Part 4

A Woman with a beard on her chin is one of those extraordinary deviations with which nature presents us every day; as to those women who, in order to pass for men, have put on false beards, it was in consequence of some particular circumstance: that there have been others whose character, seconded by nature, made them regard a long beard as an honourable phenomenon for their sex, must seem at this time more extraordinary; but it would appear almost incredible that the eagerness of women to command should prompt them to make use of artificial means to have a beard on their chin, and, by this usurpation, to dispute with man the symbol of his sovereignty, and that, to put a stop to this disorder, the laws should have interfered, if the authenticity of the evidence which we have left did not put it beyond a doubt.

It is Cicero himself who gives an account of this singular law, instituted to prevent the women’s ever succeeding to get a beard: they are expressly forbidden by it _to shave their cheeks_. It is taken from the twelve Tables; the following are the words: _Mulieres genas ne radunto. Let not women presume to shave their cheeks._[36]

Footnote 36:

Cicero, _de Legibus_. _Lib._ ii.

If the abuse which was the cause of this law is one of the greatest encomiums on beards, it presents us however with room for comparison. The women of the present day are every wit as envious of commanding, as those of whom Cicero speaks; but their means are very different.

It is beyond a doubt that the women of those days were very far from disliking a beard. The Venus of Cyprus, (whom the ancient Greeks represented with a bushy beard on her chin,) seems to strengthen this assertion.

As to bearded women, and those who have done themselves the honour of appearing so, we have several examples.

In the cabinet of curiosities of _Stutgard_ in Germany, there is the portrait of a woman called _Bartel Graetje_, whose chin is covered with a very large beard: she was drawn in 1587, at which time she was but twenty-five years of age. There is likewise in the same cabinet another portrait of her when she was more advanced in life, but likewise with a beard.

It is said that the duke of Saxony had the portrait of a poor Swiss woman taken, remarkable for her long, bushy beard; and those who were at the carnival at Venice in 1726, saw a female dancer astonish the spectators, as much by her talents, as by her chin covered with a black, bushy beard.

Charles XII. had in his army a female grenadier: it was neither courage nor a beard that she wanted to be a man. She was taken at the battle of Pultoway, and carried to Petersburg, where she was presented to the czar in 1724: her beard measured a yard and half[37].

Footnote 37:

Russian measure.

We read in Trévoux’s dictionary, that there was a woman seen at Paris, who had not only a bushy beard on her face, but her body likewise covered all over with hair. Among a number of other examples of this nature, that of Margaret, the governess of the Netherlands, is very remarkable: she had a very long, stiff beard, which she prided herself on; and being persuaded that it contributed to give her an air of majesty, she took great care not to lose a hair of it. This Margaret was a very great woman.

It is said that the Lombard women, when they were at war, made themselves beards with the hair of their heads, which they ingeniously arranged on their cheeks, in order that the enemy, deceived by the likeness, might take them for men. It is asserted, after _Suidas_, that, in a similar case, the Athenian women did as much.[38] These women were more men than our Jemmy-Jessamy countrymen.

Footnote 38:

[Greek: Pogonias], _sive de barbâ Dialogus Antonii Hotomanni_.

About a century ago the ladies adopted the mode of dressing their hair in such a manner that curls hung down their cheeks as far as their bosom. These curls went by the name of _whiskers_.[39] This custom undoubtedly was not invented, after the example of the Lombard women, to fright the men. Neither is it with intention to carry on a very bloody war, that, in our time, they have affected to bring forward the hair of the temple on the cheeks. The discovery seems to have been a fortunate one: it gives you a tempting, roguish, pleasing look, of which the ladies are very fond at present.

Footnote 39:

Servants, and citizens’ wives, who wore _whiskers_ like ladies of fashion, were attacked without mercy. _See Trevoux’s dict._

Some wits have made themselves merry at the women’s not having a beard on their chin like the men: they pretended that it was impossible to shave them without bringing blood, because it is very difficult for the fair-sex to keep their tongues silent a moment. This thought has pleased so much that it has been put into Greek, Latin, Italian, and French verse. Here is the French.[40]

Footnote 40:

See le Menagiana, tom. iv. pag. 206.

Sais-tu pourquoi, cher camarade, Le beau sexe n’est point barbu? Babillard comme il est, on n’auroit jamais pu Le raser sans estafilade.

_IMITATED._

Know’st thou why my dear companion Ladies have not beards like us? Talking always, who could shave them, Without gashing them the deuce.

_AGAIN._

(BY A FRIEND.)

The reason why men should have beards on their face, And that tattling women have none, Is, the Devil can’t shave such a chattering race, But he’d cut their glib cheeks to the bone.

What has been rendered sometimes supportable by circumstances, an extravagant taste, the desire of being distinguished from the crowd, or to command their attention; true taste, and especially the art of pleasing, has always proscribed. We meet with women every day whose features are shaded with this ornament of virility. But very far from priding themselves on this superfluity of nature, they regard it as a blemish to be ashamed of, which they endeavour to eradicate. How many brunetts especially[41] are obliged, in the secret moments of their toilet, to make use of!... But let us by no means reveal these mysterious operations; they have a right to expect our indulgence, as they tend to please us: moreover, a woman may very well be pardoned for correcting this deviation of nature, since the men are not ashamed to disfigure her.

Footnote 41:

The number is greater than people think. We have at present a heroine whose dignities of warrior, juris-consult, man of letters, and minister, as well as a bearded chin, concealed her sex a long time from her countrymen.

It is as ridiculous for a man to look like a woman, as for a woman to look like a man. However, a man without a beard would be much less surprising now-a-days, than a bearded woman, which proves how unnatural our tastes and customs are.

CHAP. V.

_That LONG BEARDS are salutary._

THE beard has not only the advantage of giving a man a stern, majestic air, of preserving over the sex the empire which Nature has bestowed on him, and of displaying on his face the characteristical marks of his manhood, but likewise enables the attentive observer to remark, by more determined changes, the different states of human life, and gives him the still more valuable advantage of being useful to his own preservation.

Nature made nothing in vain, and the course of her wise operations is never opposed with impunity. Is it not natural to suppose, that this bushy hair which she has placed on man’s face must have an influence on the salubrity of the neighbouring parts that are acknowledged to be essential? Is it possible to think otherwise, without accusing our common mother of inconsequence, and charging her uniform conduct, (which so fully explains its own motives,) with folly and extravagance? How is it possible then for people to venture to thwart the wisdom of her intentions, and destroy their effects, without being afraid of drawing on themselves a superabundance of evils, to which human nature is already too much subject? This however is what we do every day, in order to comply with a very unnatural custom.

The beard, among men, is the sign of puberty, vigour, and weakness. ’Tis this hair on the chin which first tells him that the time is come when his organs, being more unfolded, will procure him a new existence, that he is entering the state of manhood, that he is going to take his place in society, and that he is endowed with the valuable faculty of begetting his own likeness.

This down on the chin is the same with young men, as the increase of the bosom with young girls. These two proofs of puberty announce, in both sexes, that sweet inquietude, the prelude of love and pleasure; those emotions, desires, and wants to be happy which nature has implanted in the human breast; and at the same time the power of reason.[42] “The beard,” says Theodoret in his fourth discourse on the Providence of God, “informs these young folks, who have this downy hair on their chin, that it is time to leave off childish plays, in order to employ themselves about more serious things.” ’Tis then the greater or less quantity of beard a man has that determines, in the same proportion, the vigour of his body; ’tis then that Nature, steady in her course, requires its increase, and there is no doubt but our perseverance in thwarting her will, injures the adjoining parts.

Footnote 42:

“It is at the time the Devil is in a passion that the beard begins to bud; and if ever a man has occasion to show some sign of courage or make some sensible observation, ’tis then his beard begins to come. _Pogonologia._”

If it is evident that a long beard, by the equal heat which it maintains, procures glandulous bodies a mild perspiration, and that it draws away the humours intended by Nature for its nourishment, it cannot be denied but that, the beard being cut off, and neither the perspiration nor secretion having place, the humours, which ought to have produced both, take a different course and become prejudicial to the parts through which they are obliged to circulate. This is the sentiment of a very learned writer, who has examined the beard under this interesting point of view. “It is incontestable,” says he, “that a long beard contributes greatly to health, because, whilst it draws off the superfluous humours which nourish this mark of manhood, it preserves the teeth a long time from rotting, and strengthens the gums, an advantage which those who shave are generally deprived of, who, almost all, are tormented with a dreadful pain in the teeth, and lose them all before they are any way advanced in age. The beard, in summer,” continues the same author, “defends the face from the burning rays of the sun; and in winter from rimes. In short, it preserves a man from a number of disorders, such as the quinsy and the decay of the palate, &c.”[43] Adrian Junius, a physician who lived in the sixteenth century, in his commentary on the hair of the head, asserts that the beard is a preservative against several disorders. Gentien Hervet, in one of his discourses on beards, relates, that after the council of Trent, several ecclesiastics, being obliged to shave, were some time after seized with a violent tooth ach. I may add to these authorities what I have been told by very credible persons. A German gentleman, having been a long time tormented with a violent pain in his teeth, was advised to let his beard grow out, and he was entirely indebted to this remedy for his cure.

Footnote 43:

Pierius Valerianus, _Pro Sacerdotum barbis_.

The ancients seem to have been more sensible than we of the particular virtue of this ornament of manhood. It was not without reason that they represented Esculapius, the God of Physic, ornamented with a bushy, golden beard, whilst his father, Apollo, had a shaved chin.

This symbolical beard proclaimed to the Greeks, not only that they should wear their beards, but moreover, by the richness of its metal, how necessary the beard was to their health. It was not with impunity, say several writers, that Dionysius the tyrant took away this golden fleece from the God of Physic: among others, they regard, as a chastisement for this sacrilege, his being obliged, through his mistrust, to have his children burn his beard with hot nut-shells, rather than trust himself in the hands of the barbers of Syracuse.

The denomination which the Latins give the beard proves that they were thoroughly persuaded of its preserving them from defluxions and other disorders to which the nudity of our chins is exposed: they called it _vestis_ (clothing), and _investis_ (without clothing), any one not of the age of puberty.

As to us, slaves to the odd customs which we have ourselves invented, we are still very far from thinking that it is proper to look like a man. A manly, vigorous look is not fashionable, and even health is no longer in vogue. I see very clearly that the beard, should it be again admitted in its turn, may very well cause the destruction of some disagreeable customs, among others, that of taking snuff; but, in order to give an idea of this loss, I will here place the sentiment of a contemporary on this sternutative powder. “Snuff,” says he, “gives a kind of slovenly appearance to those who make use of it, and which they are incapable of avoiding: their breath has a disagreeable smell, their noses are almost always foul, their clothes very often dirty, their faces disgusting, their tongues dry, especially after sleep, &c. But all this is nothing to the disagreeable disorders which the use of this powder produces; and after the enumeration which I’m going to make of them, people will be astonished still more that such a bad custom is not laid aside.” He then continues: “Snuff is hurtful to dry, bilious, and hot constitutions; it intoxicates and discomposes the functions of the brain, brings on vomiting, weakens the stomach, irritates the nerves, impairs the faculties of the understanding, destroys the memory, takes off all sense of smelling, heats, disturbs the sleep, causes vapours and swimmings in the head, and at length brings on an apoplexy or a lethargy.”[44]

Footnote 44:

Discours preliminaire des Tables néologique & météorologiques, by M. Bazoux. Mr. Buc’hoz has just published a work on the use of snuff, which corroborates this opinion.

If this account is just, and we may be permitted to add to it the disgusting marks which this powder imprints on the beauty of the fair, it must be confessed that great obligation would be due to whatever should cause it to be disused.

In ripe age, the beard is the sign of physical powers: in old age, the symbol of veneration. What sight is there more reverend than an old man with a venerable, long, white beard, receiving the caresses of his grand-children, the sole consolation of his burthensome years! Surrounded by his family, he is the image of wisdom and divinity. Is there any thing more noble than Nestor appeasing the rage of Achilles, lamenting the misfortunes of that division, giving advice to all the kings of the camp of the Greeks, and seeing himself the object of general veneration? Where is there to be found a more striking example of majestic sweetness than that of the sage Mentor? Is there a more moving picture than that of old Priam at Achilles’s feet, kissing the terrible hands of the murderer of his son; and to see this venerable old man beg with tears the sad remains of the unfortunate Hector? All these different sketches may give some idea of the majesty and nobleness which a long beard and hoary locks stamp on the person of an old man. But let any one fancy Mentor and Nestor shaved, and old king Priam without his beard and white hair, having each of them a wig with three tails; this allusion, at first so flattering, will disappear; ridicule will succeed to respect, and he will no longer see in these heroes, but the figure of our neighbour the churchwarden, the overseer of the poor, and the auctioneer.

CHAP. VI.

_Of FALSE BEARDS._

THE substitutes of art are to nature what hypocrisy is to virtue: both are unworthy of an upright man, who is no more afraid to discover the sentiments of his heart, than the lineaments of his face. But if, as a famous moralist said, _hypocrisy is a homage which vice pays to virtue_, false beards should likewise be regarded as a homage which luxury or idleness pays to natural beards.

Such impositions are more or less condemnable, according to the causes from whence they proceed. The old man whom Theophrastus speaks of, who, in order to plead before the senate of Lacedemon, stained his beard and hoary locks black, dearly merited the mortifying affront which a meanness so unworthy of his age publicly drew on him. As he was debating his cause, his adversary interrupted him, and addressing himself to the senate, asked what confidence could be given to the words of a man who carried a lie in his face?

Towards the middle of the fourteenth century, false beards came much into fashion in Spain, especially in the estates of Cortez of Catalonia. This artifice, which procured the advantage that a beard gives a man, with much ease, must appear much less strange among a people whose character has gravity for basis. This mode was adopted with the greatest eagerness. The same persons had beards of different forms and colours, and could change them as they pleased: they had different ones to wear holidays and working-days; so that a man might have a short red beard in the morning and in the evening a long black one. Every one changed his appearance according to his interest. Such a commodious fashion and so much followed favoured however a great many misdemeanours; and these chin-wigs would soon have been as much the wear as those of the head, if the abuse which was made of them had not at length attracted the attention of government. Peter, king of Arragon, expressly forbade all his subjects to wear false beards. They disappeared, and were replaced by natural ones. ’Tis a great pity this mode never got beyond the Pyrenean mountains: had it but reached France it would have acquired a degree of pre-eminence, which the French alone are capable of giving. However, Spain is not the only country where false beards have been in vogue.

About the end of the fourteenth century there was the largest and thickest beard seen at Paris that ever existed perhaps in the world; in fact, it was the wonder of beards. The man who wore it called himself patriarch of Constantinople; from his having such an extraordinary beard, every one was inclined to believe his assertion: so much power has appearance over the mind of man! Never was there a beard that raised such a sensation. The Parisians, as may be supposed, were unceasing in their admiration of it; and it was through favour of his beard that this patriarch, as he called himself, received the most flattering reception. He was every where loaded with honours: and this astonishing beard, which attracted the veneration of a whole people, who were enraptured with it, was nothing but a false one.

What a powerful effect of the majesty of beards! but what a subject of comparison for our manners! How many revered sages, great geniuses, extolled heroes, and lords of high renown, are like this beard! It is some consolation however, that the homage of the gulled citizens is always the satire of the delusion by which they were deceived: the truth comes out sooner or later; and then all the honour of it is clearly perceived to belong to some particular virtue or talent, or a long beard.

CHAP. VII.

_Of GOLDEN BEARDS._

MEN have, in all ages, thought to honour the objects of their regard, or of their worship, by endeavouring to embellish them. But the means which they have employed, whilst they do honour to their zeal, have often given a proof of their bad taste. Because gold is so much valued among us, we thought for a long time, that nothing else could be truly ornamental. Luxury and devotion have both displayed it with profusion; but riches do not constitute beauty. What was intended to be decorated is in fact debased. This abuse, which reigned particularly in the times of ignorance, has even exercised its power over the beard. Oriental pomp presents us at once with an example of this mistaken pride. Several potentates of those countries interwove the hair on their chin with gold thread and spangles. It is not without indignation that St. Chrysostom tells us of a king of Persia, who, in his time, followed this ridiculous custom. After reproaching the extravagant luxury of the fair-sex of Antioch, this evangelical doctor says: “If I should give you an account of a sort of luxury still more absurd than that of those women, who wear gold in their hair, load their lips and eye-brows with it, who, in short, are covered all over with this precious metal; don’t think I want to raise a laugh: what I am going to relate to you exists at this day; it is the king of Persia I mean to speak of. This monarch is not ashamed to wear a golden beard; all the hair of his chin is covered or interwoven with little plates of gold or threads of the same metal. This prince, with his face thus adorned, looks more like a monster than a man.”[45]

Footnote 45:

_Johannis Chrysostomi, in Epistolam ad Collossenses, Comment._ cap. iii. Homilia 8.

This is not the sole example of this ridiculous ostentation: France, which, as all the world knows, has furnished models of extravagance in so many different lines, has not passed over this; it appears even that it had a tolerable long run. Several historians agree in saying, that the kings of the first race prided themselves in wearing a long beard all interwoven and set off with ribbands, and enriched with spangles and gold and silver threads. Whether this mode subsisted from the time of the first race of kings, or was brought from Asia during the crusades, it is certain, that, in the reign of Lewis XI. there is another example of it, which was followed only in imitation of a more ancient mode.

The continuator of Monstrelet relates, that, at the funeral of the duke of Burgundy, who was killed at the battle of Nancy in 1476, the duke of Lorrain, his vanquisher, appeared with a false golden beard, in the same manner as the ancient knights. “He was,” says the historian, “dressed in mourning, and had a long, golden beard that reached down to his middle, _in commemoration of the ancient worthies_, and of the victory which he had gained over him.”

I am of St. Chrysostom’s opinion, that a golden beard is a hideous thing; that, so far from the gold’s heightening its natural beauties, it only degrades them. Nature is like virtue, it pleases without dazzling.

CHAP. VIII.

_Of WHISKERS._

THERE are no bounds for the objects that are subject to human fickleness: every thing changes, all gives way to the whim of fashion, the beard is a proof of it. This ornament of man, which the Divinity placed on his face to mark more particularly the different periods of his life, and be the sign of the most precious faculties of humankind, has not escaped the common law, but been indistinctly subject to that of our capricious instability. The beard, which is the honour of manhood, and what St. Clement of Alexandria boldly calls _the procreative beauty, the ingenuous beauty_, has passed through all the degrees of increase and diminution. Whiskers are a sort of diminutive, one of those intermediate states which preceded its triumph, or defeat. This modification of the beard, spite of its feeble existence, holds notwithstanding a rank in history, and merits to be mentioned.[46]