Part 6

“The others,” says the same council, speaking of the Greeks, “have chosen the custom of not shaving; they ground their choice upon the example of the Apostles Paul, and James the brother of the Lord, saying with reason, for nothing should be concealed, that the clergy, as the laity, ought to preserve on their faces this ornament of virility, as a dignity of the human condition, a dignity created by God himself, and with which he has been pleased to honour man alone. As to the clergy, they should be distinguished solely by the tonsure of the head. The Greeks add likewise, that our Lord of Nazareth always wore his beard.” By this session of the council of Limoges, no mention is made of the two councils which expressly forbid priests to cut off their beards, nor of the authority of the fathers and the Levitican law; this was to suit the circumstances: and the council concludes on this matter, _that if the Greeks have nothing to reproach us with, we have nothing to reproach them with_.[62] After this declaration, though it is quite contrary to the fundamental discipline of the Church, the reader will be greatly surprised to learn, that the very same year, 1031, by a canon of the council of Bourges, all the clergy were ordered to get themselves shaved;[63] nor will he be less so to find pope Gregory VII. (formerly friar Hildebrand, a shaved monk, a turbulent, ambitious man, and the declared enemy of emperors and kings,) firmly maintain, that a priest, who wore a long beard, was guilty of a high crime and misdemeanour against Christianity. This pope Gregory was a confounded shearer of beards: he called a council at Gironne in 1073, where the clergy were expressly forbidden to wear this mark of manhood.[64] A few years after, this tyrant of the beards having learned that the archbishop of Cagliary preserved his in all its length, he immediately ordered him to get himself shaved, and at the same time wrote (in 1080) to Orzoc, the podestate of the town, these orders ... “We therefore order your bishop, our brother, to have his beard shaved, _like all the Western clergy, who have preserved this custom ever since the commencement of the Christian faith_:[65] in consequence, we command you likewise to oblige all the clergy that are under your authority, to be shaved, and to confiscate the property of those who shall refuse to obey, to the profit of the Church of Cagliary: make use of severity, for fear lest this abuse should increase.”

Footnote 62:

_Et hac in re neque illi nos, neque nos possumus reprehendere illos, &c._ Concil. Lemovicense, anno 1031, sessio II, acta Concil. tom. vi.

Footnote 63:

Council of Bourges, canon 7.

Footnote 64:

_Synodus Gerundensis, can. vii. Thæsorus anecdotorum._

Footnote 65:

_Scilicet ut quemadmodum totius occidentalis Ecclesiæ Clerus, ab ipsis fidei christianæ primordiis, barbam radendi morem tenuit, &c._ Greg. Papæ vii. Epist. lib. viii. ad Orzoc, judicem Calaritanum.

This letter, wholly founded upon illusion, and which so justly characterises its author, proclaims the approaching destruction of the little beard yet left on the chins of the Latin priests. It was at this time no doubt that those ordinances _de radendis barbis_, which we still read in several communities, were made; and in a little time the laymen were the only ones that could, without a crime, wear long beard; but it did not continue so long.

The German priests soon followed this example, which is proved by a fragment of a letter preserved in the new history of the Benedictines of Black Forest, where Sigefroy of Goetz complains grievously to Papon, the reformer, that the Germans were beginning to imitate the French in several effeminate customs, among others, that of cutting off their beards. In time, the priests saw with pain, that they were separated from other men by a mortifying distinction: what should they do to relieve their offended self-love? Let their beards grow out? The difficulty of ordering it, even sometime after it had been forbidden, did not hinder them; but the quarrel with the Greeks was yet too recent for the Latins to think of looking like those haughty, clearsighted enemies. In order that all might be upon a par, it was decided, that the laity should be shaved: this mean had a very plausible appearance, and it was decided to begin with the princes.

That of Henry I. king of England, was the premier victim of the conjuration. Serlon of Abond, bishop of Seez, undertook the conquest of this royal fleece. Easter-day, 1105, he preached before this prince and all his court: his sermon ran entirely on heads of hair and beards; he exclaimed particularly against the length of the latter, which, he maintained, was contrary to the spirit of the Christian religion: his vehement tone and persuasive eloquence moved all the audience. The king, penetrated with compunction, resolved to be the first to give the example of a sacrifice as holy and new as courageous: then the preacher, approaching Henry, drew out of his sleeve a pair of scissars, and piously sheared the prince’s chin. All the assembly, carried away by this act of religion, would fain imitate him, and the holy bishop became the shearer of the whole congregation. This strange farce, which was not the only one, would appear a fable, if father Mabillon did not very seriously relate the particulars of it in his Annals of the Benedictines.[66]

Footnote 66:

_Moxque Episcopus, extractis è manicâ forficibus, primo Regem, post cæteros Optimates attondisse, &c._ Annal. Benedict.

Some years after, Lewis the Young’s beard underwent the same fate. This prince having burnt three thousand five hundred Champenese, who had taken refuge in Vitry church,[67] was soon a prey to his stings of conscience. Peter Lombard, bishop of Paris,[68] assured him, that there was no more effectual way to expiate this crime, than to have his long beard cut off forthwith. The king clearly saw there was nothing more reasonable; and this pious bishop executed himself the function of barber to his majesty.

Footnote 67:

In the war which he had with Theobald, count of Champaign. See page 41 of this work.

Footnote 68:

Philip, the king’s brother, being appointed bishop of Paris, thought the place beneath him; he resigned it to Peter Lombard, who, according to Zuinger, A. D. 1160, made use of his episcopal authority to have all the priests and monks of his diocese shaved.

Frederick I. surnamed _Redbeard_, was not exempted from the common law; the colour of his beard, the example of two princes, and the strong solicitations of the clergy, prevailed on him to be shaved; and this emperor, who had courageously refused to hold the stirrup to pope Adrian IV. to kiss his feet, and lead his Spanish genet by the bridle, had not the resolution to withstand the priests on this occasion.

When the clergy had succeeded to shave the principal princes of Europe, they might justly expect to see a great many imitators among the rest of the people. Far better than violence, the example would have triumphed over the remaining beards; but the priests of those days of ignorance were strangers to all moderate means.

Godfrey, bishop of Amiens, saying mass Christmas-day, 1105, formed the design of unmercifully stripping all the bearded chins; those, who came to the offering with long beards, were turned back. Frighted at this cruel refusal, most of the men were eager to cut off the hair of their chins, hastily laying hold of scissars, and even knives, in order to be able to present themselves immediately before their bishop with a better grace.[69]

Footnote 69:

See _le Mercure de France_ for January, 1732.

Never was reason the motive of such indecencies. It seems as if truth had revenged itself on these silly, superstitious times at the expense of decorum.

Envy, under the imposing cloak of religion, had just scattered its venom; vengeance had its fill; every chin was shaved, and the Church enjoyed its triumph. Time moderates all things, even the anger of votaries; they forgot that beards had been anathematized: the successors of those very popes, who had looked upon a bearded priest as guilty of a shameful sin, were in a little time no longer afraid to sin themselves, and publicly appeared with long beards. Such were Henry III. Alexander IV. Adrian V. John XX. Nicholas III. &c. &c.

This calm was enjoyed but a short time, before a new storm arose against sacerdotal beards, stirred up by envy and ignorance, to destroy the work of peace and reason. The vicissitude of human things respects nothing. Lewis V. in Germany, Peter the Cruel in Spain, and Philip of Valois in France, had let out their beards, and the mode gained ground throughout Europe. Priests are not blessed with a character that shelters them from the influence of fashion; several were slaves to that which brought beards again in vogue. The popes themselves did not disdain it, though a number of provincial councils stood up against the new bearded chins: in 1323, clergymen, by a synodal statute of the church of Orleans, were forbidden to wear long beards, under pain of excommunication. Meanwhile, according to the quality and condition of the persons,[70] other synodal statutes of the church of Beziers ordered the priests of the diocese to cut off their beards and hair of their heads, except just the crown, in order that they might apply themselves with more diligence to their studies and functions.[71] A provincial council of Paris, and another of Sens, ordered the same; a council of the same town of Beziers, under archbishop Peter Narbonne, in 1351, canon xi. forbids wearing long beards; and as a punishment for such temerity, it is there said: We condemn the offender, if a canon, to be deprived of his daily distribution, and if an incumbent, to pay twelve deniers for the use of the church.[72] The custom of wearing beards was condemned likewise by a synodal statute of the church of St. Malo, in 1370, and all sacerdotal beards were shorn off.

Footnote 70:

_Statuta synodalia ecclesiæ Aurelianensis, anno 1323. Amplissima Collectio veterum Scriptorum, &c._ vol. i. by Martenne and Durand.

Footnote 71:

_Statuta synodali ecclesiæ Bitteris_, 1332. Thæforus Anecd.

Footnote 72:

_Alioquin, canonicum privatum distributionibus illius diei esse volumus, & Beneficiatum puniri pæna duodecimorum denariorum pro tali usu temerario statuimus & mandamus Fabricæ illius ecclesiæ applicandorum._ Thæsorus Anecdotorum.

The beards of the laity, it seems, were spared in this general proscription. The time, no doubt, when the priests could take the liberty of cutting off the beards of both people and kings with impunity, began to decline.

The monks had, a long time before, settled rules for the government of their chins: in 807, at the assembly of Aix-la-chapelle, it was ordered, that the monks should not shave themselves at all during lent, and that the rest of the year, they should do it once a fortnight. We see in the statutes and customs of different monasteries, that the monks were shaved, except the lay-brothers, who were called _Fratres barbati_, bearded brothers.[73] We find in old manuscripts the very prayers that were recited when a monk in full orders had his beard shorn. Humility was the motive of this custom, which was practised with much ceremony. At the taking of the habit, the beard of the candidate was blessed with great ceremony; and when he was made a monk, he dedicated his beard to God. This ceremony was practised likewise by the Heathens. See page 16 of this work.

Footnote 73:

Marbillon’s _Annales Benedictines, lib._ 71.

This new storm was succeeded by another calm, and long beards seemed likely to have a fine time; and truly they appeared again in all their ancient majesty. Julius II. gave the signal, and was followed by all Europe. This pope, by his venerable look, recalled the image of the patriarchs of old. The cardinals, and all the Church, were eager to follow an example so commendable. The age was more enlightened: the ancient disputes were either forgotten, or only thought of to lament the injustice of their cause. The orthodoxy of beards was acknowledged, and truth shined in all its brightness; but gloomy envy at length came to obscure its splendour: some exclaimed that it was a piece of pride, others a scandal; and quarrels that should have been buried for ever in oblivion were again renewed. Jealousy, under a holy pretext, raised itself with more daringness than ever, and occasioned violent animosities. What writings appeared! what outrages and phrenzy!... _Bella horrida, bella ... cerno...._ But let us not entrench upon such precious matters: let us rather endeavour, with the same impartiality, to discover the origin of so many disturbances.

Bessarion, the famous Greek, first, archbishop of Nice, afterwards, cardinal, and, at length, patriarch of Constantinople, came into Italy with the archbishop of Russia, to endeavour to bring about an union between the Greek and Latin churches. Bessarion made no difficulty of subscribing to the orthodoxy of the latter; and this was what got him a cardinal’s hat: his long beard, and that of his companion, accustomed the court of Rome to this mode. Bessarion was one of the stoutest men of his time; every one longed to look like this illustrious man, were it only in the fleece on his chin; and his fine Grecian beard soon produced a number of Latin ones.[74]

Footnote 74:

This cardinal’s beard was not so well received in France. This great man being sent thither as legate, visited, through policy, the duke of Burgundy before he saw king Lewis XI. This monarch was so offended at the preference given his enemy, that, at the first audience he gave this legate, he roughly seized him by his long beard, and gave him a great deal of abuse. The patriarch took this affront so near to heart, that he did not survive it above a year.

Some years after, Julius II. was elected pope; his youth, which suited but badly with the majesty of the papacy, determined him to let his beard grow out, in order to inspire more respect: he was the first pope of his time who gave the Church such a holy and rational example. Clement VII. one of his successors, did not imitate him at first; but having been detained five months in prison by the troops of Charles of Bourbon, the general of the emperor’s army, he came out as if regenerated and triumphant, with his face enobled with a large, bushy beard, which he would never part with. This custom was eagerly adopted by those clergy, who, by their revenues or exploits, held a distinguished rank in the Church or State. It was then that the inferior clergy, and especially the chapters, strongly opposed this pretended indecorum. We read, that, in the reign of Lewis XII. one Anthony de Langheac, canon of the church of Paris, abbot and canon of that of Clermont, counsellor-clerk to the parliament, and ambassador to the republic of Venice, could not enter the choir of the church of Our Lady at Paris with his long beard. On account of the commission with which the king had honoured him, he at length obtained permission to hear matins, which were then said at midnight.[75] In a little time, they were not so scrupulous, as all the clergy let out their beards, even the lowest among them, in order to give themselves a pontifical appearance;[76] when, in France, Francis I. (who might justly boast of having worn the first beard of his kingdom,) for œconomical reasons, armed the enemies of clerical beards with destructive weapons, and was the occasion of the war which we are going to speak of.

Footnote 75:

These particulars are inserted in the register of the capitular resolutions of the year 1505, which may be seen in the archives of the metropolitical church of Paris.

Footnote 76:

_Beroald de Verville_, in his _Moyen de parvenir_, accounts for the promptitude with which the priests imitated the popes. “I will tell you a remark; when the pope has a large beard, the priests will have the same; if he have a shaved chin, they will likewise, because they all aim at the papacy.” _Moyen de Parvenir, chap. tom._

This king, in order to get money from the clergy of his kingdom, says doctor Zuinger, a contemporary, obtained a brief from the pope, which ordered all the French clergy to get themselves shaved, or else to pay a certain sum to have permission to wear their beard.[77] A contribution from such a body might be of great service in a time of scarcity. Francis I. experienced it; for all the tufted prelates, court ecclesiastics, incumbents, and expectant clergymen, paid the money, and retained their beards; but all the canons of small revenue, village curates, and poor rectors, freed themselves from the impost by getting themselves shaved, and this was the source of the troubles which disquieted the reign of Henry II. The difference of the chins of the clergy of the same kingdom caused that dark, intestine war which owed its rise solely to jealousy.

Footnote 77:

_Theatrum vitæ humanæ Theodori Zuingeri, lib._ 2.

Now is the time to mention the discussions which, on account of a beard affair, began to trouble the ancient capital of the world. Some seditious, jealous beings secretly fomented their ruin; the alarm increased; and beards were in the utmost danger, when Pierrius Valerianus undertook their defence. This man, one of the most learned and most bearded of his time discussed, in a most able manner, the cause he undertook; his book, intitled _pro Sacerdotum Barbis_, is dedicated to cardinal Medicis. A just reasoning and a strength of elocution are the great qualities of his discourse; we can perceive that the author was impressed with his subject; he quotes a number of authorities, both sacred and profane, which concur to the triumph of his cause. He complains that the respect due to the ministers of God is already but too much diminished, without endeavouring to destroy it by a debasing custom; and adds, that Jesus never made any law that tended to alter the Levitican ones, which we have cited; and that the son of God himself, having given the example of this discipline, all Christians ought to follow it. “What a piece of folly it is,” cries he, “to pretend that the beard, which was given by God, should be unworthy of his creatures.” He demonstrates, that the canon of the council of Carthage, which forbids clergymen to let out their beards, has been absolutely mutilated: he calls to his aid the opinion of all the great men of his time, and several ancient manuscripts, among others, that which is in the elector palatine’s library.[78]

Footnote 78:

“Who,” says he, “will dare maintain, that the beard is not the ornament of man, the symbol of probity and justice; that it does not give him a grave, stern look; I mean to speak of those who are determined by reason rather than opinion? If it be admitted then that the beard is the ornament of an honest, just man, why should it not be the most decent ornament for a priest, who ought to be an example of virtue.” _Apologia Joannis Pierii Valeriani belumen._ I have seen three editions of this work.

Let us now examine whether this canon of the council of Carthage, on which the antibearded gentry found their anathemas, deserves any confidence. According to them, these are the words of the canon of that council: _Clericus nec comam nutriat nec barbam_; and these, according to the sticklers for beards: _Clericus nec comam nutriat, nec barbam radat._ The former forbids to wear long beards; the latter orders it. So the whole depends on the adding or suppressing of the word _radat_.

It seems at first, in favour of bearded chins, that the termination of the phrase, _nec barbam_, should point out the suppression of a verb, such as _radat_; and indeed it would have been much more simple, and more regular, in the same sense, to write, _Clericus nec comam nec barbam nutriat_.

This objection, which begins to throw light on the wiles of the enemies of beards, would be but weak, were it not confirmed by a number of triumphant proofs, and especially by the opinion of the most celebrated and most laborious commentators, such as fathers Labbe and Hardouin, &c. Savaron, in his commentary on the epistles of St. Sidoin Apollinarius, warmly maintains, that the word _radat_ has been suppressed from the 44th canon of this council of Carthage, and that the custom of wearing long beards was there precisely ordered. Father Sirmond, who published some time after a commentary on the same epistles, is of the same opinion as Savaron with respect to the suppression of this word _radat_. Charles Dumoulin, in his notes to the 5th chapter of the 1st record of the 3d book of the Decretals, assures us that the text of this canon has been mutilated, and that we ought to read _nec barbam radat_.

Let us see on what authority the opinion of these learned men is founded. The greatest part of the manuscripts of the councils have the word _radat_. Pierrius Valerianus, in his book _pro Sacerdotum Barbis_, quotes several, and those are the least suspected. Father Labbe has added a note to the canon in question, in which he numbers the manuscripts wherein the word _radat_ is found. Father Hardouin assures us that this important _radat_ exists in the most authentic manuscripts, such as those in the libraries of Corbie, Giblou, Barberin, Paris, &c.

From these modern proofs, let us pass to those which antiquity or the contemporaries of this council ought to furnish us with. St. Sidoin Apollinarius says very clearly, speaking of the time of this council of Carthage: _Tum coma brevis & barba prolixa; At that time people wore short hair and long beards._ Tertullian says a great deal about this same council; he maintains that the word _radat_ has been suppressed in the 44th canon; he cries out upon the licentiousness of his age, too fertile in like impositions, and says, in plain terms! _Corrigendum est reponendumque, juxta fidem veterum exemplarium, Clericus nec comam nutriat, nec barbam radat. This canon ought to be corrected, and, conformably to the fidelity of the old copies, it should be written, that no clergyman should wear his hair, or shave his beard._[79] We see what a distance our short cloke clergy keep from this edifying regulation.

Footnote 79:

It may not be amiss perhaps to correct a chronological error that is in the epochs of this council of Carthage and the life of Tertullian. All the commentators and chroniclers place this council in the year 398, and the death of this learned man about the year 220 of our æra. According to them, he should have lived about a century and half before this council. After that, one is greatly surprised to find, in the works of this same Tertullian, his observations on this council of Carthage, and still more so, to find him speak of it as an epoch much earlier than that in which he was writing; for, when he condemns the supression of the word _radat_, he says it ought to be restored conformably to the fidelity of the old copies, _juxta fidem veterum exemplarium, &c._ The anachronism is more than two centuries.

Saint Epiphanius lived in the time of this council of Carthage: this was a very learned Saint. Let us see in his writings if the fathers of those days proclaim the proscription of long beards. With respect to the heretic Massalians he speaks thus. “Is there any thing more contrary to good morals than their customs? They cut off their beards, the mark of manhood, and wear very long hair. Nevertheless, the sacred expressions of the constitutions of the apostles dogmatically prescribe the rules that are to be observed with respect to the beard: it is forbidden to cut off any part of it, for fear lest men should at length get themselves quite shaved, and lay hold of the effeminate manners and luxury of abandoned rakes.”[80]

Footnote 80: