Mr. Leigh Hunt, in “The Indicator,” opposes female indifference to the hair. He says, “Ladies, always delightful, and not the least so in their undress, are apt to deprive themselves of some of their best morning beams by appearing with their hair in papers. We give notice, that essayists, and of course all people of taste, prefer a cap, if there must be any thing; but hair, a million times over. To see grapes in paper-bags is bad enough; but the rich locks of a lady in papers, the roots of the hair twisted up like a drummer’s, and the forehead staring bald instead of being gracefully tendrilled and shadowed!—it is a capital offence,—a defiance to the love and admiration of the other sex,—a provocative to a paper war: and we here accordingly declare the said war on paper, not having any ladies at hand to carry it at once into their headquarters. We must allow at the same time, that they are very shy of being seen in this condition, knowing well enough, how much of their strength, like Sampson’s, lies in that gifted ornament. We have known a whole parlour of them fluttered off, like a dove-cote, at the sight of a friend coming up the garden.”
Of the barber’s art, as it was practised formerly, Mr. Archdeacon Nares gives a curious sample from Lyly, an old dramatist, one of whose characters being a barber, says, “thou knowest I have taught thee the knacking of the hands, the tickling on a man’s haires, like the tuning of a citterne. I instructed thee in the phrases of our eloquent occupation, as, how, sir, will you be trimmed? will you have your beard like a spade or a bodkin? a pent-hous on your upper lip, or an ally on your chin? a low curle on your head like a bull, or dangling locke like a spaniel? your mustachoes sharpe at the ends, like shomakers’ aules, or hanging downe to your mouth like goates flakes? your love-lockes wreathed with a silken twist, or shaggie to fall on your shoulders?”
Barbers’ shops were anciently places of great resort, and the practices observed there were consequently very often the subject of allusions. The cittern, or lute, which hung up for the diversion of the customers, is the foundation of a proverb.[306] The cittern resembled the guitar. In Burton’s “Winter Evening Entertainments,” published in 1687, with several wood-cuts, there is a representation of a barber’s shop, where the person waiting his turn is playing on a lute.[307]
The peculiar mode of snapping the fingers, as a high qualification in a barber, is mentioned by Green, another early writer. “Let not the barber be forgotten: and look that he be an excellent fellow, and one that can snap his fingers with dexterity.” Morose, one of Ben Jonson’s characters in his “Silent Woman,” is a detester of noise, and particularly values a barber who was silent, and did not snap his fingers. “The fellow trims him silently, and hath not the knack with his shears or his fingers: and that continency in a barber he thinks so eminent a virtue, as it has made him chief of his counsel.”[308]
This obsolete practice with barbers is noticed in Stubbe’s “Anatomy of Abuses.” “When they come to washing,” says Stubbe, “oh! how gingerly they behave themselves therein. For then shall your mouth be bossed with the lather, or some that rinseth of the balles, (for they have their sweete balles wherewith all they use to washe,) your eyes closed must be anointed therewith also. Then snap go the fingers, ful bravely, Got wot. Thus this tragedy ended, comes me warme clothes to wipe and dry him withall; next, the eares must be picked, and closed together againe artificially, forsooth,” &c. This citation is given by a correspondent to the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” who adds to it his own observations:—“I am old enough,” he says, “to remember when the operation of shaving, in this kingdom, was almost exclusively performed by the barbers: what I speak of is some three-score years ago, at which time gentlemen-shavers were unknown. Expedition was then a prime quality in a barber, who smeared the lather over his customers’ faces with his hand; for the delicate refinement of the brush had not been introduced. The lathering of the beard being finished, the operator threw off the lather adhering to his hand, by a peculiar jerk of the arm, which caused the joints of the fingers to crack, this being a more expeditious mode of clearing the hand than using a towel for that purpose; and the more audible the crack, the higher the shaver stood in his own opinion, and in that of his fraternity. This then, I presume, is the custom alluded to by Stubbe.”
Mr. J. T. Smith says, “The entertaining and venerable Mr. Thomas Batrich, barber, of Drury-lane, informs me, that before the year 1756, it was a general custom to lather with the hand; but that the French barbers, much about that time, brought in the brush.” He also says, that “A good lather is half the shave,” is a very old remark among the trade.