Least of all is it to be supposed that this practice should be dropt or neglected afterwards, on the restoration of the York line, in the person of Edward IV, who would naturally take care to exercise every prerogative or power supposed to have belonged to his ancestors, and which had any way contributed to their popularity, consequence, or celebrity. This monarch, though of a far less religious or devout cast than his immediate predecessor Henry VI. might not on that account be the less qualified to work these miracles, any more than Charles II. afterwards; who, though by his clerical subjects denominated most religious, was yet certainly, in fact, one of the most irreligious and profligate wretches that ever wore a crown: nevertheless he unquestionably practiced the royal touch, as extensively, effectually, and successfully as any one whatever in the whole list of our crowned, or kingly practitioners. And why not?—as the extraordinary gift, supernatural virtue, or miraculous power, belonged entirely, it seems, to his regal quality or dignity; [303] and had nothing at all, apparently, to do with his personal or moral character.
Richard III. also, after he ascended the throne, may be supposed to possess as much of this supernatural and sanative virtue (whatever may be said of the other virtues) as any one of his predecessors or successors; and as it was evidently his interest to omit no popular observance, and to avail himself of whatever had a tendency to excite or gain the admiration of the people, and reconcile them to his government, we may be sure he would not fail to follow, with spirit, the practice in question; and so, by a copious display of its sanative virtue, compensate, in some sort, or degree, for the absence of virtues of another description. There is therefore abundant reason for setting him down among our royal miracle-workers.
None of all these princes appear to have made a greater figure, or to have proceeded with more parade, solemnity, and success, in this royal business or occupation, than Henry VII.—This politic prince, whatever right he might have to the crown, had probably as good a right as any one to try his hand at this notable and wonder working operation, the effect or fame of which he knew full well how to manage profitably and turn to the best account. He accordingly set about it in good earnest; and in order, as may be supposed, to give the process the most striking, sacred, and solemn appearance, and increase its effect, he had a new form, or office, composed and introduced for the purpose. [304] The project answered; and his success in this practice is said to have been very considerable. This prince would also sometimes take upon him to convert heretics; and he would even give them money to facilitate their conversion; [306] which was certainly no illadapted device, or unpromising expedient; and it is the more remarkable, as his majesty was himself so great a lover of money, and appears to have been so exceedingly close-fisted on other occasions. We may therefore be very sure that the conversion of heretics was of the highest importance in Henry’s estimation, and what lay very near to his royal heart. This monarch also, with his queen and eldest son, visited the town of Lynn, where he very probably exercised the royal touch, as scrofulous patients may be supposed to have been then, as they are now, very numerous here, all of whom, as well as the rest of the inhabitants, would not fail to give full credit to his majesty’s ability to remove the malady and restore the patients to perfect health; and, of course, would be anxious to apply to him, which he would not be likely to discourage. As to heretics, there might be then none of them here for him to try his royal hand at their conversion.
His son and high spirited successor, Henry VIII, would doubtless be careful to continue the practice of all the rites and ceremonies appertaining to the royal function, which had been handed down to him from his father: and there is every reason to believe that the operation in question would not be forgotten or omitted, were it only to be even with his neighbour and rival, Francis I, who certainly performed it, and would not be likely to be suffered or allowed to go beyond him on such an occasion. Henry therefore may be safely set down among our said royal practitioners, and even among the most able and powerful of them all. But the King’s Evil was not the only Evil in whose cure or removal he was particularly concerned: He was no less concerned in the cure or removal of the Pope’s Evil, another dreadful malady, which had long and grievously afflicted most of the good people of this country, and which was generally deemed incurable, till he took it in hand. All the world know how powerfully and effectually his royal touch operated on that occasion.—It seems he had also the reputation of being endowed with extraordinary gifts for the cure or prevention of the cramp; and we find that he distinguished himself by the consecration of cramp rings, which Stephen Gardiner says were much esteemed every where, and often sought for. [308] So very eminent was Henry among our royal doctors, and miracle mongers.
Edward VI, Henry’s amiable son and successor, is not known to have been at all an adept at this princely practice, or even to have been in the least partial to it. He probably thought so very lightly of it as entirely to omit and discard it, as he is also said to have done with respect to the consecration of cramp rings, by which his royal father so much distinguished himself. It is likely that Edward, young as he was, had imbibed some sectarian notions which might unfit him for the performance of these sublime operations. Even the royal and episcopal work of burning heretics, so much approved of and delighted in by his predecessors, and afterwards by his immediate successor, and so much called for and applauded by ecclesiastics, was to him an object of utter aversion; and if he once suffered it to be done, it was involuntary and against his own better judgement, through the importunate intreaties and urgent expostulations of his bishops, and particularly Cranmer, to whom therefore the guilt and infamy of the deed must properly or chiefly belong. [309] There is reason to believe that no such doings would have sullied or disgraced his reign had he been left to judge and act for himself. It is probable he was left so to judge and act with respect to the royal touch; so that we need not be surprised at his declining the practice.
From Mary, his bloody sister and successor a different conduct might be expected: and her conduct certainly was, almost in every thing, very different from his. Superstitious as she was, and bigoted to the last degree, it is not to be supposed that she should shrink from the performance of any rite or ceremony, however absurd, that had been in request with her popish predecessors, or devoutly practiced by them. This of the royal touch could never escape her attention: nay it is expressly said that the office was indeed fairly written out for her use; [that very office probably, which has been above inserted;] so that there can be no question of her touching for the Evil, as devoutly, and as successfully perhaps, as any of the rest. [310a]
As to Elizabeth, heretic as she was, her legitimacy questioned, and her title litigated, she touched for the Evil with a success acknowledged even by the papists themselves, who are said to ascribe it to the sign of the cross. [310b] A case is mentioned by Carte of a Roman Catholic, who, being put into prison, perhaps for recusancy, and terribly afflicted with the Evil, was, after he had been there a tedious time, at a vast expence to physicians without the least relief, touched by this queen, and perfectly cured: which gave him occasion to say, he was now convinced by undoubted experience, that the pope’s excommunication of her signified nothing, since she still continued blessed with so miraculous a quality. [310c]—It was well for the poor fellow that he was not a puritan, or he might have gone long enough without his cure, as her majesty is known to have been inexorably pitiless and spiteful against that class of her subjects.
Of James I, with his strong faith in ghosts and witches, and lofty notions of indefeasible right, royal prerogative and king-craft, it was not to be supposed that he, of all men, would think meanly or lightly of this royal and religious operation. It accordingly appears that he very readily and warmly engaged in it, and actually became a most dexterous and eminent practitioner—to the no small satisfaction and comfort, as we may suppose, of his liege subjects, as well as advancement of his own fame, or at least, the gratification of his vanity, of which it is well known he possessed no common or scanty portion. Nothing could delight him more than the idea that he could work miracles: his courtiers called him Solomon; but that idea was calculated to make him think himself as still greater than even Solomon. We are not informed how many patients underwent or felt his royal touch; but there is every reason to suppose and believe that the number must have been very considerable.
His unfortunate son and successor Charles I. was no less distinguished in this same way than his royal father had been. Great numbers are said to have been by him both touched and cured; of whom not a few were little children, which has been urged as a proof that it could not be ascribed to the effect or strength of imagination. Carte observes, that Dr. Heylyn, an eye witness of such cures, says, “I have seen some children brought before the King by the hanging sleeves, some hanging at their mother’s breasts, and others in the arms of their nurses, all cured, without the help of a serviceable imagination.” [312a] Both Heylyn and Carte were full of faith in these miracles. If they were right, the decapitation of Charles must have been a great loss to the nation, and especially to those who were afflicted with the Evil. For twelve years or more, after that event, not one of these miracles appears to have been wrought in this country.
As to Oliver Cromwell, it does not appear that he ever tried his hand at this wonder-working operation; conscious, it may be supposed, that it did not belong to his province, or to the protectoral office and dignity, with which he was invested. What he would have done, had he accepted or assumed the regal title, cannot be said or known with absolute certainty: though the probability seems to bear against his even then becoming a practitioner, as it would hardly have met the approbation of his best friends, or accorded with the ideas of his most trusty and powerful coadjutors, or even with his own.