gives the following very necessary warning to the person to whom the letter is addressed, should it happen to contain something which ought not to be revealed. “If more than two know it, the secret is out.”[244] Such inscriptions are certainly more significant than a motto of less special meaning.

In an essay on Arabic signets, Hammer-Purgstall[245] calls attention to a fundamental distinction between talismans and signets. With the former, the inscription is engraved so that it may be read as it stands, while with the latter the characters are reversed so that only the impression gives them in their proper order. Besides this, the talismans rarely contain the wearer’s name, which is the most essential part of the signet. Nevertheless, there can be little doubt that in many cases the signet was at the same time a talisman.

That lovers—even Mohammedan lovers—in the seventeenth century, had romantic designs engraved upon seal rings, is illustrated by what Garzoni relates concerning the seal ring of “Mahometh Bassa.” This bore the figure of a silk-worm upon a mulberry leaf, the design commemorating the wearer’s love for a Moorish girl, and signifying that he drew his life from her as did the silk-worm from the leaf.[246]

Tavernier relates that in his time, the last half of the seventeenth century, the secret treasure of the Sultans in Constantinople was guarded in an innermost treasure-chamber of the Serail. This chamber was only opened at intervals to receive the surplus gold that had been collected from the Empire or received in any way, when the total sum had reached 18,000,000 livres (over $7,000,000] according to the value of the livre in Tavernier’s day). The gold was contained in sacks, each of which held 15,000 ducats. When an addition to the treasure was to be deposited, the Sultan himself led the way to the treasure-chamber and stamped his seal, with his own hand, on red wax spread over the knot of the cord with which the sack was secured. This seal was engraved on the bezel of a gold ring and constituted no design, but simply the name of the reigning sovereign, the characters being probably intricately combined in the elaborate and cryptic manner used in the case of the imperial name and titles.[247]

A Byzantine signet ring of the sixth or seventh century of our era, in the British Museum, shows the head of Christ, beneath which bending figures of two angels in profound adoration are depicted. Angel-figures almost exactly similar may be seen in Byzantine ivory carvings of this later period, the type evidently being one of those rigidly defined in the hieratic art of the school. With this ring were found coins of Heraclius (610–641), the Greek emperor in whose reign fell the death of Mohammed (June 8, 632) and the overthrow of the Sassanian Persian monarchy by the Mohammedans.[248]

How important the possession of a royal seal-ring was considered to be, as proving the title of a successor, appears in the story that at the death-bed of Alexius Comnenus (1084–1118), Emperor of the East, when the son and rightful successor, John Comnenus, perceived that his mother Irene was working to exclude him from the throne and to seat thereon his blue-stocking sister Anna, he took off the imperial ring from the hand of his dying father and thus ensured for himself the title to the Eastern Empire.[249]

Saint Bernard of Clairvaux (1091–1153), the enthusiastic preacher of the Second Crusade in 1147, excuses himself in some of his letters that he has failed to seal them, because he could not lay his hand on his signet. In a letter to Pope Eugene III, the saint complains that several spurious letters bearing his name have been circulated, sealed with a counterfeit seal; he also notifies the pontiff that from this time his letters will bear a new seal, on which will be his portrait and his name.[250]

Well-to-do merchants of mediæval times, not entitled to armorial bearings, often had special individual marks or symbols engraved upon their signets. This custom obtained on the continent as well as in England, and allusion is made in the Old English poem of the fourteenth century, “Piers Plowman,” to “merchantes merkes ymedeled in glasse.”[251] Probably emblems of this kind came to have a certain association with the business which in many cases descended from father to son through a number of generations.

A royal signet ring once believed to be that of Saint Louis (Louis IX, 1214–1270) and long preserved in the treasury of St. Denis, as an object of reverent care, is now in the Louvre Museum. The fact that the crescent is introduced as a symbol fails to connect the ring with the Crusader St. Louis, as this symbol was not used by the Saracens of his time, but was only adopted as a Mohammedan device after the Turks captured Constantinople, the crescent having been a recognised symbol in ancient times in Byzantium long before the city came to be called Constantinople.[252]

The engraved stone in the ring is a table-cut sapphire, the monarch being figured standing, with a nimbus around his head; he is crowned and bears a sceptre. The letters S L on the stone have been interpreted to mean rather sigillum Ludovici than Sanctus Ludovicus, and one critic suggests the possibility that it may have been executed in Constantinople, in Byzantine times, for Louis VII, who was there in 1147, and was received with high honors by Manuel Comnenus, the Greek emperor’s courtesy being rather bred of fear of French aggression than of affection for the French crusader. As we have good evidence that gem-cutting was not practised at this time in France, it seems plausible enough that Louis VII should have availed himself of this opportunity to have a signet engraved for him by a Greek gem-cutter.[253]

The signet ring of King Charles V of France (1337–1380) was set with an Oriental ruby on which was engraved “the bearded head of a king.” This signet was used by King Charles to seal the letters written by his own hand. The somewhat vague description in the inventory suggests that this may have been an antique gem, the supposedly royal head being that of some Greek divinity. The art of engraving on such hard stones as the ruby does not seem to have been practised in the thirteenth or fourteenth centuries, the revival of this art belonging to a later period. Evidently the head was not that of Charles himself or of any of his predecessors, for, had this been the case the inventory would hardly fail to note the fact.[254]

When a certain Bratilos was sent as a messenger by the eastern emperor Cantacuzene (1341–1355) to his empress Irene, to announce the outbreak of a dangerous revolt, he bore a sealed letter from the emperor.[255] While on his journey, however, he began to fear that he might be waylaid and robbed of the important document. This peril he effectively provided against by memorizing the letter and then destroying it, after he had removed the wax impression of the imperial signet, which he could safely guard in his mouth, and which served to accredit him when he came before the empress.[256] Not long afterward Cantacuzene was defeated and deposed by John V, Palæologus, and retired to a monastery, where he lived until 1411, composing a history of his own times in his leisure moments; his wife also took the religious vows under the name of Eugenia.

Much has been written about the ring or rather the engraved seal of Michelangelo. This gem enjoyed such high esteem that it was very often copied, the copies sometimes acquiring the repute of being originals. Four of them, two in paste, one in amethyst, and one in carnelian, exist in Denmark, the two latter having the dimensions of the original gem. The copy in carnelian—the stone in which the original was cut—is exceptionally well executed.[257] The original seal is now in the Bibliothêque Nationale in Paris and came into the possession of Louis XIV in 1680. The king wore it set in a ring.

It was brought to France in 1600 by a Sieur Bigarris, director of the Mint, and its history was at the time traced back to Agosto Tassi, goldsmith in Bologna, to whom Michelangelo had bequeathed it. The gem was the work of Pier Maria di Pescia, and bears his symbolic signature, a boy fishing (pescia, fishing). The dimensions are given as 15 mm. by 11 mm., the form being oval, and in this restricted space is a design embracing twelve human figures, two genii, a horse, a goat and a tree. Two of the figures appear to have been copied from a detail of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel frescoes: a woman helping another woman to place a basket of grapes upon her head. Watelet and Levesque in their “Dictionnaire des Arts” published in 1791, characterize this seal as “the most beautiful engraved gem known.”

The Royal Collection at Windsor Castle contains a gold ring set with a cameo portrait of Louis XII, of France (1498–1515), cut in a pale ruby of clear lustre. The work is believed to have been executed during the lifetime of the king, and was considered by Rev. C. W. King to be the earliest Renaissance portrait cut on a stone of the hardness of a ruby. He regarded it as a work of the famous Renaissance gem-cutter Domenico dei Camei, this artist having engraved a portrait of the Milanese duke Ludovico Sforza, surnamed Il Moro, on the same hard material. The gold plate at the back of the bezel holding the gem bears the inscription “Loys XII^me Roy de France décéda I Janvier, 1515,” the stone having been set in the ring at some time after the monarch’s death.[258]

This collection also contains an imperfect specimen of a squirt-ring. The hoop is of enamelled gold set with a garnet engraved in relief with a mask or bacchic head finely executed by a sixteenth-century artist. The hole at the base of the hoop, with its internal screw-worm, indicates that it was once provided with a squirt for projecting perfumed liquids.[259]

A sixteenth-century portrait by the German painter, Conrad Faber, depicts a well-to-do burgher, possibly a burgomaster, who wears a seal ring on the index finger of his left hand and a ring with a precious stone setting on the fourth finger of the same hand. In this hand he holds something which may be a staff of office; it is surmounted by an octagonal block of ebony in which is inlaid a medallion figuring St. George and the Dragon. The city, as carefully delineated in the background as in the finest of engravings, appears to be one of the historic Rhine cities, and is evidently that with which the sitter was identified.

For signet rings, antique gems continued to be those most favored until the Renaissance period, and even to a considerable extent during this period. However, the development and elaboration of the science of heraldry and the great importance accorded to the possession of armorial bearings soon induced the engraving of these upon the signets, in preference to using antique gems or copying their types. In Elizabeth’s reign and in those of her immediate successors, it is believed that scarcely a gentleman was to be found who did not own and wear a signet ring on which appeared his coat-of-arms. Those not fortunate enough to have the right to display armorial bearings, sometimes sought to make their signets individual by using as designs rebuses expressing more or less well the pronunciation of their names.[260]

Arms were sometimes blazoned on rings by enamel applied to the base of a setting; thus the arms engraved on a rock-crystal or a white sapphire, would appear with their proper hues, the colors showing through the transparent stone, and their effect being heightened by the brilliant medium. A fine example of this kind of ring is one made for Jean Sans-Peur, Duke of Burgundy (1401–1419); another is the signet ring of Mary, Queen of Scots, now in the British Museum.[261]

Bequests of signets to near relatives occur not infrequently in wills of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, as for example in that of John Horton, dated 1565, wherein appears the following: “Item, I give unto my brother Anthony Horton, for a token, my golde ringe w^th the seale of myne armes, desirenge him to be good to my wiffe and my childringe as my trust is in him.” Besides this seal ring, the testator willed “a golde ringe w^th a turkes [turquoise] in it” to his “singular good Lord the Lord Eueerye,” with a plea for friendship toward his wife and children. A ring set with a diamond was bequeathed in 1427 by Elizabeth, Lady Fitzhugh to her son William.[262] This was almost certainly one of the uncut, pointed diamonds used for settings at this early time.

The signet ring of Mary Stuart is one of the chief treasures in the ring collection of the British Museum. It was made for her use after her betrothal to the French Dauphin, later, for a few months, King of France as Francis II (1543–1560), just before her marriage, as after that time the arms of France would have been combined with those of Scotland. The following description is given of this ring in the exceedingly valuable catalogue of the Franks Bequest by O. M. Dalton[263]:

In this example of sixteenth-century French goldsmithing, the colors of the arms have been applied beneath the crystal so that they would not be effaced in using the signet for sealing. In 1792 this ring was in the possession of Queen Charlotte, wife of George III. After her death it became the property of the Duke of York, and when his plate and jewels were sold at Christie’s, in London, March, 1827, it was bought by Mr. Richard Greene, F.S.A., and was acquired from him in 1856 by the British Museum.

A signet ring believed by many to be that of the immortal Shakespeare, was found on March 16, 1810. It was picked up on the surface of the mill-close that adjoins Stratford churchyard; the finder was the wife of a poor laborer. How lightly it was esteemed at the outset is shown by the low price at which it was acquired by Mr. R. B. Wheeler, who paid only thirty-six shillings ($9.00), considered to be the value of the fifteen pennyweights of gold in the ring. In fact, the only circumstances seeming to connect it with Shakespeare are the initials W. S., and the facts that the ring appears to be of Elizabethan workmanship and that it was found at Stratford-on-Avon, Shakespeare’s home.[264] The initial letters are bound together with a design composed of an ornamental band with tassels, so arranged as to outline a heart. A queer coincidence, if the report be true, is that a certain William Shakespeare was at work nearby when the ring was found.[265]

One of the somewhat less well-known Shakespeare portraits depicts the poet wearing a thumb ring on his left hand. This is the work of Gerald Soest, who was born twenty-one years after Shakespeare’s death; its inspiration is probably to be sought in the Chandos portrait of which it is an amplification and re-arrangement. The face, however, wholly lacks the dignity and expression of the Chandos, being exceedingly weak and commonplace. The hands give the effect of having been copied from those in some other portrait, and, of course, under all these circumstances we would scarcely be justified in assuming that Shakespeare wore a thumb ring, although he may well have done so, in view of the fact that the fashion was common enough in his time. Queen Elizabeth, even, is depicted as wearing one in Zucchero’s portrait of her at Hampton Court.[266]

Another English poet, that master of impassioned verse, Byron, had in his possession a most interesting bloodstone signet ring, engraved with the following three family mottoes: “Tout prest” (Quite ready), motto of the families Monk, Murray and Younger; “Confido, conquiesco” (I trust and am contented), motto of the Dysart, Hodgett, Maroy, Tollmache and Turner families; “Pour y parvenir” (In order to accomplish, or succeed), motto of the families Manners and Manners-Sutton. This ring was owned by Sir Walter Scott, and at the dispersal sale of his personal effects at Abbotsford it was acquired by the late Samuel Latham Mitchell Barlow, the great art connoisseur and collector, by whose son, Judge Peter T. Barlow, of New York, it has been inherited, in whose possession it now is, and through whose courtesy it is here reproduced.

Many interesting facts in regard to the history of the diamond engraved for Queen Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I, have been presented by Mr. C. Drury Fortnum, who purchased the diamond from the collection of the Duke of Brunswick in 1879.[267] In the catalogue of the Duke’s collection this stone is described as the signet of Mary, Queen of Scots, an attribution which had been current for many years; but Mr. Fortnum has shown that the initials on the diamond should be read MR, the cross-bar in the first character representing the letter H, and the whole signifying Maria Henrietta Regina.

Fortunately we have the original of the treasury order given by Charles I, under date of January 16, 1629, directing the payment of a sum of money to the engraver for his work. As this is probably the only case in which the original record of payment for engraving an historical diamond has been preserved, it is reproduced here from Mr. Fortnum’s paper in Archæologia.[268]

As a general rule a signet ring was one of the last objects of value that an owner would part with, but we know that after Charles’ execution Henrietta Maria was reduced to dire straits and was obliged to sell all her possessions in order to procure the bare necessaries of life. In Tavernier’s account of his travels in the East he states that in 1664, he showed to the representative of the Shah of Persia a ring engraved with the royal arms of England, and which had belonged “to the late King of England.” As letters and papers have been preserved, dating from 1656 to 1673, and sealed by Charles II with the diamond signet used by his father, we have proof that Charles II had that signet in his possession in 1664, and Mr. Fortnum’s conjecture that the engraved diamond in Tavernier’s hands was that of Henrietta Maria is plausible enough.

The Shah of Persia sent the diamond back to Tavernier, requesting information as to what was engraved upon it, but the French jeweller, fearing possible complications, did not venture to go beyond the vague statement that the stone bore the arms of a “European prince.” The Shah does not appear to have bought this diamond; probably he did not care much for historic souvenirs of European royalties, and possibly he doubted whether Tavernier had the right to offer for sale what might be the signet of a European monarch. However, the Shah’s minister did not fail to express his admiration of the skill shown by the “Franks” in the art of diamond-engraving.[269]

Already, in the Vetusta Monumenta of Astle, published by him in 1792, the seal is figured as that of Mary Queen of Scots, and is said to have been in the possession of Louis XIV. If this statement be correct, the signet might have been among the diamonds sold by Tavernier to Louis XIV, on the former’s return to Europe. It seems to have shared the fate of a large number of the jewels belonging to the French crown and to the royal family, and next appears in a sale held in London June 19, 1817, being described in the catalogue as “the engraved diamond ring of Mary, Queen of Scots, upon which are engraved the arms of England, Scotland and Ireland, quartered,” and authenticated by a communication from “that correct and learned antiquary the late Robert Gough, Esq.” to the following effect:

In these statements there is probably a confusion between the diamond of Henrietta Maria, known later as that of Mary, Queen of Scots, and a diamond signet of Charles I, for such a signet is said to have been given to Bishop Juxon by Charles just before his execution. We have every reason to believe that Henrietta Maria bore her own signet with her when she left England.

The ring containing this historic diamond was purchased at the sale of June 19, 1817, by Dr. Curry (probably James Curry, M.D., physician at Guy’s Hospital) for the sum of £90 6s ($450), although a contemporary letter states that the sum was £86, and adds that the stone itself was worth but £10. The ring was subsequently acquired by an agent, Van Prague, and after passing through several hands came into the possession of Mr. Leverson, a diamond dealer of Paris, who sold it to the Duke of Brunswick. At one time it was owned by the Earl of Buchan, and it was exhibited at Holyrood in 1843, when several rock crystal models were made of it. One of these served Mr. Fortnum as a standard of comparison for the identification of the Duke of Brunswick’s diamond.

The stone is a table diamond and is engraved with the arms of England and France in the first and fourth quarters, with those of Scotland in the second quarter, and those of Ireland in the third. In 1887, on the occasion of Queen Victoria’s Jubilee, this signet was presented to the queen by Mr. Drury Fortnum, and it is now in the royal collection at Windsor Castle.[270]

One of the most interesting engraved diamonds is the signet of Charles I of England, when Prince of Wales.[271] This is a large shield-shaped diamond engraved in intaglio with the Prince of Wales’ feathers between the letters C.P. and issuing from a coronet; on a ribbon beneath appears the motto ICH DIEN. The stone is set in a ring of enamelled gold. The engraving is finely executed and deeply cut. This signet has often been regarded as that of Charles II, but all doubt as to the original owner is set at rest by the existence of an autograph letter of Charles I, in the possession of M. Labouchère of Paris, bearing its impress.

The Royal Collection at Windsor Castle also contains the signet used by Charles I, as King. It has a richly ornamented hoop, to which are attached, at the shoulders, chiseled steel figures of a lion and a unicorn. The gold bezel has a steel facing constituting the seal. This is engraved with the royal arms; in the first and fourth quarters, the arms of England and of France; in the second quarter, those of Scotland; in the fourth quarter, the Irish harp. On the gold base of the bezel is the motto: Dieu et mon Droit, inserted in letters of steel. This constitutes an exceptionally fine example of composite metal-work. The archæologist, Rev. C. W. King, suggests that it may be the work of the “Inimitable Simon,” as he was called, who later engraved dies for the coinage of the Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, although he admits that it may have been executed by Vanderdoort, who was commanded in 1625 to make pattern pieces for the coinage of Charles I, at the beginning of the King’s reign.[272]

A signet ring used by Kaiser William II is set with a reddish-white onyx, on which has been engraved a shield bearing the German eagle, and surmounted by a crown and the letters, W. II. I. R., Wilhelm der Zweite, Imperator Rex. This signet belonged to the present Kaiser’s grandfather William I, and has been adapted to the present monarch’s use.

Signet rings were very popular in the latter part of the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth century. Then, later on, they were revived in the latter part of the nineteenth century, this revival continuing into the twentieth century. In the earlier period it was customary to engrave the crest and motto, or the full arms and motto, on the ring stone, which was generally bloodstone or carnelian, occasionally white chalcedony, more rarely lapis lazuli, in contradistinction to the large seal fobs, in which the favorite stones were amethyst, rock crystal, smoky topaz (quartz variety), pale chalcedony or some lighter colored material. Many signet rings were engraved upon gold, the sides of the rings being also engraved, as a general rule.

Since the year 1900, great interest has been aroused in seal rings, many of the designs of which are incised in gold or in platinum, the entire ring being of gold or platinum, or having a platinum disk set in a gold hoop. The entire variety of fancy stones is used: pale amethyst, ruby, beryl, aquamarine, zircon, garnet, sard which has been stained brown, carnelian (rarely), bloodstone, and jade—both the nephrite variety from New Zealand and Russia and the jadeite variety found at Bahmo, Burma. Occasionally the seals of rings are made of fine sapphires, emeralds, or rubies, and sell for from $1,000 to $10,000, or even more.

Seal rings were extensively worn in the period from about 1865 to 1885. Frequently these had absolutely nothing engraved upon them. The setting was often an oblong, rectangular onyx, sometimes one inch or one and a quarter inches long. Occasionally upon this was inset a rose diamond initial; or else the initial was cut upon the stone—when the onyx was black on top—rarely a crest. In many cases the stone was white above and pink below, a sardonyx, and the initial was cut through the light layer. Or else it was white or pale gray on a black ground. The general effect was thus gray, the gem being of the type known as nicolo.

Then came the cameo rings, with designs either black on white or brown on white, sardonyx; or white on green, chrysonyx. Later again taste developed for intaglio rings. In this instance, instead of stones of a brownish or whitish gray,—chalcedony,—those of a pale brown or a dark brown were chosen and these were called sard. Because of the brown hue, the term onyx was also applied to them. This must not be confused with the antique sard which resulted from burning a stone of a different hue, as in the case of the antique carnelian also. The translucent or opaque varieties, with rich red or dark brown top, were called sard, whereas the paler translucent and almost transparent varieties,—when pale red, yellowish red or almost yellow,—were called carnelian.

While the natal gem in a simple but effective setting is the most appropriate ring for a girl or boy, a small seal ring for the boy, when he is about 12 years old is not unfitting, the seal being so well-executed that it may serve him when he has reached manhood. For very young children, no stone can be given the preference over the turquoise, which in its delicacy and beauty of color cannot be excelled. Small pearls are also used, or tiny brilliant rubies.[273]

In a brightly-written tale for children, the style of which is rather pronouncedly “up-to-date,” a sapphire signet is an important element of the story. Long years ago, in the island of Bermuda, in the Revolutionary period, this heirloom was surreptitiously secured by a young girl, to whom it was destined on her coming of age, but who was childishly impatient to gain possession of it before the time. The little heroine comes to New York and under the stress of a weird Tory plot, hides away her signet in the false bottom of an old trunk, stored away in the garret of the Charlton Street house in which she has lived. Here, more than a century later, a group of bright children find a diary of the long-dead heroine written in cipher. One of them is clever enough to unravel this mystery and they finally succeed in finding the hidden signet.[274]