The story of Thomas Parr begins with a man who claimed to have lived to the age of 152. For a long time, he remained relatively healthy for someone so advanced in years. However, a visit to the dirty and polluted city of London in 1635 cut his long life short. Historians today look back at the early modern claims surrounding this supercentarian and the fraudulent business that later used his name to sell medicine in the 19th century.
In the autumn of 1635, a man arrived in London. This was not unusual, as London was a growing city with people arriving every day. But Thomas Parr was no ordinary traveler. He had recently celebrated his 152nd birthday. According to a verse biography written by the poet John Taylor in 1635, Parr grew up in the village of Winnington in Shropshire. Born in 1483, he was the son of a tenant farmer. He worked as a servant until he inherited his father's farm in his mid-thirties. Parr was a slow developer in his personal life. He married for the first time at age 80 and a second time at age 122. He also committed a public crime at 105 when he fell into adultery, a fault that rich, poor, old, and young men often made.
Parr was a hard worker well into his second century, but by 1635 he showed signs of aging. He could walk only with support, though he still liked to laugh and speak with energy. He was blind, very wrinkled, and had only one tooth left. He might have died in obscurity in the countryside if the Earl of Arundel had not visited his estates that summer. Thomas Howard, the earl, was an enthusiast for old things. When he heard of a 152-year-old man, he decided this marvel must be taken to London. A litter was provided, and crowds gathered to see the remarkable being. Upon arrival in the capital, Parr stayed at the earl's house on the Strand. He was presented to King Charles I and Queen Henrietta Maria at Greenwich. His stay ended abruptly in mid-November when he fell ill and died. He was buried in Westminster Abbey under a simple stone noting that he had witnessed the reigns of ten monarchs.
From a modern perspective, our first reaction is doubt. Some of Parr's contemporaries shared this skepticism. The historian Thomas Fuller once complained that many old men set the clock of their age too fast after turning seventy. However, most people accepted Parr's story. They believed it just as they believed similar claims for Katherine Fitzgerald, the countess of Desmond, and Henry Jenkins, a Yorkshire fisherman. Widespread belief in Biblical stories of extreme longevity helped make tales like Parr's seem plausible. These stories were taken as proof that humans could live for centuries, even if no one had done so since the Great Flood.
This belief was helped by the lack of records for ordinary lives. Besides literary accounts, the only surviving record of Parr is a 1588 deed granting him and his wife a lifetime lease on their land. Taylor claimed this document was obtained through trickery because Parr feared his lease would end due to his blindness. The story goes that Parr had his wife place a pin on the floor. When the landlord arrived, Parr immediately spotted it, leaving the landlord amazed that the old man had regained his sight.
Consequently, people did not try to prove his birth date. Instead, they asked why he lived so long and why he died so suddenly. The answers reflected a belief in the "six non-naturals": air, food, exercise, sleep, excretion, and emotions. Both John Taylor and the royal physician William Harvey said Parr's longevity came from his clean surroundings and simple country life. He worked hard, ate brown bread, unripened cheese, and onions, avoided strong alcohol, and slept well.
Harvey's autopsy report explained that Parr's visit to London forced a sudden change in his lifestyle. His usual food was replaced by a rich, varied diet and strong drink. This combination ruined his body. Contemporary medical theory suggested this diet was unhealthy for anyone. By the 17th century, many believed the peasant diet of vegetables and dairy was healthier than the meats and wines favored by the wealthy. Fine foods were especially unsuitable for a poor man like Parr, whose stomach was designed for coarser food.
As an "enfeebled old man" used to the clean air of Shropshire, Parr was also vulnerable to London's pollution. Harvey explained the city was full of filth from men, animals, and canals. The constant burning of coal produced heavy, unhealthy air. The diarist John Evelyn was certain Parr's death was caused by the air, which "plainly wither'd him." The story of the Old, Old, Very Old Man was seen as a cautionary tale about the dangers of modern life.
The end of Parr's life marked the beginning of his afterlife. His story evolved over four centuries. Taylor's biography remained popular in the 18th century. Images of him were common, sometimes showing a large family, though none of his children survived infancy. Some 18th-century centenarians were even identified as his descendants. In the 1790s, a religious tract used his story for moral education. Even in early Victorian England, he was famous enough to be mentioned in Charles Dickens's novels.
In 1841, Parr's story was revived by Herbert Ingram, a newsagent from Nottingham. Ingram first worked for a patent medicine company but then decided to create his own remedy. He sold his product as Parr's Life Pills, claiming they could cure any illness and promote longevity. Patent medicines were big business in Victorian England, and there were few regulations. Parr's Life Pills stood out because of a story Ingram created about the pills' origins. This story appeared in a pamphlet called The Extraordinary Life and Times of Thomas Parr.
The pamphlet claimed Parr found the recipe after being cured of serious illnesses. It said he consulted a witch, whose remedies failed, but then used his knowledge of herbs to create a successful cure. Ingram claimed Parr kept the recipe secret to avoid being called a wizard. In his will, he gave the recipe to his "second great grandson," proving that the medicine, combined with a moderate life, could secure long life. The pamphlet also claimed the medicine helped another centenarian, Henry Jenkins, return to work as a fisherman at age 169.
This pamphlet was part of a massive campaign. Advertisements appeared in newspapers across the UK and globally. Testimonials from satisfied customers were included. The company sold tens of thousands of boxes of pills every week. Ingram made so much money that he moved to London, founded the Illustrated London News, and became a Member of Parliament. He eventually distanced himself from the pill business, feeling that such a disreputable industry would hurt his respectability.
Not everyone was convinced by the pills. Magazines like Punch satirized the product, suggesting throwing millions of boxes into the sea. Frederick Engels wrote that patent medicines were a threat to the working class. He argued that while the pills rarely contained harmful substances, taking them often weakened the body. Later, The Spectator noted that ignorant people relied on these medicines too much and delayed getting real medical help. Critics called the business a vulgar fraud. The Medical Circular investigated the pills in 1853, concluding they were a tissue of absurdities sold to the gullible.
Doubts were growing in an age that valued science. In 1873, William J. Thoms wrote a book on longevity. He argued for a rigorous approach and debunked many supercentenarian claims. He accepted Parr was very old, perhaps over 100, but found it impossible to prove the basic facts of his life. He also pointed out that despite stories of long-lived descendants, Parr died without children. Based on this analysis, the story was seen as a monstrous fable. As the story faded, so did the popularity of the pills.
More than a century after production stopped, the desire for long life remains strong. Modern charlatans still promote outlandish ways to extend life. The story of Parr's Life Pills serves as a warning. As one anonymous observer noted in the 19th century: "I never heard that Old Parr was such an idiot as to swallow pills to preserve his health; and if anyone of the present generation who does swallow such stuff should live to be half the age of Old Parr, it will be a greater miracle than anything in Parr."