Odd this day
Today is the 354th anniversary of the burial of Henry Jenkins, who found fame not through political intrigue, financial success or military might, for he was “of humble birth”, but by living until he was 169 years old. This is, of course, absolutely true.
We know this because Bulmer’s History and Directory of North Yorkshire (1890) says:
He was a witness in a right-of-way trial, at York Assizes, in 1655, when he declared most positively that the said road had been a public one to his knowledge 120 years.
Handy, if you want to assert a right of way, I would have thought, if you can bring forth a witness of unfeasible age who can testify to the rightness of your cause. And I’m not the only one to doubt this…
The judge was sceptical of his great age and memory, capable of such an extensive retrospect, but the venerable old man maintained his assertion, and added, in further proof of his evidence, that he was then butler to Lord Conyers, of Hornby Castle, and that his name might be found in an old register of the menial servants of that nobleman. On the same trial were four men engaged as witnesses for the opposite side, each of whom was about a hundred years of age, and, in answer to the judge, positively declared that Jenkins had been “an old man” as long as they could remember.
So, that’s definitive, then. Well, I suppose them being on the opposite side counts for something. But they weren’t the only ones who were convinced.
Dr. Lyttleton, Bishop of Carlisle, communicated to the Antiquarian Society, on the 11th December, 1766, a paper copied from an old household book of Sir Richard Graham, Bart., of Norton Conyers, in which was a transcript of a letter written by Miss Anne Savile, without date, but apparently written in 1661 or 1662. This lady was sister of Mrs. Wastell, of Bolton, and in the letter she says: when she first went to live at Bolton, Jenkins was said to be then about 150 years old.
Oh, well — there we are then. If an 18th century bishop can write to some antiquarians about a paper copied out of a book which was a transcript of a letter “apparently” written over a century earlier, I don’t see that we can dispute this any further.
Miss Savile herself had reservations at least.
That was nice of her: “Listen up, you old fuck. You could drop dead any minute, so don’t piss me about or God will be well angry”.
Anyway, he stuck to his story.
I deſired him to tell me very truly how Old he was, and he pauſed a little, and then ſaid, that to the beſt of his Remembrance he was about One hundred ſixty two or three; and I asked him what Kings he remembred, he ſaid Henry VIII; I asked what Publick thing he could longest remember, he ſaid Flowden-field; I asked whether the King was there, he ſaid no, he was in France, and the Earl of Surry was General
He had, allegedly, been born in February 1501, and was 12 when the battle of Flodden Field was fought. He was
ſent to Northallerton [with] a Horſe Load of Arrows, but they ſent a bigger Boy from thence to the Army with them
…and
theDiſſolution of the Monaſteries he ſaid he well remembred,
Anne Savile’s idea of fact checking this story was to “look up in an Old Chronicle that was in the Houſe” the date of Flodden Field and conclude that if it was true he was then 162–3. Jenkins had, conveniently, been
born in another Pariſh, and before any Regiſter were in Churches, as it is ſaid
To be fair to T Bulmer & Co, publishers of the History and Directory of North Yorkshire, this extraordinary drivel had appeared before — and in a learned journal. The letter appeared first (publicly, at least) in Philosophical Transactions in 1696, supplied to them by Tancred Robinson, a Fellow of the “College of Physitians.”
He commented on the letter, adding that he’d heard Jenkins
frequently ſwum in the Rivers after he was paſt the Age of One hundred Years [and] was the oldest Man born upon the Ruines of this Poſtdiluvian World.
Yes, obviously this is nonsense, and all concerned are guilty of printing the legend — not least the person given the task of carving his gravestone, who might have planned his chiselling better…
There’s also a marble plaque inside St Mary’s Church at Bolton-on-Swale
…put up in the same year as the tomb in the churchyard, and with an inscription written by Dr Thomas Chapman, Master of Magdalene College, Cambridge. Of this inscription, 1899 work Curious Epitaphs says:
This inscription is a proof that learned men, and masters of colleges, are not always exempt from the infirmity of writing nonsense.
Finally, someone is speaking rationally of this business. Well, until you read the rest of the paragraph:
Ah, yes. The only thing wrong with it is that marble shouldn’t be wasted on the Lower Orders.
One question which may arise for you over this is that the inscription says he was buried on 6 December. Most accounts say “6 (or 9)”, and the letter in Philosophical Transactions says he died on 8th. If he was buried on 6th, even with his constitution, that would hardly be surprising. For the sake of argument, I’ve gone with 9th for the date of his burial. (Also, I had other nonsense to publish on 6th.)
Yes, basically everything about this is absolute twaddle. I did discover one entertaining thing while researching it, though. According to 1829 periodical The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction (Volume 14, №394, published on 17 October, fact fans), if Henry’s story is remotely factual, and his belief system had complied with the statute of his times, he would have changed religion seven times during his lifespan.
Now that bit of analysis is what I call the work of a proper historian.
