Chapter I: Part 1

POGONOLOGIA

OR A

PHILOSOPHICAL and HISTORICAL

ESSAY

ON

BEARDS.

----------------------------

TRANSLATED from the FRENCH.

-------------------------------------------

L’usage nous dérobe le vrai visage des choses.
MONTAIGNE.

-------------------------------------------

EXETER:
PRINTED BY R. THORN.

AND SOLD BY
T. CADELL, IN THE STRAND,
LONDON.

MDCCLXXXVI.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Mr. B***,

King’s Counsel, Deputy Attorney General

to the Parliament of D***.

My friend,

TO load the beginning of one’s work with pompous titles is an honour that interest solicits and vanity easily grants; but to place the name of one’s friend there, and dedicate the fruit of a few leisure hours to him, is a homage so pure and disinterested, that modesty need not blush at it. Receive then this small testimony of my attachment and esteem, and allow me the pleasing satisfaction of publicly declaring, how much I am,

your friend,

J. A. D***.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

PREFACE.

“WHATEVER concerns the manners and customs of a people, says Rollin, shews their genius and character; and this is what may be called the soul of history.” I am led to think, that a picture of customs, by presenting mankind with objects of comparison at a nearer view, naturally flatters them more, than facts or dates, the multitude or improbability of which fatigues the memory, or shocks the understanding. This is the reason why we prefer the private life of a hero, to the history of his great actions; the one gives us a secret satisfaction in which self-love finds its account: the other produces only astonishment. The hero is too distant from us; we admire him too much to presume to compare with him: ’tis the man we seek; his heart; his very weaknesses. ’Tis with still more eagerness we wish to examine his person; this is the cause of our liking better to see the portraits of great men, than to read their history. We would fain touch the hero with our hand, as one may say, we would wish to enter into competition with him.

The knowledge of customs and ancient fashions forms a branch of literature which is not without its enthusiasts; this is the favourite study of antiquaries. Among the histories of these usages of our ancestors, that of the beard holds a distinguished rank; and though at present, from its little importance, it is become an object of ridicule, it has been held in high consideration in different ages and among different people. Never was there any thing like that caused so many troubles and so much ill blood: the cowls of the disciples of St. Francis never occasioned so much noise.[1] The beard, which has been worn and highly respected at some periods, and despised at others, is become the sport of every witling. This mark of manhood, which was held sacred among the Hebrews and primitive Christians, highly condemned by some popes, and particularly countenanced by others, has been successively considered by the Roman church, as an odious heterodoxy, or the symbol of wisdom and Christian humility. Like objects of great worth, the beard never excited petty quarrels; both its enemies and partisans were violent: these anecdotes, so strange in this age, will not only amuse the reader, but discover the character of the people, the spirit of the times, and the narrowness of the human understanding.

Footnote 1:

During the pontificates of Clement VII. and Paul III. there were long
and warm disputes between the Capuchins and Observantins about cowls,
whether they should be square, round, sharp-pointed, oblong, &c.
Boverius, the annalist of the Capuchins, wrote a geometrical work,
containing eleven demonstrations, in order to fix the real form of the
cowl of St. Francis. Wigs, among the clergy, have likewise caused
terrible disputes. The Sulpicians alone have withstood this fashion
with a laudable resolution. Mr. de Thiers wrote a history of wigs,
which, as well as the history of cowls, evinces the narrowness of the
human mind, and justly exposes it to ridicule. _O curas hominum!_

It must appear a strange paradox, perfectly shocking for crazy old beaus, for priests whose beards are always shaved close, in short, for all those that compose the effeminate part of the human species, to hear any one maintain, that a long beard becomes a man’s dignity, and that it is beneficial to health and good morals; his ideas must be very different from those of the present age. This however is what I have presumed to do. But whether the design of this work be serious or ironical, it has at least the appearance of novelty; and that’s a great deal in this age.

To write an apology for long beards is to recall to men’s minds their ancient dignity, and that superiority of their sex which has been lost in Europe ever since the fabulous days of chivalry. This too is not the way to gain the good opinion of the ladies, seeing that it’s an attempt to diminish their authority; but at the same time it is restoring, in some respects, the sovereign power to the lawful master, and taking it from the usurper: Moliere says:

_Du côté de la barbe est la toute puissance._
Power is on the side of the beard.

This is not very polite; but when a man is determined to speak the truth, it is often very difficult to be so.

To prove clearly that our priests are obliged, not only by reason, but by human and divine laws, to wear a long beard, is an idea that appears to me as singular as new; but to employ methodically the most authentic and most sacred authorities, to display erudition at every moment, and to preserve always an air of gravity, in order to support this argument, might draw on me, from my readers, the reproach of having given too much importance to a subject that does not appear worthy of it. I will freely confess I have been led away by my subject, and that I thought it necessary to assume the tone of inquiry, because most of the proofs which I shall bring to my aid, are of a nature not easy to be reconciled to the spirit of irony. But this inquiry is sometimes enlivened by diverting anecdotes little known; and though my chapter _Of the Beards of Priests_ is longer and more loaded with citations than the rest, I’m of opinion it will not be thought the least curious.

At the conclusion I have laid aside jesting, and this perhaps may be thought the greatest defect; in composing it I found it impossible not to be serious: the gravity of the subject no doubt had an influence on my ideas, and I will not attempt to say any thing in my own defence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

_TABLE of CONTENTS._

CHAP. PAGE

I. _Of Fashion_ 1

II. _Of Bearded Chins_ 11

III. _Of some shaved Chins_ 34

IV. _Of Bearded Women_ 52

V. _That long Beards are 58
salutary_

VI. _Of False Beards_ 66

VII. _Of Golden Beards_ 70

VIII. _Of Whiskers_ 74

IX. _Of the Beards of Priests_ 82

X. _Of the People that wear 131
Beards_

XI. _Conclusion_ 136

------------------------------------------------------------------------

These changes have been applied to this text.

_ERRATA._

Page 1 line 5 For _consider it_, read
_consider them_.

ibid — 10 For _and_, read _or_.

— 41 note {29} For _longuam_, read _longam_.

— 56 — After the Imitation of the
French lines, read

_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.

— 58 — 13 For “the course of her wise
operations _are_ never,”
read “the course of her wise
operations _is_ never.”

— 74 — 13 For _St. Clemet_, read _St.
Clement_.

— 83 — 11 For _weairng_, read _wearing_.

— 87 — 22 ┃

— 88 note {55} ┃For _Tertullion_, read
_Tertullian_.

— 89 line 15 ┃

------------------------------------------------------------------------

--------------------------------------------------

POGONOLOGIA,

Or a Philosophical and Historical

_ESSAY ON BEARDS_.

--------------------------------------------------

CHAP. I.

_Of FASHION._

IF we were well persuaded that most new fashions are invented to hide some secret imperfections of the body, or to satisfy the avidity of shopkeepers, it is most likely we should consider it of less importance; for, if we seek the cause of these changes, we find in general it proceeds from the ingenious ardour of a milliner, the bad shape of some fine lady, the long visage of a second, and the broad foot of a beau parson.

The first woman that ever wore a _fardingale_ wanted to conceal the indiscreet fruit of her gallantry. This sort of hoop, of a cylindrical form, entirely concealed the waist. In a little time all the ladies followed this example; and every fashionable fair-one appeared as if her lover had brought her in the same situation as she that introduced the fashion.

The great large ruffs, which looked like a glory about the people’s necks, in the time of Henry IV.[2] were invented in Spain to hide the hernia gutturis, a very common disorder among the Spaniards. Though the French had not this disorder, they eagerly adopted the new fashion.

It is most likely the fear of being sunburnt, or else that refined coquetry which conceals from public view what it means to raise a desire for, determined the ladies to cover their faces with a mask of black velvet. No lady was seen abroad without her mask. Tradition says nothing of the cause of this fashion; but there is no doubt but ugliness and decrepitness invented another sort of mask, which our old tabbies still continue the use of: this is a plaster of white lead and vermillion, laid on so thick, that it represents much better the ruddy countenance of a drunken sot, than the fine lively complexion of a beautiful damsel.

In the reign of Francis II. a tunbellied Person of high rank turned the heads of all the French. Every body was mad to have, not only a great belly, but likewise a very large false rump. At present, our ladies have not revived the fashion of great bellies; on the contrary, it has been remarked that they have a great dislike to them: but one of them, who had a bad shape, appearing with an enormous rump and hips, all the rest would have false ones; and all the well made women concealed their shape, as the others did their defects.

Footnote 2:

Henry IV. of France was the contemporary of Queen Elizabeth. T.

Geffrey Plantagenet, count of Anjou, one of the most accomplished and handsome men of his time, had the misfortune to have a large excrescence on the tip of his great toe; in order to conceal this imperfection, and walk easy, he had some shoes made with points turned up of a sufficient length not to pinch him. No sooner had he these shoes, than every one was anxious to be like the count. This fashion was so much followed, and had such a run, that the different degrees of rank were known by the length of the points of the shoes. Those of the common people were six inches long, those of citizens a foot; but those of gentlemen, lords, and princes, were never less than two feet; from whence came the French proverb _Etre fur un grand pied_ (to be in easy circumstances). These points to the shoes increased so in length, that it was feared lest they should affect public order and the established religion: sermons were preached and ordinances issued against them; the clergy anathematized them, and Charles V. expressly forbade their being worn.

Thus, every one appeared as if he had an excrescence on the tip of his great toe; so likewise, in most fashions, every one seems desirous of concealing imperfections that he has not.

Fashions have for a long time been considered as of great importance among the French, and their neighbours have often reproached them with it.[3] If a new fashion appear, the whole nation is in an uproar: all are infatuated, mad: every one is in a hurry to have it; the contagion soon reaches all ranks; they seem as if they could never be soon enough more ridiculous than they were the day before. Taste is out of the question; ’tis opinion alone that decides. Were the new fashion ever so silly, not a word would be said against it, because of this sole and powerful reason: _It is what is worn at present._

Footnote 3:

Baptist Mantuan, an Italian and Latin Poet, said of the French:

——_Cito mobile pectus
Cordaque largitus, rerum sitibunda novarum._

Another Italian said, about two centuries ago: _E Natione la Franceze
che mai persiste ne sta ferme in una sorte d’habito, ma lo varie
secondo i caprici. De gli habiti antichi & moderni._

The motive that actuates people to be at the height of the mode, is the vanity of being thought a person of consequence. How many are there who are penetrated with respect at the sight of a fine coat! how many are there who owe all the consideration they have to their outward appearance, and who might justly say: _Ah! my coat, how much I am obliged to you!_ Their whole merit is in their wardrobe; and there is many a Frenchman, who, had he but that to his mind, would envy no one.

One sole form of a coat, let it be ever so elegant, would be insufficient to preserve the veneration of so many stupid asses; their idol must be differently set off every day: without that precaution their admiration would soon be over; this perhaps is what most contributes to keep up the love of novelty among the French. Peter the Great, emperor of Russia, was struck, when at Paris, with this national character; not being much accustomed to see a variety of dresses, he said, on seeing a lord in a different coat every day: _Surely that man is dissatisfied with his tailor._

Why should we not have a dictionary Of Fashions? Surely it would be of as much use as many others. The different denominations which we give them would not be the least entertaining part of the work. Among the names of old hoops we find the _Gourgandine_ (the flirting hoop), the _Boute-en-train_ (the leading-mode hoop), the _Tatez-y_ (the groping hoop), the _Culbute_ (the flying-top-over-tail hoop), &c. Hats and shoes would likewise afford long articles. Then again there would be the great wigs worn in the reign of Lewis XIV.[4] and which so much employed the attention of the courtiers and periwig-makers of that age: not only the head, but half the body was buried under this heap of curls. It was then only the outside of a Frenchman’s head that was ridiculous; now-a-days things are changed.

I would not have forgotten under the word _canon_ the blunder of a German author, who, having translated Moliere’s _Précieuses ridicules_, and intending to bring this piece out at one of the theatres of his nation, was confoundedly puzzled how to explain this word. It never entered his brain that a _canon_ was a piece of muslin worn round the knee. After maturely considering the passage, he resolved that Mascarille should have a brace of pistols in his pocket, which he was to pull out when he asks: _How do you like my canons?_

Footnote 4:

The contemporary of Charles II. of England. T.

The article of ladies’ head-dresses would fill a volume entire: we should find, that, in proportion as they have taken from their heads, they have added to their hips. The enormous hoop and the large high head-dress have alternately succeeded each other; these last have lately sunk under their own weight, if I may be allowed the expression, in order to let the great hips and false rumps be in vogue. The ladies are determined not to lose any of their bulk, so much are they persuaded that their merit is in proportion to the space they occupy in the world.

In one of those revolutions which ladies’ heads have suffered, a lady wrote to her friend as follows.

Many a short beauty complains and grows hot;
And to add to her height, on consulting the stars,
Learns from them that by raising the pattens she wears,
She’ll recover the loss felt by low’ring her top.
So much for the mode
Which (however absurd)
Sets all Paris Ladies in motion,
But the men’s heads are still
The same (if they will)
As they were: not the least variation.[5]

Footnote 5:

Letter from the Lady of Lassay to the Duchess of ——.

Fashion and etiquette are nearly allied; but they must not be confounded: etiquette is as stable as the other is changeable. The motives that produce them are not the same; the one springs from self-love, the other from affectation. Etiquette seems to have been invented by a desire to govern, and fashion by a wish to please. Therefore, the former is much better observed by people of ripe years, and the latter by young ones. If etiquette is lasting and fashion unstable, this definition comprehends probably the sole cause of it.

People change the make and colour of their dress twenty times in a year; fashion may be looked upon as their play thing; but the laws of etiquette return as constantly as the season. Though it is often cold at Whitsunday, taffeties must be put on; and at All-saints day, though it is sometimes very hot, every body puts on satins and velvets, and no one is seen without a muff.

At court, among the great, etiquette reigns despotically; and its power diminishes according to the distance from the centre of sovereignty. The unambitious man, living at his ease on a moderate fortune, has only a sufficient acquaintance with etiquette to turn it into ridicule; while the man who aims at consideration, or any kind of power, submits to its laws, and often sacrifices his reason to it.

There are several states of life in which etiquette gives a consequence to him who follows it. A tradesman, for instance, to appear as he ought, should have his head shaved and wear a round wig; physicians and surgeons too should do the same. Who, in this enlightened age, would put the least confidence in a physician who wears his own hair, were it the finest in the world? A wig, certainly, can’t give him science, but it gives him the appearance, and that is every thing now-a-days.[6]

Footnote 6:

Strip a physician of his wig, gold headed cane, ruffles, and diamond
ring: what will he have left?

Fashion, while it vivifies commerce, encourages luxury. These are the two sides on which it should be politically viewed; it brings together the different conditions of society, which birth or opinion had separated. This is a moral good perhaps; but it confounds ranks, (which common honesty is interested in distinguishing,) by not leaving the smallest difference between a woman of virtue and a frail sister. In days of yore these two conditions so very different were kept distinct by sumptuary laws. In 1420, prostitutes were forbidden, by a sentence of the parliament of Paris, to wear gold girdles, which was the characteristical ornament of good morals. I’m led to think, it would be impossible now-a-days to put such a law into execution, because it is as difficult to distinguish a virtuous woman, by her manner, from a frail sister, as to draw a just line of demarcation between two states.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAP. II.

_Of BEARDED CHINS._

WHEN I take a review of the most respectable relations of antiquity, of those celebrated heroes, and the number of wise and learned men that have made Rome and Greece famous, I feel myself penetrated with that admiration and respect which things sacred inspire; but when I figure to myself the noble aspect of these great men, when I perceive on their venerable faces that air of gravity, that character of virtues, which their long beards express, my imagination catches fire; they no longer appear to me as men, but Gods to whom we should bow down. Such is the marvellous effect which this ornament of manhood has produced in all ages. Even now, that our effeminate customs so justly paint the faculties of our souls, the sight of a long beard still commands respect.[7]

Footnote 7:

At the last procession of Captives, at Paris in 1785, the manly, noble
air of those that wore long beards was greatly admired; nevertheless,
these were slaves.

It has always been esteemed in all nations; those people, to whom nature, too sparing of her favours, has denied this characteristical mark of our sex, the Laplander, the Japonese, and especially the American, whose beardless chins made people doubt a long time if they were men, are sensible of the imperfection of their constitution and temperature of body. The Chinese regard the Europeans as the first people on earth, on account of their thick beards; and though nature has been so sparing to them in this mark of virility, yet they are particularly attentive in cherishing what little they have. Both the Lacedemonians[8] and Egyptians have considered it as a mark of wisdom. In order to obtain a favour among the Greeks, it was only to touch the beard of him that could grant it, to insure success.[9]

Footnote 8:

Nicander replied to some-one who asked him why the Lacedemonians wore
long hair and let their beards grow out: _Because_, said he, _it’s the
finest ornament that a man can wear, and which costs least and becomes
him most_.

PLUTARCH.

Footnote 9:

_Antiquis Græciæ in supplicanda mentum attingere mos erat._

PLIN. lib. ii. cap. 45.

The beard was not solely the mark of philosophy, but became likewise the pledge of the most sacred oaths and promises. It has been sometimes the object of the gravest discussions and most particular attention of a number of learned men; nay, most of the legislators of the world have not thought it beneath their notice.

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:

This anecdote was given me by a friend of the painter’s, who knew him
at the time he wore his oriental dress. He since adopted the French
usage, in order to comply with the ardent solicitations of his wife,
who was a Parisian.

It was likewise through favour of a long beard that a young Frenchman, about ten years ago, preached a new doctrine in Arabia. He assumed the name of _Arphaxad Tinnagelli_: his quality was, that of _disciple of J. J. Rousseau, on a mission in Arabia_. His oriental dress and prophet’s beard concurred particularly to gain him proselytes.[25]

Footnote 25:

Mr. M——, in his journey to India by land, met this enthusiast at
Bassora, the 15th of August, 1770, who asked Mr. Pyrault, the French
consul in that town, for a guide to conduct him through the desert. He
was returning from Surat, where he had resided sometime with Mr.
Anquetil de Briancourt, likewise a French consul. “This Arphaxad
Tinnagelli,” says Mr. M—— in the manuscript account of his journey,
“is a young man of about twenty-eight years of age, of middling
stature, and seems to have the Lorrain accent. He gives himself out
for an Arabian, born at Eliatiff in the gulf of Persia; he has written
a romance, in which he has not shewn a more happy invention, than in
his Arabian name. Notwithstanding his beard and dress, we soon
discovered him to be a Frenchman, which he at length acknowledged.
Having made himself pretty well acquainted with Arabic, he has written
several things in that language, among others, a catechism called
_Tinnagellique_ which begins thus: _Who is God? The truth. Who is his
Prophet? J. J. Rousseau._ It was thought at Bassora,” continues our
traveller, “that he had quitted his pranks entirely; and, on his
promising to return to India and live as he ought, Messieurs Pyrault
and Rousseau (the Persian, cousin to J. James) made him up an European
wardrobe: he came with me as far as Mascata; but I could not get him
any farther, and I left him quite disposed to go and complete his
mission.”

There is nothing more eloquent than outward appearance, especially among a superficial people. Why then do those, who, for the interest of their state or the happiness of their subjects, are under a necessity of commanding respect, neglect such powerful means? The beard presents them with the most simple, most natural, and most persuasive of all. With that mark of manhood our warriors would no longer look like women; we should have venerable old men and priests more reverenced.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAP. III.

_Of some SHAVED CHINS._

IT is a disgrace to man to have the most conspicuous mark of his virility taken off; to pretend that it becomes him to look like a woman, an eunuch, or a child, is the height of folly and ridiculousness. Even if this truth were not constantly supported by the will of nature, the opinion of all the most respectable characters of antiquity should be sufficient to establish it for ever among all nations, and this is what I would fain persuade my countrymen of.

A shaved chin was always a sign of slavery, infamy, or debauchery. Diogenes asked those he saw without beards, if they had not changed their sex, and were dissatisfied at being men. The loss of the beard, among a great many nations, was always accompanied by banishment. All the fathers of the church exclaimed against this shameful abuse, and always regarded a shaved chin as the effect of the vilest licentiousness.

The example of Alexander, no doubt, will be alleged against me, who, before the battle of Ardela, had all his soldiers shaved. I shall answer, that he never shaved himself, but constantly wore this characteristical mark of his valour, and that, if he ordered his soldiers’ faces to be trimmed, it was only, as Plutarch says, for fear the enemy should seize them by the beard.

I know very well too, that Scipio Africanus was the first Roman who daily used a razor, and that this mode was brought from Sicily to Italy by P. Ticinius, who brought with him a troop of barbers. But it is good to know, as Pliny very judiciously remarks, that, of all the nations that then consented to cut off their beards, the Romans were the last that yielded to this effeminate custom.[26] This proves nothing more, than that luxury began to be predominant at Rome, and that luxury perverts every thing. Moreover, these particular cases should be reckoned among transient errors, which, being dissipated, give to truth an additional lustre.

Footnote 26:

_Plin._ Hist. nat. lib. vii, cap. 60.

Let us take a view of a period less remote, which, interesting us more, will shew the value of a beard, the disgrace of a shaved face, and the mischiefs that have been the consequence of it.

In the beginning of the French monarchy, Clotarius II. having a mind to appoint a Governor to his son Dagobert, chose Sadregesile, a man very learned for his time; he loaded him with honours, and created him duke of Aquitaine; and the new duke spared no pains to instruct his pupil; but it seemed the latter no more answered the intention of the king his father, than the lessons of his governor. The wild unruly character of the princes of those times must necessarily have submitted with difficulty to the will of master. Dagobert would not long endure the constraint which the duty of his education laid him under. He considered reprimands as so many outrages. Hatred and vengeance took possession of his proud heart, and soon broke out to attack Sadregesile.