Part 2

The most celebrated ancient writers, and several modern ones, have spoken honourably of the finest beards of antiquity. Homer speaks highly of the white beard of Nestor and that of old king Priam. Virgil describes Mezentius’s to us, which was so thick and long as to cover all his breast; Chrysippus praises the noble beard of Timothy, a famous player on the flute. Pliny the younger tells us of the white beard of Euphrates, a Syrian philosopher; and he takes pleasure in relating the respect mixed with fear with which it inspired the people. Plutarch speaks of the long, white beard of an old Laconian, who, being asked why he let it grow so, replied: _’Tis, that, seeing continually my white beard, I may do nothing unworthy of its whiteness_. Strabo relates, that the Indian philosophers, the Gymnosophists, were particularly attentive to make the length of their beards contribute to captivate the veneration of the people. Diodorus, after him, gives a very particular and circumstantial history of the beards of the Indians. Juvenal does not forget that of Antilocus, the son of Nestor. Fenelon, in describing a priest of Apollo in all his magnificence, tells us, that he had a white beard down to his girdle. But Perseus seems to outdo all these authors: this poet was so convinced that a beard was the symbol of wisdom, that he thought he could not bestow a greater encomium on the divine Socrates, than by calling him the bearded master, _Magistrum barbatum_.

Several other writers have treated of this subject. Voltaire often touches on it in his voluminous writings. The author of the _Modes françoises_ has bestowed many pages on it; the learned Don Calmet has not thought this subject beneath his attention, on which he has written a particular work, intituled _Histoire de la barbe de l’homme_. The Italians have a modern work, intitled: _Barbalogia del Caval. Valeriano Vanetti_, 1760. This Vanetti, after giving an account of the revolutions which beards have undergone, enters into a very learned and serious dissertation on the various manners in which they were worn among the Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans; but the most obscure and least authenticated part of his work is that where he warmly maintains, against _Van-Helmont_, that Adam was created with a beard on his chin. I readily confess I have not carried my inquiries so far into remote antiquity. In the 16th century there were a great number of works published on the beard, of which I shall have occasion to speak in another place.

But the most extraordinary account in the history of beards is that given by Titus Livius. Infinitely better than the eloquence of a Demosthenes or the courage of an Alexander could have done, did the beard suspend on a sudden the ferocity of a people of barbarians thirsty of the blood of their enemies.

The Gauls, commanded by Brennus, had just taken Rome by assault.[10] The senators, sitting, each at the door of his house, in their curule chairs, awaited death with that coolness and resolution so natural to these high spirited republicans. Their majestic looks and long white beards so astonished these fierce conquerors, that their rage for carnage gave place to admiration: all of a sudden they were struck motionless with astonishment; their arms fell from their hands. The Romans however continuing to preserve a grave and silent countenance, a Gaul, enraged to see the slaughter suspended by the sight of a long beard, boldly advanced, (as if to break the spell which deprived his countrymen of their wonted fierceness) and laid hold of that of an old man, who, shocked at the soldier’s audacity, knocked him on the head with his ivory rod. This stroke of the ivory rod destroyed the illusion, and became the signal of the massacre.[11]

Footnote 10:

_Anno_ 365.

Footnote 11:

_Ex Livio, Decade_ 1^o. _lib._ 5.

The beard was likewise very much esteemed among the old Romans; and even when they adopted, through effeminacy, the custom of shaving, they preserved the most religious respect for this mark of manhood. The first shaving of a young man was done with the greatest ceremony, and these first fruits of the chin were carefully collected in a gold or silver box, in order to be afterwards presented to some God, as a tribute of youth; this pious offering was mostly made to Jupiter Capitolinus.

While the Gauls were under the sovereignty of the Romans, none but the nobles and Christian priests were permitted to wear long beards. The Franks having made themselves masters of Gaul, assumed the same authority as the Romans: the bondsmen were expressly ordered to shave their chins, and this law continued in force ’till the entire abolishment of servitude in France. So likewise, in the time of the first race of kings, a long beard was a sign of nobility and freedom. The kings, as being the highest nobles in their kingdom, were emulous likewise to have the largest beard: Eginard, secretary to Charlemain, speaking of the last kings of the first race, says, they came to the assemblies in the Field of Mars in a carriage drawn by oxen, and sat on the throne with their hair dishevelled, and a very long beard, _crine profuso, barbâ submissâ, solio residerent, & speciem dominantis effingerent_.

To touch any one’s beard, or cut off a bit of it, was, among the first French, the most sacred pledge of protection and confidence. For a long time all letters, that came from the sovereign, had, for greater sanction, three hairs of his beard in the seal. There is still in being a charter of 1121, which concludes with the following words: _Quod ut ratum & stabile perseveret in posterum, præsenti scripto sigilli mei robur apposui cum tribus pilis barbæ meæ_.

Of all the people in the world, the Orientals seem to be those who have the most constantly worn long beards: several nations shaved when in mourning, such as the Syrians and Persians. Beards were, and still are at this day, under the controul of religious usages. Zingzon affirms, that the manner of wearing the beard is an essential point in the religion of the Tartars; that they call the Persians schismatics, because they have abated their rigour to such a degree as to arrange their beards in a manner directly contrary to the rite of the Tartars; he adds, that this dangerous heresy was the cause of a bloody war between these two nations.

All the world knows that the most dreadful oath among the Mahometans is to swear by the beard of their prophet. It is said in baron Tott’s memoirs, that the first care of an Ottoman monarch, on his ascending the throne, is to let his beard grow out: the Tartarian princes follow the same custom. The same writer observes, that sultan Mustapha III. was not satisfied with letting his grow out, but that he stained it black, in order that it might be more conspicuous the first day of his going out. The princes, kept prisoners in the seraglio, wear only whiskers, as likewise all the young people, who don’t think themselves fit to wear a whole beard ’till the age of maturity, and this is what they commonly call _becoming prudent_.

Several great men have honoured themselves with the surname of _Bearded_. The emperor Constantine is distinguished by the epithet of _Pogonate_, which signifies _the Bearded_. In the time of the crusades, we find there was a _Geffrey the Bearded_: Baldwin IV. earl of Flanders, was surnamed _Handsome-beard_;[12] and, in the illustrious house of Montmorenci, there was a famous _Bouchard_, who took a pride in the surname of Bearded: he was always the declared enemy of the monks, without doubt because of their being shaved.[13]

Footnote 12:

This Baldwin, in a charter of Robert king of France, in the year 1023, is called _Honesta Barba_.

Footnote 13:

The singular quarrel which he had with the monks of St. Denis is given at length in my _Description des environs de Paris_, under the article _Isle St. Denis_. This quarrel was the occasion of this family’s changing their name from _Bouchard_ to _Montmorenci_.

In the tenth century, we find, that king Robert (of France) the rival of Charles the Simple, was as famous for his exploits as for his long white beard. In order that it might be more conspicuous to the soldiers, when he was in the field, he used to let it hang down outside his cuirass: this venerable sight encouraged the troops in battle, and served to rally them when they were defeated.

William of Tyre relates an adventure, which proves how much a long beard was valued, and how disgraceful it was for a man of honour to be without one.

Baldwin, count of Edesse, being in great want of money, had recourse to a stratagem as new as the success of it appeared to him certain. He went to his father-in-law, Gabriel, a very rich man, and told him, that, being greatly pressed for money by his troops, to whom he owed thirty thousand michelets,[14] and not being any way able to raise so large a sum, he had been obliged to pledge his beard for the payment of it. The astonishment of the father-in-law was so great at what he heard, that, doubting if he had well understood the count, he made him repeat the terms of this strange agreement several times; but being at length too well convinced of his son-in-law’s inability to raise the cash, the credulous Gabriel bewailed his misfortune, saying: “How is it possible for a man to find in his heart to pledge a thing that should be so carefully preserved, a thing that is the proof of virility, wherein consists the principal authority of man, and is the ornament of his face. How could you possibly consider as a thing of little value, continued this wise old man, what cannot be taken from a man without loading him with shame.”[15] The count replied, to these just reproaches, that having nothing in the world that he valued so much, he had thought it his duty to pledge it to satisfy his creditors, and that he was determined to fulfill his promise, if he could not immediately find the money he so much wanted. The father-in-law, alarmed for the beard of Baldwin, instantly gave him the thirty thousand michelets, recommending him at the same time never more to pledge a property, on which the honour of a brave knight depended.

Footnote 14:

A Greek money of Michael Paleologus, emperor of the East.

Footnote 15:

——_Quærit iterum: Quare rem tantâ diligentiâ conservandam, argumentum viri, vultûs gloriam, hominis præcipuam autoritatem, ita obligasset, tanquam rem mediocrem & ab homine sine confusione separabilem?_ Historia Belli sacri, lib, ii. cap. 2.

A celebrated painter in Germany, called John Mayo, had such a large beard that he was nicknamed _John the Bearded_: it was so long, that he wore it fastened to his girdle; and though he was a very tall man, it would hang upon the ground when he stood upright. He took the greatest care of this extraordinary beard; sometimes he would untie it before the emperor Charles V. who took great pleasure to see the wind make it fly against the faces of the lords of his court.

In England, the famous chancellor, Thomas More, one of the greatest men of his time, being on the point of falling a victim to court intrigues, was able, when on the fatal scaffold, to procure respect to his beard in presence of all the people, and saved it, as one may say, from the fatal stroke which he could not escape himself. When he had laid his head on the block, he perceived that his beard was likely to be hurt by the axe of the executioner, on which he took it away, saying: _My beard has not been guilty of treason; it would be an injustice to punish it_.[16]

Footnote 16:

Bullart’s elogy of More.

In France, the wise and learned bishop of Bellai, John Peter Camus, one of the greatest men of his time, and one of the greatest enemies of the monks, was likewise famous for a long beard. When he preached, he used to divide it into two or three tufts, according to the number of heads his sermon was divided into.

A bishop of Grenoble was famous in his time for the length of his beard.[17] Molé, the lord keeper of the great seal, who had likewise a very long one, having seen the bishop of Grenoble’s, said, _Now, God be thanked, my beard is under shelter_.

Footnote 17:

One day, this bishop let fall something, when he was at table, on his long beard. One of the servants said to him: _There is a bit of meat on your excellency’s beard_. The servant was answered: _Why dost thou not say on the excellency of your beard?_

What a number of beards should I have to celebrate, if I had resolution enough, to do it! what a crowd of names of heroes and philosophers would come to embellish this precious enumeration! You would be banished from it, sages of the age, who wish only to appear so in your writings; shaved philosophers, whose effeminate appearance always belies the glorious title under which you conceal the pusillanimity of your souls. But you would have an honourable place there, divine men, the pride of Rome and Greece! You, adorable Anacreon, the _patriarch of gallantry_, you, worthy to rank with the longest bearded of the ancients, who took care to let posterity know your pleasures and the beauty of your beard; come and convince our age that this mark of virility is not the enemy of gallantry. And you, O Adrian![18] who, of all the Roman emperors, were the first that brought in vogue this ornament of masculine faces, your example is a proof that the introduction of a like usage is not beneath the greatest prince: I would place on your head an everlasting laurel, and by your side a French monarch, your wise imitator: the friend and protector of arts and sciences. He thought the revival of the majesty of long beards was still wanting to his glory; and, in order to insure more certain and general success to this noble enterprize, he, as the first of his kingdom, let grow out on his royal chin that hair which characterises vigour and majesty. In this manner did chance favour the wise projects of Francis I. to restore an usage as ancient and natural as it was respectable.

Footnote 18:

Adrian was the first Roman emperor that wore a beard, to hide, as it is said, some cicatrices which he had in his face. His successors imitated him down to Constantine, who shaved. Beards came in again under Heraclius, and all the Greek emperors afterwards continued the usage.

This prince being at Remorantin at the count of St. Pol’s, twelfth day, 1521, amused himself with several of his courtiers in attacking with snow-balls a house which the count, with a party of noblemen and gentlemen, defended in the same manner, as is it had been a strong castle. The national courage was equally conspicuous on both sides. The vigorous attacks of the one party were followed by a still more vigorous defence from the other: victory seemed to hang suspended between the Greeks and Trojans, when all of a sudden _ammunition_ failed in this second Troy. The besieged were filled with despair, and the enemy took advantage of their confusion to storm the place. The Trojans were on the point of being overcome by their courageous assailants, when captain de Lorges, having a little recovered himself, resolutely laid hold of a fire-brand, and, Hector like, boldly advanced toward the enemy, and threw it at random among the besiegers. The French monarch, who was climbing up among the foremost, unfortunately received it on his head. Both Greeks and Trojans threw down their arms immediately; an end was put to the play, and every one was taken up with the wound of Francis I. who, by this accident, was obliged to have his head shaved; and being desirous to recover on his chin what he had lost from his head, he let his beard grow out, and every body did the same.

The best establishments always meet with traducers: the beard was not without opposers; it had to fight at one and the same time against the usage, against the prejudice and bad taste of the age, and especially against the fury of the clergy and parliaments, who, as we shall see presently, wanted in those days to make every body shave. But the great and powerful enemies of this mode, far from setting bounds to its conquests, gave additional splendour to its triumph. In a little time, every body submitted to the yoke of the victorious beard, and, in the sequel, a shaved chin was looked upon as a sign of turpitude and debauchery.

Henry III. king of France, furnishes us with an example of the horror in which a shaved face was held in those days. Amidst the debauchery in which this prince was plunged, like a second Heliogabulus, he carried things so far as to appear at a ball close shaved. Some verses of a satire of the poet d’Aubigné have preserved us this fact, with the indignation it inspired. They may be thus rendered in English:

Henry was well versed in judging the dress Of the w——s of his court: of an intrigue not less: His _chin shaved_; his cheeks pale; effeminate manner; Sard’napulus eye; so much woman all over Was he, that one twelfth-day, this doubtful animal, Without brains or consequence, such appeared at a ball.

Let us turn our eyes on a more flattering object, and admire the beard of the best of kings, the ever precious beard of the great Henry IV. of France, which diffused over the countenance of that prince a majestic sweetness and amiable openness; a beard ever dear to posterity, and which should serve as a model for that of every great king; as the beard of his illustrious minister should for that of every minister.

It was in this golden age of bearded chins that those different fashions of wearing the beard called, _sharp-pointed_, _square_, _round_, _fan_,[19] _swallow’s-tail_, _artichoke-leaf_, _&c._ successively appeared. There were even _ligue-beards_. Art was often successfully made use of to give them graceful forms; and the keeping of the beard in order was more expensive to the beaux of those days, than that of the hair of our fribbles is now.[20] But what dependence is there to be put on the stability of the things of this world? By an event, as fatal as unforeseen, the beard, which was arrived at its highest degree of glory, all of a sudden lost its favour, and was at length entirely proscribed. The unexpected death of Henry the Great, and the youth of his successor, were the sole cause of it.

Footnote 19:

At the time that _fan-beards_ were in fashion, says Mr. de St. Foix in his _Essais sur Paris_, they were kept in that form by means of a wax preparation, which gave the hair an agreeable odour and any colour that was desired. The beard was set in order at night, and in order to prevent its being put out of form before morning, it was done up in a sort of purse made on purpose.

Footnote 20:

We read in the _Menagiana_, that a man very fond of his beard paid three half-crowns a month for keeping it in order: on which cardinal Campege wittily observed, _That his beard cost more than his head was worth_. The same thing might be said now-a-days of a number of head-dresses.

Lewis XIII. mounted the throne of his glorious ancestors without a beard. Every one concluded immediately, that the courtiers, seeing their young king with a smooth chin, would look upon their own as too rough. The conjecture proved right, for they presently reduced their beards to whiskers, and a small tuft of hair under the nether lip.

The people at first would not follow this dangerous example. The duke of Sully never would adopt this effeminate custom. This man, great both as a general and a minister, was likewise so in his retirement: he had the courage to keep his long beard and to appear with it at the court of Lewis XIII. where he was called to give his advice in an affair of importance. The young crop-bearded courtiers laughed at the sight of his grave look and old fashioned phyz. The duke, nettled at the affront put on his fine beard, said to the king: “Sir, when your father, of glorious memory, did me the honour to consult me on his great and important affairs, the first thing he did was to send away all the buffoons and stage-dancers of his court.”

The tuft of hair under the nether lip insensibly diminished, and at length entirely disappeared. This resolution caused much grief; several complained bitterly, and obstinately resolved not to follow the new mode. _Le Mercure_ of that period bears honourable testimony of the esteem in which the long beards were held, even after their disgrace. The following sort of funeral elogy is taken from that work: “The beard, which is natural only to man, is the mark of his virility, and gives him precedency among his species; ’tis this token of manhood which adds a dignity to his features, and gives him an air of gravity and modesty, which makes him look full of wisdom.”[21]

Footnote 21:

_Mercure of_ ——, A. D. 1678.

Neither the complaints of the one nor the elegies of the other were of any effect. Every body followed the court.[22] Thou, O celebrated Mithon, whose name merits an honourable place among those of the illustrious men of thy country, thou alone hadst the resolution, amidst thy shaved countrymen, to let thy long beard remain, and to preserve it entire till thy last breath. May thy name, O Mithon, passing down to posterity, be always pronounced with rapture! may the most famous Academies propose thy elogy in emulation of one another! and may it be repeated there, in the most philosophical tone, that thou hadst the courage to appear like a man amidst a people of beardless boys.[23]

Footnote 22:

Marshal Bassompierre said, that all the change he found in the world, after passing twelve years in prison, was, that the men had lost their beards and the horses their tails.

Footnote 23:

_The last that wore a long beard in this city was Mr. Richard Mithon, bailiff and criminal judge of the county of Eu, who lived at the beginning of the last century, and died about the year 1626._ Mercure for January, 1732.

Thus ended the reign of the beard in France. Notwithstanding the prejudice which exists at present, this mark of manhood has not lost its influence. Whenever a foreigner appears in France with a long beard, he not only attracts admiration, but likewise the confidence and respect of those that see him. A Genevese, called Liotard, is an example; he knew very well how to make an advantage of this ascendancy, which gives an imposing appearance to people greedy of novelty.

He was a portrait painter, and had lived three years at Constantinople, where his talents got him to be sent for by the grand seignior to come to the seraglio to draw the pictures of the sultanesses: he followed the dress of the Orientals, and, consequently, let his beard grow out, with as much less reluctancy, as it hid the deformity of his face. On his return to France, he resolved to retain his Levantine dress, and after this manner appeared at Paris in the year 1752. He soon perceived that he had no reason to be displeased with his whim. His dress and beard served him much better than his talents, to raise him above the crowd. It is easy to imagine the eagerness of the Parisians for this extraordinary man. The infatuation was universal; his name soon reached the court, where he was sent for at length to draw the portraits of the late king and the royal family, and where, in a short time, he made his fortune.

His talents, less astonishing than his dress, did not consist in the beauty of the colouring, but in the art of taking the most striking likenesses. The marchioness of Pompadour was hurt at the scrupulous accuracy of our painter. As she gave him one day a hundred pounds for a portrait which he had just drawn, she made use of these precious words, which ought to be written in letters of gold in the history of bearded chins: _All your merit consists in your beard_.[24]

Footnote 24: