17th-Century Lovers’ Ring Unearthed: A Lost Love Story Found

The ring, likely given as a token of affection between 1650 and 1750, represents a long-standing tradition of love as something tangible—something you can hold, wear, and cherish. Known as a posy ring, it belongs to a historical category of jewelry engraved with romantic inscriptions, often hidden inside the band so that the words are pressed against the wearer’s skin. These rings weren’t always for marriage; they were often exchanged as symbols of commitment or even courtship gifts.

Finding this ring buried near Whittington Hall raises questions: Who was its owner? Was it a promise never fulfilled, a lost token of devotion, or simply misplaced by a lover centuries ago? We may never know. But we know this—people have always wanted to give love form, to make it permanent.

Before engagement rings, wedding bands, commercial Valentine’s Day cards, and overpriced roses, there was Saint Valentine—or rather, there were several. The Catholic Church recognizes at least three different Saint Valentines, all martyred. One legend suggests that Valentine was a priest in third-century Rome who secretly performed marriages after Emperor Claudius II outlawed them. Another claims he was executed for helping persecuted Christians escape Roman prisons. A more romantic version tells of a Valentine who fell in love with his jailer’s daughter and wrote her a note signed, “From your Valentine.”

Over time, these legends merged with older Roman traditions, particularly Lupercalia, an ancient fertility festival and matchmaking celebrated in mid-February. As Christianity spread, Lupercalia was banned, and February 14 became a day for love, cementing Valentine’s name in history.

But love isn't just about dramatic stories or secret marriages. It’s about the small, everyday gestures—the things we give, the things we say, the things we bake.

Regarding giving love in tangible forms, Romans had their tradition: the maritozzo. This sweet, cream-filled bun dates back to ancient Rome, when wives packed them in their husbands’ saddlebags as a high-calorie treat for long work days. By the Middle Ages, the maritozzo symbolized romance, often given during Lent as an acceptable indulgence.

Then came the real tradition: hiding an engagement ring inside the bun. If a man planned to propose, he’d present his beloved with a maritozzo, often secretly containing a ring or a love note. If she accepted, he was promoted from suitor to maritozzo—“almost a husband” in Italian.

It’s no surprise that maritozzi are still popular today. Once nearly overshadowed by French pastries, the bun is making a major comeback in Rome and beyond, enjoyed at breakfast with a cappuccino or even transformed into gourmet variations filled with mortadella, shrimp, or caviar.

From engraved rings to whipped cream-filled pastries, history proves that humans love the idea of love as much as we love each other. But why do people keep inventing new ways to express something so universal?

One reason may be that love is both timeless and deeply personal. “Present my affection” meant something unique to the person who received that ring, just as a maritozzo meant something special to the couple who shared it. Love is a story, and we want to leave our mark on it—whether in gold, writing or in cream-filled pastries.

So, next Valentine's Day, instead of a cliché card, take a page from history. Give your partner an engraved ring, a maritozzo, or both. After all, people before us must have known how to do love right.