An unusually fine stiletto beard is on the chin of John Endicott (here). It was distinctly a soldier’s beard. Endicott was major-general of the colonial forces and a severe disciplinarian. Shakespere, in _Henry V_, speaks of “a beard of the General’s cut.” It was worn by the Earl of Southampton (see here), and perhaps Endicott favored it on that account. The pique-devant beard or “pick-a-devant beard, O Fine Fashion,” was much worn. A good moderate example may be seen upon Cousin Kilvert, with doublet and band, in the print here. An extreme type was the beard of Robert Greene, the Elizabethan dramatist, “A jolly long red peake like the spire of a steeple, which he wore continually, whereat a man might hang a jewell; it was so sharp and pendent.” Scotch Beard. Scotch Beard. The word “peak” was constantly used for a beard, and also the words “spike” and “spear.” A barber is represented in an old play as asking whether his customer will “have his peak cut short and sharp; or amiable like an inamorato, or broad pendant like a spade; to be terrible like a warrior and a soldado; to have his appendices primed, or his mustachios fostered to turn about his eares like ye branches of a vine.” A broad square-cut beard spreading at the ends like an open fan is the “cathedral beard” of Randle Holme, “so called because grave men of the church did wear it.” It is often seen in portraits. One of these is shown here. Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard. Dr. William Slater. Cathedral Beard. In the _Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas_, 1731, she writes of her grandfather, a Turkey-merchant:— “He was very nice in the Mode of his Age—his Valet being some hours every morning in _Starching_ his _Beard_ and Curling his Whiskers during which Time a Gentleman whom he maintained as Companion always read to him upon some useful subject.” So we may believe they really “starched” their beards, stiffened them with some dressing. Taylor, the “Water Poet” (1640), says of beards:— “Some seem as they were starched stiff and fine Like to the Bristles of some Angry Swine.” Dr. John Dee. 1600. Dr. John Dee. 1600. Dr. Dee’s extraordinary beard I can but regard as an affectation of singularity, assumed doubtless to attract attention, and to be a sign of unusual parts. Aubrey, his friend, calls him “a very handsome man; of very fair, clear, sanguine complexion, with a long beard as white as milke. He was tall and slender. He wore a gowne like an artist’s gowne; with hanging sleeves and a slitt. A mighty good man he was.” The word “artist” then meant artisan; and in this reference means a smock like a workman’s.