A Disease Fit for Royalty
In the grim landscape of medieval Europe, where medical knowledge was scarce and disfiguring illnesses ran rampant, few ailments struck fear into the hearts of commoners like scrofula. Known ominously as the “King’s Evil,” this grotesque condition—marked by swollen, ulcerating lymph nodes in the neck—was believed to have one miraculous cure: the touch of a monarch.
Originating in the 11th century, the ritual of royal healing became a cornerstone of monarchical legitimacy in England and France. Kings like Edward the Confessor (1003–1066) and Philip I of France (1052–1108) performed public ceremonies where they laid hands on afflicted subjects, supposedly curing them through divine right. This practice, blending medicine, mysticism, and political theater, endured for centuries before collapsing under the weight of Enlightenment skepticism.
The Theater of Healing: Rituals and Royal Coins
The ceremony itself was a spectacle of power. Samuel Pepys, the famed diarist, described Charles II’s 1660 ritual: patients knelt as the king grazed their sores with his fingertips while a clergyman intoned, “He put his hands upon them, and healed them.” But the real draw? A “touch piece”—a gold Angel coin stamped with the archangel Michael. These tokens, first minted in 1465, were worn as talismans, believed to carry residual healing magic.
For medieval peasants, the ritual offered more than hope—it was a rare brush with the divine authority of kingship. The placebo effect likely played a role, as scrofula sometimes resolved spontaneously. Yet the monarchy’s gamble was audacious: if a king ever developed the disease himself, the PR disaster could undermine his divine mandate. Remarkably, no records suggest this ever occurred.
Shakespeare, Legitimacy, and the “True King”
The King’s Touch even found its way into Macbeth. In Act IV, a doctor praises Edward the Confessor’s healing powers, contrasting him with the usurper Macbeth. Shakespeare’s audience would have recognized the subtext: only a legitimate king could cure scrofula. This belief fortified dynastic rule for 700 years in England and 800 in France, with monarchs like Louis XIV of France performing mass healings—1,600 patients in a single Easter ceremony.
Desperate Measures: Kings and Crisis
The ritual’s popularity surged during political turmoil. After his father’s execution and his own exile, Charles II performed a staggering 92,000 healings over 25 years—a blatant bid to reinforce his fragile legitimacy. Similarly, France’s Louis XV touched 2,400 patients in one sitting, despite growing public skepticism.
The People’s Alternatives: Horses, Charlatans, and Dead Saints
For those far from royal courts, alternatives emerged. A Scottish horse allegedly licked scrofula sores away, while Irish “stroker” Valentine Greatrakes (a self-proclaimed healer) built a fortune mimicking the ritual. In France, devotees flocked to the tomb of Saint Louis IX, hoping his decayed arm might still hold curative power.
The End of an Era: Science Topples Superstition
By the 18th century, the ritual crumbled under Enlightenment scrutiny. Voltaire mocked Louis XIV’s mistress, who died of scrofula despite royal touch. In England, Protestant monarchs like William III rejected the practice outright, quipping to one petitioner: “God give you better health and better sense.” The last British healing? A toddler named Samuel Johnson—future lexicographer—touched by Queen Anne in 1712. France’s Charles X performed the final ceremony in 1825, six years before monarchy itself fell.
Legacy: From Divine Right to Medical Myth
Today, the King’s Touch endures as a curious footnote—a reminder of how medicine, power, and faith once intertwined. While modern science dismisses it as superstition, the ritual’s 800-year reign reveals a deeper truth: in desperate times, people will believe in miracles, especially when kings are selling them.
Would William revive the tradition? Unlikely. But for history buffs, the idea of a 21st-century monarch diagnosing neck lumps remains deliciously absurd.