Tom Fasano

To truly comprehend the origins of this notorious prank, we must first acquaint ourselves with the figure of John Partridge. In the early 1700s, almanacs reigned supreme as the most popular form of literature, overflowing with predictions for the upcoming year. Partridge was an astrologer who frequently published his own almanacs, though many of his predictions proved to be woefully inaccurate. Notably, in 1708, Partridge predicted that a fever would sweep through London in early April.

Shortly after Partridge’s prediction was published, Jonathan Swift, writing under the pseudonym of Isaac Bickerstaff, released his own almanac. In it, Bickerstaff made the audacious claim that on March 29th, precisely at 11pm, Partridge would succumb to “a raging fever.” This proclamation provoked both shock and amusement among Londoners. Partridge himself denounced Bickerstaff as a fraud, insisting that his prediction would prove to be false: “His whole Design was nothing but Deceit. The End of March will plainly show the Cheat.”

All of London eagerly awaited the fateful day, wondering whether Bickerstaff’s prediction would come true. When March 29th arrived, Bickerstaff released an elegantly printed elegy in a black frame, announcing that Partridge had indeed died. The elegy went on to describe Partridge as a “cobbler, Starmonger and Quack.” According to Bickerstaff, he had even visited Partridge on his deathbed, where the latter had confessed to being a fraud who wrote predictions only to support his wife.

A pamphlet called The Accomplishment of the First of Mr. Bickerstaff’s Predictions began to circulate around London, claiming that Partridge had indeed died on March 29th, but a few hours earlier than the predicted time of 11pm. The pamphlet stated that Partridge had died at 7:05pm instead. Word of this quickly spread, and by April 1st, most people in London believed that Partridge had truly passed away as Bickerstaff had predicted.

However, Partridge was very much alive on April 1st, 1708. He was awoken that morning by a sexton who asked if there were any orders for his funeral sermon. Later, as Partridge walked down the street, people stared at him in confusion, with some even mistaking him for a deceased relative. Furious at this turn of events, Partridge printed his own pamphlet insisting that he was alive and that Bickerstaff was the real fraud. Bickerstaff retaliated by claiming that Partridge was obviously dead, as no living man could have penned the rubbish that appeared in his last almanac. Bickerstaff even claimed that Partridge’s own wife had admitted that her husband had “neither life nor soul.”

Despite Partridge’s insistence that he was still alive, the joke persisted well beyond April Fool’s Day. In fact, contemporary writers continued to publish stories about Partridge’s death for years to come. While Partridge did survive to experience Swift’s satire, he eventually stopped publishing his almanacs and ultimately passed away in 1714.