Hello, HG readers. I’ve been reading Liza
Picard’s juicy social history of Restoration London. It is GRIPPING! Until now, I had only a hazy overview of the
period, acquired during an undergraduate course on Restoration and Eighteenth
Century literature. I loved the course but apart from a few gossipy snippets
about Aphra Behn and the Earl of Rochester, I’d shed most of the details.
So when I ran across the phrase “the King’s
Evil” in Picard’s book, I tripped over it. The what? “The King’s Evil” is
another name for scrofula, a swelling of the lymph nodes in the neck. It’s
often associated with tuberculosis. Apparently, the swelling itself is not
painful but it is disfiguring and is further associated with fever, chills, and
weight loss.
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image via wikipedia |
That’s interesting enough, but what has it
to do with the king? Apparently, in both France and England, monarchs held
ceremonies in which they laid healing hands on those suffering from scrofula.
This was called “the royal touch”. It was both a demonstration of their paternal
care for the people and an affirmation of their divine right to rule. The
ceremonies included prayer and sometimes the gift of a gold coin or ribbon to
the sufferer, a talisman of the king’s power.
Here’s an image of Charles II, England’s
most enthusiastic practitioner of the royal touch. (This makes perfect sense:
Charles II had a lot to prove, as a freshly restored king.) According to
Picard, he held weekly ceremonies, kept up the practice when he travelled
outside London, and touched about 4500 petitioners in each year of his reign!
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Charles II, administering the royal touch |
The last English monarch to practise the
royal touch was Queen Anne. Her most famous “patient” was the young Samuel
Johnson, who contracted scrofula as an infant. His family took him to St
James’s Palace in March 1712, when he was two years old. Queen Anne took her healing
duty seriously, usually fasting the day before the ceremony.
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Predictably (to us), Queen Anne’s touched
failed to cure Johnson. He later endured surgery that left him with permanent
scars on his face and body.
To our minds, it might seem strange that so
many people clamoured for the royal touch. There is a medical reason: scrofula is
rarely fatal and often goes into remission on its own. If one’s remission
coincides with the king’s touch, one has anecdotal proof that the royal hands
can heal. If it doesn’t, one can always try the king again.
Beyond this, I’m fascinated by the royal
touch because it’s a vivid reminder of how slowly popular beliefs change. By
1660, we’re well out of the Medieval era. Literary scholars would say that the “Early
Modern” period is past, leaving us (presumably) in the modern world. Yet many traces
of the Renaissance belief in magic remain. It’s a time when confusing things can
be explained by mystery and miracle. The English people believe in astrology,
witchcraft, divination – and the healing touch of a divinely appointed king.