sexual innuendo of the lines about the pointed stiletto beard betrays the twinkle in the poet’s eye, and it is unlikely that soldiers wore spade beards to suggest a grave. On the other hand, it is true that soldiers were often associated with thick beards. Shakespeare’s character Jaques, in As You Like It , described the typical soldier as “bearded like the pard” (leopard). 32 A writer named Robert Greene, in 1592, also referred to the soldiers’ spade-beard, and suggested a young lover would prefer a short, pointed beard, again alluding to what was in his “sheath.” But Greene also considered the class differences apparent in facial hair. In a witty commentary on the inequalities of his society, he contrasted the lives of two men, the wealthy “Velveteen-breeches” and the commoner “Cloth-breeches.” One of the differences in their lives is in the way the barber treats them. The well-cut pointed beard, carefully shaped spade beard, or curled mustachios were only for the man of means, who could afford to pay for their upkeep. So too were the oils, perfumes, and dyes that placed the wealthy unmistakably above other men. The care that a great beard required must have dissuaded many poorer men from attempting one at all. Cloth-breeches could afford only the basics, namely a plain round cut “like the half of a Holland cheese.” 33
For true believers like a German writing under the pseudonym Johannes Barbatium (“John the Bearded”), who describing himself in 1614 as a “lover of beards,” a full, unstyled beard was the best to be hoped for. He commended the “beautiful words” of the Roman poet Ovid:
Don’t think it ugly that my whole body is covered with thick, bristling hair. A tree is ugly without its leaves, and a horse ugly if a thick manedoes not clothe its sorrel neck; feathers clothe the birds, and their own wool is becoming to sheep; so a beard and shaggy hair on his body well become a man. 34
What mattered to Barbatium was not the beard’s shape but its natural flourish and grandeur. Like other humanists of that era, he viewed the modern growth of hair as a true response to ancient wisdom. Conveniently ignoring evidence of four hundred years of shaving in classical times, and the fact that Ovid’s praise for beards represented the boast of the hairy, one-eyed monster, Cyclops, he declared that all ancients had agreed that beards were nature’s way of affirming the dignity of natural manliness.
8
BEARDS OF THE ROMANTIC IMAGINATION
The French Revolution stirred great hopes and fears throughout Europe. The hope was for a new birth of liberty and equality. The fear was the specter of political violence and war unleashed by revolutionary fervor. Many wondered what good could come of revolution if reason were crushed by the horrors of the guillotine. In the face of this grave obstacle, young and fervent romantics throughout Europe dreamed of a new spirit of sensitivity, intuition, and heroism that would quell disorder, foster unity, and achieve true liberty. Many hoped that Napoleon Bonaparte might be the man to secure these dreams, a man of genius able to keep both retrograde royalty and revolutionary terror at bay. Among Napoleon’s many early admirers was the German composer Ludwig van Beethoven, who dedicated his passionate and groundbreaking Third Symphony to him. Soon after history’s first romantic composer dedicated history’s first romantic symphony to Europe’s first romantic political hero, Bonaparte betrayed Beethoven’s aspirations, quashing the fledgling French Republic, declaring himself emperor, and embarking on a campaign of imperial conquest. The frustrated composer tore up his symphony’s title page and removed his dedication. It was painfully clear to him that Europe had not yet found its liberating hero, and that his soaring symphony would call to mind the unfulfilled hopes of a romantic generation.
A few years after Beethoven’s disillusionment, Germany, Austria,