Time for a Haircut

The legend of Piast the Wheelwright begins with a visit by strangers who ask to join the celebration of his son's (Siemowit) 7th birthday. A 7th birthday was significant in pre-Christian Poland because it was the time of the child's first haircut.

This early rite of passage was common in Slavic culture. The age of seven was a common age, but it could range from seven to ten. Some scholars believe the child had a temporary name until this time. It was part of the ritual to give the child a new and permanent name, often one more descriptive of his physical appearance or personality.

Part of the significance was the transference of the boy from his mother's to his father's care. Until that time, his hair could be left long like a woman's, and he would be raised in the home. The haircut would be administered by his father or a zerca, a Slavic priest, making it as much a magical turning point as well as a societal one. After the rite of passage, his hair would be burned and he would start following his father and learning non-home-based skills. The ritual was usually accompanied by a celebratory feast. In Poland this persisted until the 18th century.

The ritual haircut is found in other cultures. Mongolian babies had their first haircut between the ages of two and five, with boys receiving the cut in an odd-numbered year (age three or five) and girls in an even-numbered year. Many Orthodox and Hasidic Jewish boys get their first haircut at the age of three, called the upsherin ("shear of").

The Niuean of Polynesia let the hair on boys grow until they are teenagers. Until then, it is cared for by the whole family: sisters, mothers, and fathers. During a ceremony when teen age has been achieved, the women tend the hair for the last time. Then, while it is being cut, the extended family members give money to the young man.

Length of hair has had significance for a long time and in many cultures. The Merovingians prized long hair, associating it with kingship so closely that shearing a rival was one way for a ruler to deprive the rival of the feature required for rule.

Dealing with hair in the Middle Ages was far more widespread than just as a rite of passage for the young. Let's talk more about hair tomorrow.

Long Hair and Kingship

Gregory of Tours mentions, regarding an event in which the body of King Clovis I was exhumed, "Though I did not know who he was, I recognised from the length of the hair that it was Clovis." Elsewhere he refers to theFranks as reges criniti, the "long-haired kings." The post just prior to this tells of a choice offered to a queen to have princes shorn or killed; she chooses killed rather than the shame of princes who are shorn of their locks and therefore denied the chance to some day rule. Gregory tells another anecdote of King Clovis defeating a rival king who betrayed him, Chararic, cutting short the hair of him and his son and confining them in a monastery. When it was later reported to Clovis that the son had remarked to his father that they should grow their hair long again, Clovis had them killed.

Human cultures have developed many ways to indicate social cues, and hair length and style has certainly been one way to distinguish the upper from the lower echelons, but the Merovingians took it to an entirely new level.

We have every reason to believe that the Franks, like the Romans, kept their hair short, so the Merovingian line of royalty would have stood out from the common folk. It was not necessary that the hair had never been cut, just that it was long. Why this was so, we cannot say for certain. Some suggest it is simply a distinction between the Germanic military culture and the Roman religious culture of the various peoples that the Merovingians conquered, but that is too simplistic to be accurate.

When the Merovingian kings began to become lazy, their "Mayors of the Palace" managed their affairs, effectively running the kingdom. The last Merovingian king was Childeric III, whose Mayor of the Palace was Charles Martel, the "Hammer." According to Charlemagne's biographer Einhard, Charles allowed Childeric "to sit on his throne, content with the name of king only, with his long hair and flowing beard, and give the appearance of sovereignty." Eventually, Martel's son, Pepin the Short, took the throne with the backing of Pope Zachary. He had Childeric tonsured and sent with his also-shorn son Theuderic to separate monasteries.

You may recall in the post on Childebert how his brother Chlodomer was killed in battle against Burgundy. A Byzantine historian, Agathias, writes a contemporary account of the battle, giving us a little more on the attitude toward hairstyles in different cultures:

And when he fell, the Burgundians, seeing his hair flowing and abundant, loose down to his back, at once realised that they had killed the enemy leader. For it is the rule for Frankish kings never to be shorn; instead, their hair is never cut from childhood on, and hangs down in abundance on their shoulders. Their front hair, is parted on the forehead and falls down on either side. Their hair is not uncombed and dry and dirty and braided up in a messy knot like that of the Turks and Avars; instead, they anoint it with unguents of different sorts, and carefully comb it. Now this it is their custom to set apart as a distinguishing mark and special prerogative for the royal house. For their subjects have their hair cut all round, and are not permitted to grow it further.

The few seals of Merovingian kings that we have show the long hair, parted in the middle. Hair styles among the common folk might have been varied, but notably long hair was reserved for, and crucial to, the Merovingian royalty.

Now for another of those names I feel I have neglected: Einhard is significant because of his life of Charlemagne, and I'll tell you more next time.

Saint Clotilde and Murder

Clotilde is considered a saint by both the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches. She was an early supporter of St. Geneviève, she built the chapel that later became the Abbey at Chelles, and it was probably her influence that persuaded her husband, Clovis, to return the Vase of Soissons to St. Rémy after one of his soldiers took it post-conquest.

Most details of her life come from Gregory of Tours. She was born about 474 at Lyons, the daughter of King Chilperic II of Burgundy. Chilperic had two brothers, Gundobad and Godomar. At the death of their father, Gondioc, Gondioc's kingdom was divided among the three brothers. Gundobad turned on Godomar, and then on Chilperic, killing his brothers and their families, in order to reunite their father's kingdom under one ruler. Clotilde fled to her uncle, Godegisel.

Clovis and Godegisel joined in war against Gundobad, eventually defeating (but not killing) him; Clovis, King of the Franks, received an annual tribute from Burgundy after that. He also requested Clotilde's hand in marriage; Gundobad was not in a position to refuse.

Clovis I and Clotilde were married in 493. They had four sons (Ingomer, who died shortly after birth; Chlodomer, Childebert I, and ClotharI) and a daughter, Chrotilda. Clotilde insisted on baptism for her children; Clovis, not a Christian, objected, and when Ingomer died soon after birth and baptism, he criticized her. Yet, she persisted, and Chlodomer survived baptism, after which she had less opposition to raising the children in her faith.

Her greatest religious triumph may have been in 496 when Clovis was on the eve of battle with the Alemanni. He prayed to her God that he would be baptized if he were victorious. He prevailed in the Battle of Tolbiac and was baptized by Bishop Remigius of Reims on Christmas Day 496 (he is the St. Rémy in the link above). This Catholicism would aid him and his children in the future, ensuring the political support of the Roman Empire against many of the Franks' foes, who were Arian Christians.

When Clovis died in 523, Clotilde retired to the Abbey of St. Martin at Tours. She did not retire from public influence entirely, however. Even a saint is not immune to the desire for revenge, and the murderer of her father, her uncle Gundobad, was still ruling Burgundy. It is believed that her three sons' attack (and decade-long war) on Burgundy was instigated by her.

Also, her position as queen may have overruled the softer sensibilities one might expect from a mother and one who would later be considered a saint. During the war with Burgundy, her eldest son Chlodomer was killed. His part of the kingdom was to be divided among his three sons, further fracturing the kingdom of the Franks. Childebert and Clothar did not want this, and (the story goes), turned to Clotilde for... "advice." The two sent her two items: scissors and a sword. The implication was clear: the boys could be killed, or they could be shorn. (Long hair was a necessary mark of kingship for this particular culture, as mentioned here.) Supposedly, her reply was "It is better for me to see them dead rather than shorn, if they are not raised to the kingship." (Of course, we have no proof of this, but for these anecdotes to circulate about someone who was generally revered suggests there may be a kernel of truth.)

Clotilde died in 545 and was buried beside Clovis in the Church of the Holy Apostles (which is now the Abbey of St. Geneviève). Veneration of her made her the patron saint of queens, widows, brides, and those in exile.

Now, about that long hair think: how important was it? Let's talk about that tomorrow.