One day when king Clotarius was a hunting, young Dagobert invited his governor to dinner. The prince, feigning during the repast, to act without ceremony, (say the chronicles of France,) presented him the cup to drink, with three. This was a snare which the duke of Aquitaine never dreamed of. He received the cup with a confident air: and this was a crime. And he, who was deserving of punishment, took it from his hand, not as it ought to be taken from a person of great consequence, but as it is customary to take it from an equal. The author of these same chronicles, who was not a contemporary however, does not fail, as may be perceived, to condemn Sadregesile, for having accepted the cup, and to justify Dagobert who had presented it to him with three. Without doubt he did not observe, in receiving it, all the ceremony which the etiquette of the court in those days required. This slight want of respect, or rather this liberty, was made a pretext by Dagobert for revenge. After having called Sadregesile all manner of names, and had him beaten by his servants, the young prince, hurried away by his rage, without regarding the age of his governor, or the authority with which he was invested, not even his title of duke of Aquitaine, rushed upon him and cut off his beard with his knife. Some other chronicles which relate the same affair, add likewise this bad treatment. Prince Dagobert took him by the beard, and with his knife, which he held in his hand, cut it so close, that he cut off a piece of his chin with it.
The two authors, who agree in relating the same affair, were well persuaded, that the abuse and the blows, which the duke of Aquitaine received, hurt his feelings much less than the loss of his beard. This is the reason of their laying more stress on the latter. In those days, says one of them, it was the greatest affront and disgrace a man could receive, to have his beard cut off.
Clotarius, on his return from hunting, was far from applauding his son’s conduct. The king was greatly enraged. The young Dagobert, to avoid the just indignation of his father, fled for refuge to the chapel of the Martyrs, now called the church of St. Denis. In vain did the king send serjeants to take him from thence: the writers, who relate this affair, assert that God worked a miracle in favour of this young rebel; they say, that all the men the king sent were stopped on the road by a divine power. Be that as it may, this miracle had no effect on Clotarius; for he never pardoned his son’s cutting off the beard of his governor. The king was so enraged, say the same chronicles, that he never forgave this offence.
It should be observed, that what was at the same time a mark of infamy, became, in other circumstances, the seal of confidence and fidelity. When a sovereign took a vassal or an ally under his protection, he cut off his beard. This was a sort of adoption which conferred on the person the title of son. The nobles of Spoleta voluntarily submitted to this usage, after they had refused to succour Didier against Charlemain; they set out immediately for Rome, and came and put themselves under the protection of the pope; and as a proof of their constant fidelity, they left their beards in his holiness’s hands.
This ceremony was looked upon as sacred by the contracting parties; and when any one had promised to adopt another and to cut off his beard, the greatest rascal breathing would be afraid to break his word, and what happened to Tasson, duke of Frejus, is a proof of it. Gregory, patrician of the Romans, being desirous to discharge a sum which he was obliged to pay the dukes of Frejus, drew the young Tasson to Oderzo, a town on the borders of Trevisannah, under the specious pretext of adopting him for his son by cutting off his beard. Tasson came without suspicion; but he was no sooner entered the town with his retinue, than Gregory ordered the gates to be shut, and immediately sent soldiers to attack him. Tasson, accompanied by his little troop, defended himself with great courage, and killed a great many Romans; but at length he was overcome by number. Then the traitor, Gregory, ordered the head of the young duke to be brought him; and, to prevent his appearing to have broken his oath, he cut off his beard, as he had promised.[[27]]
[27]. Pauli Warnefridi Longobardi filii, Diaconi Forojulliensis, de gestis Longobardorum. Lib. vi. cap. 11.
The same usage had been observed a long time before; but, in the ceremony, touching the beard, instead of cutting it off, was thought sufficient. It was then held in higher respect. Clovis, king of France, sent deputies to Alaric, king of the Goths, to treat with him, and entreat the favour of him to come and touch his beard, and at the same time to adopt him as his son.[[28]]
[28]. Aimonius, Fragment. de Clod. & Alar. Regibus.
The beard has met with its tyrants; the Latin church furnishes a great number. Charlemain deserved this title when he absolutely refused to let the Beneventians have Grimoald for duke, unless he obliged the Lombards to shave.[[29]] But no sooner was this same Charlemain emperor of the West, than he adopted the Roman beard.[[30]] Circumstances change every thing.
[29]. Paul Diacre says, the Lombards derive their name from the length of their beard. He adds, that, according to the idiom of the country, lang signifies longam, and baert barbam. Lib. i. cap. 9.