Part 3

The Greeks in general continued to wear the Beard till the decay of Athenian virtue brought that free state into subjection to the Macedonian Conqueror, who, according to Plutarch, ordered his soldiers to shave, lest their Beards should afford a handle to their enemies. This must have been when he was in one of his drunken fits, or he might have had them trimmed like the old Greek warriors.[10] Be that as it may, Greek freedom and Greek Beards expired together.

Footnote 10:

That the Beard, however, sometimes afforded a handle to an enemy in ancient times, when swords, especially the Greek, were very short, is admitted. And I possess an engraving from one of Raphael’s Vatican Cartoons, where one soldier is represented in the act of cutting down another whom he has seized by the Beard. He must be a poor master of his weapon, however, who in modern times would allow a man to grasp his Beard without being hewn down or run through in the process.

Diogenes, cotemporary with Alexander, once asked a smooth-chinned voluptuary whether he quarrelled with nature for making him a man instead of a woman? And Phocion rebuking one who courted the people and affected a long Spartan Beard, said to him, “if thou needs must flatter, why didst thou not clip thy Beard?”

It is a curious fact for those who resolve civilization into shaving, that the only parties in ancient Greece who retained their Beards under all changes were the Philosophers, or lovers of wisdom—they with whom all that distinguished Greek intellect was a special study and profession; who were in fact the most civilized portion of the community.

From the time of the Emperor Justinian the Greeks resumed the Beard, which was worn by all the Greek Emperors down to the last, the unfortunate Paleologus, who died fighting bravely at the taking of Constantinople by the Turks. It was by these Emperors regarded as an ensign of royalty—an attribute of kingly majesty.

ETRUSCANS—ROMANS.

The Etruscans represented their gods with Beards, and wore them themselves; as did the Romans. Every schoolboy recollects the awe inspired to the invading Gauls when, on entering the Senate-house, they saw the conscript Fathers sitting calm and immovable as the gods, for which the Barbarians at first view took them, till one bolder than the rest plucked at the Beard of the noble Marcus Papirius, who by indignantly raising his staff, unconsciously gave the signal for the murder of himself, and his venerable compatriots.

During all the best ages of the Republic, while the old Roman virtue retained something of its original vigour, and before it had been sapped and undermined by the imported vices and effeminate customs of conquered nations, Rome’s statesmen, heroes, priests and people all wore, and all reverenced, the virile glories of the Beard!

It was not till the year of Rome 454, about three centuries before our era, that one of those corrupt Prætors, who usually returned laden with foreign gold, and pampered with foreign luxury, imported a stock of Barbers from Sicily; and that credulous gossip Pliny libels the younger Scipio Africanus by stating—calumnious on dit!—“that he was the first who shaved his whole Beard.” This is just one of those instances where a foolish custom, like a bad piece of wit, is sought to be fathered on some world-renowned name.

Long after the above date, the Beard was only partially shaved or trimmed; and the same word (tondere) is sometimes used to mean either. Of course when once the fashion had set in, it was, as with us, considered unbecoming to wear a Beard; and Marcus Livius on his return from banishment, was compelled by the Censors to shave, before appearing in the Senate.

With the increasing growth of vice and effeminacy among this once hardy race, the decreasing Beard kept pace.[11] Cæsar, the real founder of the empire, by whom every kind of foppery and debauchery was indulged in as a mask to deep schemes of ambition, of course shaved;[12] and having done so, shaving continued to be the imperial fashion down to the time of Hadrian, (whose bold Roman head I exhibited, as the first restorer of manly beauty.) From his time most of the Emperors[13] wore it till Constantine, who shaved out of superstition. His father had a noble Beard.

Footnote 11:

Suetonius says, “he was excessively nice about his body, that he was not only sheered and shaved, but plucked.”

Footnote 12:

Besides shaving, the Romans as they progressed in luxurious effeminacy, used depilatories, tweezers and all sorts of contrivances to make themselves as little like men and as much like women as possible; and their satirists abound with passages impossible to quote with decency on the causes and consequences of this abrogation of the distinctive peculiarities of the two sexes.

Footnote 13:

Pagenstecher says, “one of the Emperors of Rome refused to admit to an audience certain Ambassadors of the Veneti, because they had no Beards.”

Even after the custom of shaving was introduced, the first appearance of the Beard was hailed with joy, and usually about the time of assuming the toga; the “first fruits” of hair were solemnly consecrated—relict of previous respect—to some god, as in the case of Nero,[14] who presented his in a golden box, set with jewels, to the Capitoline Jupiter.[15]

Footnote 14:

The branch of the Roman family to which Nero belonged was called Enobarbus, copper-coloured or red Beard; and the legend of the family was, that the Dioscuri announced to one of their ancestors a victory, and to confirm the truth of what was said, stroked his black hair and Beard, and turned them red. Cn. Domitius, who was Censor with L. Crassus the orator, “took” says Pagenstecher, “too much pride in his,” and Crassus fired away the following epigram upon it. “Quid mirum si barbam habet aeneam Domitius cum et os ferreum et cor habet plumbeum.” (Where’s the wonder Domitius has a brazen Beard, when he has bones of iron and a heart of lead.) Shakspeare (the _unlearned_!) who never loses a characteristic, makes his Enobarbus, (who was great grandfather of Nero, wore a Beard, as seen on his medals, and was a fine bold warrior,) speak thus of Antony, under the fascination of Cleopatra:—

LEP. “Good Enobarbus, ’Tis a worthy deed, And shall become you well, to entreat your Captain To soft and gentle speech.”

ENOB. “I shall entreat him To answer like himself: if Cæsar move him, Let Antony look over Cæsar’s head, And speak as loud as Mars. _By Jupiter, Were I the wearer of Antonius’ Beard, I would not shave’t to-day._”

This passage evidently associates the Beard with manly determination, and shaving with the want of it, for subsequently Enobarbus speaks of Antony’s effeminacy in these words:—

“Our courteous Antony, Whom ne’er the word of No woman heard speak, _Being barber’d ten times o’er_, goes to the feast, And for his ordinary pays his heart For what his eyes eat only.”

Footnote 15:

Arcite in Chaucer’s Knight’s Tale thus devotes his Beard to Mars:—

“And eke to this avow I wol me bind, My Berd, my here that hangeth low adoun, That never yet felt non offensioun Of rasour, ne of shere, I wol thee yeve.”

Shaving in token of grief was the custom of the early Romans; when, however, that which had been considered a deprivation became a general fashion, the Beard was allowed to grow in time of sorrow, to denote personal neglect.

The Roman Philosophers, like the Greek, cherished a long Beard as the emblem of wisdom. The following anecdote shews that it was sometimes a fallacious sign. One of the Emperors being pestered by a man in a long robe and Beard, asked him what he was. “Do you not see that I am a philosopher?” was the reply. “The cloak I see, and the Beard I see,” said the Emperor, “but the philosopher, where is he?”

I must not conclude this notice of Roman customs without mentioning the instructive fact, that the slaves of the early Romans were shaved as a mark of servitude, and not allowed to wear the distinctive sign of a free man until emancipated. At a later period the slaves, as the most manly, wore the Beard, and only shaved when entitled to be put on a level with their debased and vicious masters!

ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY.

A BRIEF glance at Ecclesiastical History will furnish one or two interesting matters. Most of the Fathers of the Church both wore and approved of the Beard. Clement, of Alexandria, says, “nature adorned man like the lion, with a Beard, as the index of strength and empire.” Lactantius, Theodoret, St. Augustine, and St. Cyprian, are all eloquent in praise of this natural feature: about which many discussions were raised in the early ages of the Church, when matters of discipline necessarily engaged much of the attention of its leaders. To settle these disputes, at the 4th Council of Carthage, held A.D. 252, canon 44, it was enacted “that a clergyman shall _not cherish his hair nor shave his Beard_.” (Clericus nec comam nutriat nec barbam radat.) And Bingham quotes an early letter, in which it is said of one who from a layman had become a clergyman, “his habit, gait, modesty, countenance, and discourse, were all _religious_, and _agreeably to these his hair was short and his Beard long_;” shewing that in those early times St. Paul was better understood than at a later date.

Subsequently the Beard was alternately commended to the clergy for its becoming gravity, or condemned from the ascetic notion that pride was apt to lurk in a fine Beard. In some of the monasteries lay members wore the Beard, while those in orders were shaved, and the hairs, remnant of an earlier superstition, devoutly consecrated to God with special prayers and imposing ceremonies.

One order of the Cistercians were specially allowed to wear their Beards, and were hence called “fratres barbati” or Bearded brethren.

The military orders of the Church, as the Knights of St. John and the Templars, were always full Bearded.

To touch the Beard, was at one time a solemnity by which a godfather acknowledged the child of his adoption.

One of the fertile sources of dispute between the Roman and Greek Churches has been this subject of wearing or not wearing the Beard. The Greek Church, with a firm faithfulness which does credit to its orthodoxy, has stood manfully by the early Church decisions and refused to admit any shaven saint into its calendar, heartily despising the Romish Church for its weakness in this respect. On the other hand, the Popes, to mark the distinction between Eastern and Western christianity, early introduced statutes “de radendis barbis,” or concerning shaving the Beard. Here and there, however, a manly old fellow, like Pope Julius II, who made Michael Angelo sculpture him with a drawn sword in his hand, or a Cardinal, like Pole or Allen, and many Bishops, managed to believe that faith and nature might be reconciled by taking a comprehensive and truly Catholic view of both.

The leading English and German Reformers wore their Beards; (if Luther confined himself to a moustache, it was because his Monkish habit of shaving was too strong for him,) and most of the Martyrs to the Protestant Faith were burnt in their Beards.

MODERN HISTORY.

BRITONS.

THE Britons “like their neighbours the Gauls”[16] (two of whose heads were shewn copied from Roman monuments,) were Bearded, though, probably, for some purpose of distinction, their Chiefs, as stated by Cæsar and others, had merely an enormous twisted moustache. The Druids and their successors, the native British Clergy, regarded this natural covering as adding to their dignity and gracing their office and their age.[17]

Footnote 16:

The Goths and Dacians, as seen on the Roman monuments, were Bearded; and the ancient Hungarians, Raumer states, wore long Beards adorned with gold and jewels. The Catti also were accustomed not to trim the hair of the head or Beard till they had proved their manliness by slaying an enemy in battle.

Footnote 17:

One of the Legends of King Arthur mentions a giant who made “a great exhibition of domestic manufacture,” consisting of a “cloak fringed with the Beards of kings.”

SAXONS.

The Anglo-Saxons brought their Beards with them which they preferred of the forked shape, and this again might be either two-pronged, or three-pronged, or plutonian and neptunian.

St. Augustine is figured with his Beard on his appearance to convert these Islands in the sixth century. His followers must soon have shaved, because a writer of the seventh century, complains that “the Clergy had grown so corrupt as to be distinguished from the Laity less by their actions than by their want of Beards.” The illustrious Alfred was so careful of the Beards of his subjects, that he inflicted the then heavy fine of twenty shillings on any one maliciously injuring the Beard of another. The Danes who invaded this country were Bearded. Fosbrooke says, some of them wore Beards with six forks, and history mentions Sueno the fork-beard.[18]

Footnote 18:

Many princes have borne the title of Bearded—as the Greek Emperor Constantine Pogonatus, Count Godfrey, the Emperor Barbarossa, and Eberhard Duke of Wirtemberg in the reign of Maximilian, whose wisdom might truly be said to have grown with his Beard, and on whom the following verse was made:—

“Hic situs est cui _barba_ dedit cognomina Princeps, Princeps Teutonici gloria magna soli.” (Here is a Prince whose Beard gave his surname, A Prince the glory of the land Almayne.)

During this period, the French monarchy was growing. Its first kings held the Beard as sacred, and ornamented it with gold. Their subjects were proud of it as marking them out to be free men in contradistinction to the degenerate Roman population. Alaric touched the Beard of Clovis as a solemn mode of confirming a treaty, and acknowledging Clovis as his godfather. The Merovingian Dynasty were Bearded. Then came Charlemagne who swore by his Beard, as did Otho the Great and Barbarossa, Emperors of Germany, after him. The following story shows the faith of those early times in the sacredness of this form of adjuration. A peasant, who had sworn a false oath on the relics of two holy Martyrs, having taken hold of his Beard, as further confirmation, heaven to punish him, caused the whole to come off in his hand!

Charlemagne also enacted that any one who should call another red beard or red-fox, should pay a heavy fine; a law explained by a prejudice embodied in two German proverbs.[19]

Footnote 19:

Rothbart nie gut wart Rothbart Schelmen art.

Of red beard no good heard Red beard—a knave to be feared;

and carried to its climax in the anecdote of a Spanish nobleman, who, having accused a man of some crime, and the latter being proved innocent, exclaimed, “if he did not do it he was plotting it, for the rascal has a red beard!” Those who need consolation under this calumny, traceable probably to an old notion, derived from his name, that Judas Iscariot had a red beard, I am fortunately able to refer to a sermon[20] on that Arch-Traitor, full of wit, humor, pathos, and imagination, by the celebrated Abraham St. Clara, where red beards are nobly vindicated, and the following noted instances cited:—

Footnote 20:

Judas der Ertz. Schelm.

Several illustrious Romans, The Emperor Barbarossa; Hanquinus Rufus, King of the Goths; Bishops Gaudentius and Gandulfius; The Martyrs Dominicus, Maurinus, and Savinianus.

During the distractions to which Charlemagne’s empire was subject after his decease, the Northmen appeared, and a band, under Rollo, having been converted and settled in what is now Normandy, became known in English History as the Normans; with whom an increasing intimacy having sprung up in the reign of Edward the Confessor, (whose head was shewn from the Bayeux tapestry,) a Norman party was gradually formed at court and Norman customs, one of which was shaving, partially adopted. Harold, as representative of the real old English party, wore his Beard as shown by a cotemporary MSS. illuminator; but William the Conqueror, and most of his followers, are figured only with a moustache and their back hair close cropped or shaven. It was this _barbarous_ fashion that induced Harold’s spies to report to their master that the invaders were an army of Priests.

William is said to have attempted to compel the sturdy Saxons to shave, but many of them left the kingdom rather than part with their Beards. In this, as in other matters, Anglo-Saxon firmness ultimately conquered the conquerors, and the Norman sovereigns gave in to the national custom. As early as Henry I, that is _only 44 years from William’s landing_, we learn that Bishop Serlo met that monarch on his arrival in Normandy, and made a long harangue on the enormities of the times, especially long hair and bushy Beards, which he said they would not clip, lest the stumps should wound the ladies’ faces. Henry, with repentant obedience, submitted his hairy honors to the Bishop, who with pious zeal, taking a pair of shears from his trunk, trimmed king and nobles with his own hand. This conduct of the Bishop is curiously illustrated by a cotemporary decree of the Senate of Venice, of the year 1102, commanding all long Beards to be cut off in consequence of a Bull of Pope Paschal II, denouncing the vanity of long hair, founded on a misinterpretation of 1st Corinthians, xii, 14,[21] which applies only to the hair of the head. On this text a sermon might be written though scarcely preached, which would “a tale unfold, would harrow up the soul.”[22]

Footnote 21:

A writer in Dickens’ Household Words says Pope Anacletus, (query 1st or 2nd) was the first who introduced the custom of shaving.

Footnote 22:

In this and in other places I am obliged to leave under a veil of obscure allusion, arguments of thrilling force, not only from ancient but from our own history: matters not to be met with in ordinary histories; but too abundant in the pages of satirists and moralists, who were hardy enough to lash the prevalent follies and vices of the times in which they lived.

The stout king Stephen wore his Beard, and a Saxon chronicler complains that in the civil wars of his time, in order to extort the wealth of peaceable people, they were “hung up by their Beards;” a proof the latter were long and strong. Stephen’s cotemporary, Frederick the 1st of Germany, to prevent quarrelling, laid a very heavy fine on any one who pulled another’s Beard.

Henry II, is said to have had a vision in which all classes of his subjects reproached him in his sleep for his tyranny and oppression. A cotemporary MSS. illuminator, having fortunately designed several cartoons, really much more expressive than some in the New Houses of Parliament, from which we learn that the faces of all classes of the people and of the Clergy then appeared as nature made them, I selected one, representing the leaders of the distressed agriculturalists of that remote period, because while it illustrated my subject, it seemed to possess great interest for that patient and much enduring class. One could almost imagine the stout fellow with the one-sided Saxon spade, to be urging on the heroes with the pitchfork and scythe, nearly in the words of Marmion,

“Charge, Sibthorp,[23] charge! On, Stanley, on!”

Footnote 23:

I trust my honest and uncompromising brother Beard will pardon the liberty I have taken with his name. No one can be a more sincere admirer than myself of the manly way in which he maintains his opinions on all occasions, and the humorous kindness of disposition which renders him beloved in private and in public. I should always esteem him as a public man, were it only for his long and single-handed fight against that economical iniquity—that suicidal tax on prudence and foresight, and bounty on improvidence—the Fire Insurance Duty!

Henry’s Queen Eleanor had been previously the wife of Louis VII, of France, who having been persuaded by his Priests to shave off his Beard, so disgusted Eleanor that she obtained a divorce.[24]

Footnote 24:

“She had,” says D’Israeli, “for her marriage dower the rich province of Poitou and Guyenne; and this was the origin of those wars which for 300 years ravaged France, and cost the French three million of men. All which probably had never occurred had Louis VII not been so rash as to crop his head and shave his Beard, by which he became so disgustful in the eyes of our Queen Eleanor.”

Richard the Lion-hearted was Bearded like a lion, and though he was so absorbed in the Crusades that he did not redress, yet he acknowledged the justice of the complaints of the celebrated Longbeard, “Earl of London and King of the Poor,” who did honor to his Beard by resisting oppression, and perished, after an heroic struggle, the victim of cowardice and treachery. The monuments of Roger, Bishop of Sarum, and Andrew, Abbot of Peterborough, shew that Bishops wore the Beard, and Abbots and Monks shaved in this reign.

John had what was called “a Judas’ Beard,” of which his actions were every way worthy. Fortunately, the bold Barons outbearded him, and Magna Charta was the result. His son, Henry III, had a moderate Beard, and the longest reign till George III. Edward I, shewed the Scots what a long Beard could do with long shanks, and a long head to back it.[25] This king has been called the English Justinian, both he and the Roman Emperor being noted for improving the laws, and cherishing their Beards. Edward the 2nd’s Beard, like his character, was more ornamental than strong, and his reign is chiefly memorable for the composition of that favorite old song quoted by Shakspeare, “’Tis merry in hall, when Beards wag all!”

Footnote 25:

No true Scotchman would pardon me if I omitted to note that the brave Wallace had “a most brave Beard.”

Edward the 3rd’s bold Beard spread terror in Scotland and France, and that of his son, the Black Prince—young as he died—was an apt type of his “prowess in the tented field.”

Richard the 2nd, with all his faults, was neither deficient in Beard nor in courage—the latter shewn in his meeting with Wat Tyler, and his defence against his assassins. Henry IV, the crafty Bolingbroke, had a chin cover, in whose every curl lurked an intrigue, of which his son, Henry V, who was made of other metal, was so ashamed, we presume, that he wore in penitence a shaven chin throughout his ten years’ reign, as may be seen by his monument in Westminster Abbey, the remains of which still exist.

Shaving continued partially in fashion in Henry the 6th’s reign, who himself in later life was Bearded like a Philosopher, accustomed to moralize over the ups and downs of life, of which he had no common share. Edward the 4th shaved out of foppery; as did that smooth-faced rascal, Richard III, who “could smile and smile and be a villain.” Henry the 7th shaved himself and fleeced his people.